Wicked Little Sins (5 page)

Ethan rolled over in his bed. He’d been up all night thinking about his mother. Whenever he’d asked his dad how it happened, his father had found a way to avoid the subject. Ethan wasn’t an idiot. He could read the newspaper and he could ask questions about the family. Something wasn’t right, and he was determined to figure it out.

              He’d read an article written about the man accused of murdering his mother. He just wanted someone to talk to him about it. Did his mother know her killer? Had he been one of her patients? Being a psychologist, she was no stranger to dealing with some crazies. Ethan was overly aggravated by his dad’s lack of willingness to share what he might know.

              He rolled over in bed, hearing a tapping noise. Rolling his eyes in disgust, he knew the only people in the house who’d be having sex was Everly and Vinnie. Grabbing his pillow he covered his ears, going to sleep, tomorrow was going to be interesting.

Everly sat up in bed, a sense of panic washing over her. She scrambled for her phone.

              “Six-thirty,” she said with a sigh, thinking she was late for her mother’s funeral. She saw Vinnie wasn’t in bed, but she wasn’t concerned enough about his whereabouts to go look for him. She knew Charley would probably be in charge of most of the arrangements, but she wanted to help with making the phone calls and getting things in order. That gave her a few more hours to rest before she had to get up.

              Everly began to wonder where Vinnie had gone. She was still mad at him for acting like a pig, but she
did
care about him. She wasn’t a total hateful bitch and she had compassion for those she loved and cared about. Decision made, she slipped quietly out of bed and made her way toward the bedroom door.

Vinnie stroked Quinn’s hair, admiring her smile. How quickly she lay in his arms. She didn’t act like she was too good for him; in fact, she acted like there was no place she’d rather be. He shook his head, not believing those thoughts had even crossed his mind.
Damn liquor
, he thought.

              “I think the sun is coming up,” he warned her. She kept her eyes shut, and began stroking his arm.

              “They won’t be up for another hour or so, just a little longer,” she said, hushing him.

              Vinnie sighed, doing his best at pretending he wanted to be there. He’d gotten what he wanted and he was satisfied. Now he just wanted to take his drunken ass to bed and get some sleep and try to find a way to overlook the fact he’d boned Everly’s kid sister. He’d have never done it if Everly hadn’t given him the cold shoulder. Everly was enough for him. She knew how to get the job done. There had never been any reason to look for someone else. He felt a small pang of remorse as he pushed Quinn off of him. The washer rattled against his back as he stood up, completely naked. Quinn admired him from the floor, not in a hurry to dress herself. He picked her clothes up first, tossing them at her.

              “You’re
so
rude,” she said under her breath, as she began to get dressed.

              “There is a difference between rude and cautious,” he said.

              “Right,” she said with a sigh. Judging by Vinnie’s looks, he acted less than impressed with her sexual prowess. She’d felt used, but it didn’t matter she told herself as she unlatched the laundry room door. She’d give him the silent treatment, proving he had no effect on her at all.

              “Quinn,” Vinnie called out, causing her to turn in his direction.

              “A secret?” he asked, confusing her.

              “What are you talking about, Vinnie?”

              “What went on, it’s between us right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

              She stifled the rising anger towards him. Who the hell did he think he was?

              “Of course,” she said, stalking out of the laundry room. No matter how good a man was in bed he wasn’t worth raving over. And she would never be that pathetic.

              She made it to the hallway, just in time to meet up with Everly.

              “What are you doing up so late?” Everly snarked. Quinn crossed her arms, gave a shrug, and headed up the stairs. She didn’t mean to treat Everly like crap. She just happened to be there. It would serve Vinnie right if he was caught with his pants down—literally. She turned on the bedroom light as she opened the door and proceeded to let out a loud shriek.

              “Hey babe,” Jordan said, lying on her bed, his duffel bag on the floor.

              She turned fast to hide her alarm, shutting her bedroom door.

              “Hey there,” she said, feeling a tad ill. He had sworn he would keep his word and leave her be, not do what he always did and be a good guy. He always wanted to save her, make her feel better. He always wanted to be her knight in shining armor. And that made it very hard to dislike him. He only grew on her more and more each time.

              “Come here, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, babe,” he said, tapping the bed, beaming his delectable smile at her.

              She gave in, climbing into bed with him. He wrapped his arms around her, giving her a long slow kiss. His fingers trailed down her face like always, he was the most amazing kisser she’d ever met. Secretly, she was very happy to see him. He playfully slapped her on the backside, pulling her down on top of him.  Quinn cautiously went along with it.

              Jordan was beyond thrilled she hadn’t freaked out he was there. He knew if he told her he changed his mind he never would have gottenthere. There was no place he would rather be. He wasn’t going to let her go through such a hard time all on her own. He knew how she felt about her family. She was closer to her LA friend
s
tha
n
them. And as tough as she tried to appear on the outside, he knew her all too well. He knew she needed someone to show they were focusing on her. Quinn acted like a badass, but deep down she was a sweet, sensitive girl who wanted approval from everyone she cared about.

Down the hall, Charley blindly felt around on her nightstand, locating her wrist watch to check the time. She was up before her alarm, giving her plenty of time to cook breakfast for everyone before she made the trip to the florist for the funeral flowers.

              Her mother loved flowers, with a passion she’d never seen before. She never understood why her mother hadn’t pursued a career in botany rather than psychology.

              While she pulled her hair back in a neat ponytail and got dressed, she decided she’d go for the flowers before making breakfast. Judging by last night’s drinking, no one was going to be up for a while. She’d be able to go for flowers and be back before they even know she was gone.

              She headed out the door, bounding down the stairs to her dad’s truck. She knew he wouldn’t mind if she took it for a little while, she thought, as she tried to put the key in the lock to unlock the door. The keys slipped from her grasp and dropped to the ground by her feet. It never ceased to amaze her the bad luck she had with locks.

              Slipping his own keys out of his pocket, he watched closely at the familiar blonde bending over to retrieve something. His mind raced trying to figure out where he’d seen her before.

              “Well, I’ll be damned. The girl from the airport,” he said to himself as the old truck rumbled past him. What a small world! She lived in the same neighborhood that his friends did.

              Jumping in his car in a hurry to keep up, he pulled out of his driveway, taking it easy behind her.

              A few minutes later she stopped at the curb in front of a flower shop, heading for the shop. He also stopped on the street, hopped out of the car, and began feeding change into a parking meter. He didn’t want to appear to be a stalker, but thought he’d just walk into the shop as if he were there to buy flowers.

              Charley sniffed at some lilacs, shaking her head in protest, they were not up to standard for her mother. She moved on to the next assortment--some beautiful red roses, morbid yet romantic. That’s not what she was after at all. She wondered what her mom would have picked if she were with her something light, delicate, and unique. Charley wasn’t fond of flowers. She fancied leafy vines and willowy trees.

              “Tulips are always nice,” he said.

              Charley looked up, surprised and pleased to see who that voice belonged to. She smiled, reaching her hand over the flowers to shake his hand.

              “Charley,” she said introducing herself. He was required to tell her his name now she thought.

              “Adrian,” he said, taking her hand firmly into his and shaking it. Charley could tell a lot from a handshake, and his was one of self-assurance and character.

              “Now, that’s a name you don’t often hear,” she said, impressed. She was intrigued by the sheepish grin that crossed his face.

              “I always found it somewhat unappealing, doesn’t feel all that masculine. So, tell me why you’re in a flower shop buying flowers for yourself,” he said.

              Charley laughed out loud at his assumption.

              Adrian watched her carefully as she continued laughing at him. He started to feel a bit foolish for asking such a thing. Who was he kidding? He didn’t think she’d
ever
have to buy flowers for herself. He’d buy flowers for her every day given the opportunity. Still feeling foolish, he was ready to cut and run when her laughter was replaced with a serious look, near tears.

              “They’re for my mother’s funeral,” she spit out. It was the first time she’d said it out loud.

              “I’m sorry,” Adrian immediately said. She felt his words were genuine and was pretty sure he felt like a huge ass right now. What he didn’t realize, though, is he’d made her feel something other than sadness, even if it was for just a few seconds.

              He nervously pulled at the flowers in front of him, looking upset. Charley tried to think of something to say to ease the awkwardness she knew he must be feeling.

              “Did you have a pleasant trip?” she asked.

              Adrian couldn’t believe she hadn’t stormed away from him and out of the flower shop. He hadn’t meant to be unkind, he didn’t know. He was impressed that she even thought to ask about his flight. 

              “Yes, the trip was decent, thanks for asking.” He smiled.

              “Well good, I’m glad,” she said, going back to the flowers.

              “I don’t know what to say. I feel like a total moron. Do you have time to go for coffee? If that is totally off base you can slap me,” he said, crossing his fingers for her to see. She lit up with a big smile, nodding her head yes. He sighed, relieved that he hadn’t totally blown it.

Ethan walked the woods by his house, smoking a cigarette as he made his way. He needed air. That house only overwhelmed him, filling his lungs with stifling dread. He had to figure out what the hell was going on, his dad was acting very odd.

              Sunlight poured through the trees, filling everything up with light, leaves scampered at his feet like tiny creatures. He practiced blowing rings of smoke, lost in thought. He was nothing but consumed by his mother and her death anymore.

              They couldn’t just let the loss of her be the end of things. Someone purposely took her life and no one wanted to talk about it. He had called his mom’s brother, Uncle Emmet. They had always been close, and even he wouldn’t say much about it. He told Ethan to let it be and concentrate on laying her to rest.

              As he came out of the woods, he saw the next-door neighbors out on their porch. They were busily carrying in groceries. Ethan hurried along, making his way to them. They had known him since he was a little kid playing baseball with their now grown son. If he remembered correctly, he’d gone off to college in Arizona or something.

              “Morning,” he said loudly.

              Debbie Johnson stopped what she was doing, looking down at Ethan.

              “Hey there, Ethan, how’s your family?” she asked courteously. In all the years she had known the Harpers she always preferred the children to their parents.

              “Oh, as good as they can be, I guess,” he said. He wasn’t sure how to go about asking anything.

              Debbie studied Ethan’s expression; he looked bothered by something.

              “We were just finishing up some errands. We’ll be at the funeral. Sandy was a lovely lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, drifting off in reflection.

              “Thanks, can I ask you guys a question?” he asked.

              Debbie’s husband, Claude, immediately stopped and set the groceries down, waiting for Ethan to say whatever it was he was dying to spit out.

              “I’ve been in college, so I didn’t get home a lot. But did you notice anything odd around here before it happened?” he asked.

              His heart pounded in his chest as these people stared at him as if he were a member of a freak show. This wasn’t the response he’d expected. Feeling horribly nervous, he fished his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, lighting one up.

              Being the gossip she was, Debbie was more than willing to speak her mind on Sandy and her thoughts about Sandy’s murder. Claude was constantly scolding her for spying on her neighbors. Sometimes when Debbie weeded her garden, she’d peer through the slats of the fence to see what Sandy was doing in her own garden. Sandy was pleasant enough; just not overly friendly. If you weren’t her friend, she didn’t have a lot to say to you. Debbie tried her best to make conversation on many occasions. She had learned over the years that Ned and Sandy had their occasional argument. She also knew that once a week they’d go to Scanolli’s, an Italian restaurant in town, and return home with a doggie bag.

              “I didn’t see her coming and going all that often anymore the last couple weeks before she died. I almost asked your father if she went to see the children. And right before I did, I seen her heading out one morning, she looked normal, but she was in a rush,” Debbie said, with a nod, describing the day Sandy nearly plowed her down with her black Mercedes.

              “I really wish I knew about this Sam character they talk about in the paper,” Ethan remarked, looking at his house, afraid his dad would hear.

              “I can tell you he’s lived here his whole life, and I heard he was a patient of hers. Older man, probably your parents’ age. Some people in the neighborhood know him. And he has a couple kids. Three of them.” She rattled on. It was apparent to Ethan she was doing her best to find out all she could about his mom. How much was true, that was a bigger question.

              “Well, thank you, Debbie. See you in a couple hours,” he said, turning to leave.

              “Hey, Ethan,” Claude said, jogging down the steps to catch up with him. He felt sorry for the kid. He had been waiting for Debbie to shut her fat trap so he could get a word in edgewise. This never happened for him, so he decided to get him alone.

              “I heard from a couple neighbors that Sam wasn’t that unusual a man. He held the same job for twenty years. He’s a married man, with three great kids,” Claude said.

              If this Sam guy was such a great man, then why would he kill his mother?

              “Well, thanks, but that doesn’t seem to fit the bill of a killer to me,” Ethan said.

              “No, but from what I hear, that little girlfriend of yours had quite the spiteful words to say about him,” Claude said, pleased with his bit of information.

              Ethan raised his eyebrows, thinking about Angelina. He hadn’t talked to her in a while. Why would she have anything bad to say about this Sam character? He thanked Claude, heading into the house to get ready for the service.