Authors: Catherine Mulvany
Mallory frowned.
“
A bad habit.
”
“
Exactly, because you and Evan were wrong for each other. But Lindsey
’
s in love with him and he
’
s in love with her. You need to let go.
”
Mallory sighed.
“
Yes, Mother.
”
Now go home. You
’
ve done the interrogation and delivered your lecture du jour
.
April Scott smiled.
“
I wouldn
’
t interfere if I weren
’
t worried about you, baby. You wasted eleven years on Evan and now you
’
re hung up on another man who
’
s totally wrong for you.
”
“
I
’
m not hung up on Brody! Where did you get that idea?
”
And what makes you think he
’
s so wrong for me?
“
Well, gee, where did I get that idea?
”
Her mother stroked her chin and stared off into space.
“
Maybe it was when you announced your date for the wedding was the studmuffin of the universe.
”
Mallory cringed. Oh, yeah. She had said something of the kind, but only because Lindsey had been rubbing salt in her wounds for months, going on and on ad nauseam about the wedding.
April tugged at her lip.
“
Or maybe it was the fact you skipped out on dinner with Uncle Toby and Aunt Chloe only to end up staying out all night doing God knows what.
”
“
I explained that.
”
“
Uh-huh. Or tried to.
”
Her mother
’
s look said she wasn
’
t buying it.
“
Or maybe it was last night
’
s drunken orgy.
”
“
Drunken orgy? How does a few wine coolers and an R-rated video translate to a drunken orgy? I just
—”
“
Just?
”
“
Not that it
’
s any of your business, but I spent the evening with Kyle Brewster.
”
Her mother looked skeptical.
“
Kyle? The one who went to school with this outlaw you
’
re sleeping with?
”
“
Outlaw?
”
Mallory made a face.
“
Where do you get this stuff? Brody
’
s a cop, Mother. And for your information, we
’
re not sleeping together. Yet.
”
April made a strangled sound.
“
What do you mean
‘
yet
’
?
”
she demanded as the doorbell rang.
“
Just a minute.
”
Grateful for the reprieve, Mallory practically ran to the door. She peered through the peephole only to find Brody peering back. Distorted by the lens, he grinned at her, revealing huge teeth in an even huger face. His top-heavy body tapered down to a pair of tiny, boot-clad feet.
The doorbell rang again.
Talk about lousy timing.
“
Aren
’
t you going to answer it?
”
her mother asked.
Like I have a choice
. Mallory opened the door.
Brody
’
s proportions reverted to normal, if size-twelve feet could be considered normal.
“
Well, hi.
”
“
Hi.
”
Despite her weakened physical state
—
or perhaps because of it
—
her heart fluttered madly. She really hadn
’
t expected to see him again before the rehearsal dinner on Friday. After the way she
’
d acted Monday night, she wouldn
’
t have been surprised if he
’
d called off the charade altogether.
“
Aren
’
t you going to ask me in?
”
Funny. He looked even more dangerous when he smiled. Her mother was going to flip out for sure when she saw that hair.
Sighing, she pulled the door wide.
“
Sure. Come in.
”
“
Have you seen an Indian-head penny? An 1862 Indian-head penny? I think maybe I lost it in the shuffle the other night.
”
“
What shuffle?
”
Her mother didn
’
t miss a thing.
Mallory collapsed in the armchair and waved Brody to the couch. She pulled her legs up in a semifetal position and decided she was in dire need of an aspirin. Or two. Although, three might do the trick.
Brody addressed her mother.
“
I tried to turn a goodnight kiss into something more and Mallory knocked me for a Fruit Loop.
”
“
Good grief!
”
April plucked at the neck of her blouse as if she were choking.
Brody grinned.
“
You gotta admire her spunk. Unfortunately, I lost my lucky penny in the confusion.
”
“
Why did you really drop by?
”
Mallory asked after her mother had left.
“
What makes you think I didn
’
t lose my lucky penny? As hard as you dumped me, I could have.
”
“
Did you?
”
He pulled the coin from his pocket, flipped it into the air, then caught it.
“
No, but I didn
’
t want to mention the real reason for my visit in front of your mother. It
’
s police business. Unofficial.
”
“
What does that mean? How can police business be unofficial?
”
“
Well, the Yano break-in isn
’
t my case, so technically, it
’
s none of my business. But I
’
d like to take an informal look around the house and yard, just to satisfy my own curiosity. Something about that night
’
s been bugging me, but I haven
’
t been able to put my finger on what. I thought maybe if I returned to the scene of the crime, it might jog my memory. You still have the keys?
”
“
Yes.
”
“
You don
’
t sound too thrilled.
”
“
What
’
s the point? You said it yourself. It
’
s not even your case.
”
Brody leaned across the trunk to shove her glasses up her nose.
“
What
’
s it gonna hurt?
”
What
’
s it gonna hurt?
Brody had said. Ha! File that one under
famous last words
. They
’
d been inside the house for all of five minutes and she
’
d already broken two of her fake nails. Mr. Edouard was going to have a major hissy fit.
“
Picture the room as it looked before the break-in. Then tell me what
’
s different now. Not just what
’
s missing, but what
’
s changed too.
”
Mallory obediently closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them and recited,
“
Silver
’
s missing from the sideboard. That
’
s it. There may be other stuff missing from drawers. I don
’
t know what was in them to start with.
”
“
Okay. Good.
”
But he didn
’
t say it with conviction. He frowned off into space, tapping his fingertips on the edge of the table.
“
They hit houses only when the owners are out of town. So how do they know who
’
s out of town when?
”
“
Some postal worker is tipping them off,
”
Mallory suggested.
Brody shook his head.
“
Thought of that, but they all checked out fine.
”
“
Someone from the
Gazette
circulation desk?
”
“
No, we checked that too. We checked utilities. We checked lawn-care service providers. We checked cleaning ladies. We even checked travel agencies. And we came up empty. Any more suggestions?
”
“
What about the Dairy-Best man?
”
“
Who?
”
“
The Dairy-Best man. You know. Big yellow trucks. They deliver milk, ice cream, stuff like that. Nobody
’
s going to want milk delivered when they
’
re not home to drink it.
”
“
The Yanos are Dairy-Best customers? You
’
re sure of that?
”
“
Positive. Alex, Mrs. Yano, is addicted to their Fudgie-Pudgies. Big, thick chocolate ice-cream sandwiches,
”
she explained in response to Brody
’
s puzzled look.
“
She has a standing order, a box a week.
”
Brody looked thoughtful.
“
You just might be onto something.
”
She chewed one of her ragged fingernails.
“
Are you about done here?
”
“
Almost.
”
“
Then I
’
ll wait outside,
”
she said.
As Brody made his way upstairs Mallory slipped out the French doors. She sat on the steps of the back deck, idly digging at the shredded bark of the planting bed with the heel of one running shoe. Sunlight and peace soothed her as Brody
’
s projected few minutes stretched to half an hour. Her muscles relaxed. Her headache eased. She was almost asleep when she heard the sound of his approaching footsteps. Lifting her leaden eyelids, she glanced up with a yawn.
“
Find anything?
”
“
Nope.
”
He dropped down beside her.
“
Didn
’
t really expect to. The team does a good job on crime scenes. I knew they probably hadn
’
t missed anything, but
”—
he shrugged
—“
you never know. Wait a minute. What
’
s this?
”
He plucked a key from the base of a big chunk of petrified wood where Mallory had disturbed the shredded-bark ground cover.
“
An extra key for the back door?
”
“
Damned stupid place to leave it. Almost as bad as under a flowerpot.
”
Mallory cringed.
“
Practically the first place the bad guys look after they check under the mat and over the door.
”
He slipped the key back where he
’
d found it, hiding it with a layer of bark.
“
I guess our unofficial police search wasn
’
t a complete bust, though. You have a new lead to check out. Dairy-Best.
”
“
Thanks to you,
”
he said, lifting one of her hands in his.
She shivered even though the sunshine was warm on her back.
“
You don
’
t have to be frightened of me, Mallory. I
’
m not going to hurt you.
”