Stephen grinned.
“
I
’
m hoping to do that today. I
’
m on vacation from work and this weather
…”
Why the hell was he babbling this way in front of her? He had to get a grip on and stop sounding like an idiot!
“
In February.
”
Sunny stood behind the center island, leaning on it.
“
I grew up in the Midwest, and I still can
’
t get over February being like this. Even if it
’
s only for a day or two between storms. And to be so lucky as to have a beach a few minutes away, as if it
’
s all set up for whenever we need it!
”
She smiled again, then sipped her coffee.
“
Meantime, tell us what brought you here.
”
How to say it without involving Penny? He
’
d meant to think this through in advance and would have, if Penny weren
’
t so damned irrational.
“
About two months ago, Penny found a heart-shaped charm, a pendant
—
a thing you
’
d wear on a chain in a field, near where the police found those skeletons. Did you read about them?
”
He waited until both of them nodded.
“
Anyway, it wasn
’
t all that special, but she liked it.
”
He remembered that he had it with him. Where was his brain?
“
Wait
—
here it is.
”
He pulled it from his pocket and put it on the table.
Talkman looked at it, then at Stephen without saying anything. He didn
’
t seem impressed or overly interested, but then Stephen hadn
’
t reached the point yet.
“
Her lavaliere,
”
Sunny said.
“
She wore it here, talked about it.
”
She nodded.
“
I just told a detective about it. Well, we talked more about the person who I suspect
gave
it to her than about it.
”
She smiled knowingly at Stephen, twinkling
—
the laugh she was controlling showing in her eyes.
She
’
d been talking about him? She
’
d thought the heart had been a gift from him?
“
The police were here?
”
Talkman asked.
She shook her head, and her hair bounced in the light.
“
A private investigator trying to find Penny.
”
She looked at Stephen with what she probably thought was a stern expression, but it was charming.
“
You obviously know where she is if you have the necklace, so you get her back home, young man. Her mother
’
s worried sick.
”
Stephen nodded, but he wanted to get away from the lecture that seemed to be readying itself and back to the topic.
Talkman lifted the charm, turned it over, then shrugged and handed it back.
“
What about this?
”
he asked.
Sunny
’
s eyes were wide and a small smile stayed on her face as she waited for Stephen
’
s answer.
“
What I wondered
—
Well, now that it turns out those people
—
the skeletons
—
were murdered and the police are trying to find stuff out, I wondered whether you remembered anything about the one you had that could help the police. We thought it was just a design, then we thought it said
‘
Vux,
’
but turns out, it
’
s Greek. Script, not print. Maybe a sorority thing.
”
He sounded lamer with each word.
“
My sorority
—
most sororities I knew of
—
had pins, not anything like that,
”
Sunny said.
“
And they had those nice blocky letters.
”
She smiled again.
“
I
’
m not much help, am I. But does this mean you really didn
’
t give it to Penny?
”
Stephen shook his head.
“
Found it.
”
All he wanted was to find a dignified, nonhumiliating way out of here. A way that wouldn
’
t erase that light in Sunny Marshall
’
s eyes, wouldn
’
t make her realize what an ass Stephen Tassio was.
“
Why didn
’
t Penny come here herself if that question
’
s so important to her?
”
“
Actually
—”
“
I
’
m sure she was nervous, with her parents so close,
”
Sunny said.
“
Although that isn
’
t to say I approve. Not at all. Things can be worked out. Have to be. Running away doesn
’
t solve anything.
”
The twins, each in a high chair, smeared apple sauce over the trays and onto their faces, crooning and giggling as they drew swirls and runnels. He felt a peculiar stab of pain and loss seeing that nobody shouted at them to stop, or rushed to douse them, take away the mess.
These were tolerant people. Honesty was the way to go.
“
To tell the truth,
”
he said,
“
I was the one who pushed about it, and now it seems pretty dim of me. Penny thought it was ridiculous to try and track it. She said those hearts were common.
”
Sunny nodded.
“
Mine was a Sweet Sixteen favor, I think.
”
“
I apologize, sir. I watch too much TV. Trying to be a good citizen, but I probably sound like a jerk.
”
Talkman smiled and shrugged.
“
I can understand. We all want to be heroes.
”
He was humoring dumb Stephen Tassio who wanted to be a Hardy Boy.
“
It seemed worth pursuing,
”
Stephen murmured.
“
I
’
m not sure why, anymore.
”
“
Well,
”
Talkman said, lifting the chain and heart again,
“
since this doesn
’
t indicate your taste in jewelry, let me say that it
’
s a pretty poor piece. Look
—
the plating
’
s so thin it
’
s all but gone over here. Man to man, here
’
s my advice.
”
His white-chocolate voice was getting into it, becoming even lower and more majestically rich. You had to listen to that voice, really hear it.
“
Buy your girlfriend something newer and better and chuck that.
”
“
Harley!
”
Sunny said.
“
He never said he was Penny
’
s boyfriend
—
did you? Are you?
”
Stephen shook his head. If they only knew how unfriendly he felt toward her. And how stupid. He
’
d done this out of anger. Out of disgust with her lies and evasions, with how she did and didn
’
t spend her time. He
’
d done this to prove something to her, and instead he
’
d made a fool of himself in front of these two incredible people.
“
Hey
—
how
’
d you know that thing was near the skeletons?
”
Harley looked at Stephen appraisingly, then he grinned.
“
You found the skeletons, didn
’
t you? You
’
re being modest. Paper never said who or how, as I recall. No wonder you
’
re involved in it
—
you
were
a hero
—
don
’
t need to become one. A modest hero. Very nice.
”
“
No, sir,
”
Stephen said.
“
Not exactly. I didn
’
t find them both. Just the first one. Part of it. And not just me.
”
He knew he shouldn
’
t have said that the second the words were out.
“
Penny, you mean,
”
Sunny said.
“
Is that how she found the heart?
”
Stephen shrugged acknowledgment.
“
Kind of.
”
He looked from one Marshall to the other.
“
So do you think it
’
s worth turning the heart over to the police?
”
Talkman smiled.
“‘
A man
’
s gotta do what a man
’
s gotta do.
’
Whatever you think is right.
”
Translation, Stephen thought: Go ahead, be as oafish with the police as you were here. Stephen would have blushed if he ever did. He nodded, stood, scooped up Penny
’
s lavaliere, and apologized for wasting time.
“
I
’
ll bet you
’
re that boy she went away with,
”
Sunny said, looking as if she
’
d discovered gold.
“
Her boyfriend. The one the detective
’
s looking for. Otherwise, how
’
d you know what
’
s going on with her now? You
’
re the boy with the yellow hearse, aren
’
t you? I
’
m so glad you
’
ve turned out to be such a nice person.
”
Stephen didn
’
t know how to react. Why was a detective tracking him?
“
You
’
re the one,
”
Sunny said.
“
I get the distinct impression you are making the young man uncomfortable, Sun. Glad to have met you, though, Stephen,
”
Talkman said.
“
And good luck.
”
Get a life, he probably meant to add. Get a life and stop playing games.
“
One thing,
”
Sunny said.
“
Whatever your plans are
—
first, please, tell Penny to come home and work things out. Please?
”
“
I
’
ll try. I really will,
”
Stephen said.
“
There
’
s nothing I want more than that.
”
Twenty
They weren
’
t exactly panic attacks. If they were, Billie told herself, she couldn
’
t objectively evaluate them this way. But even after reading Jesse every word of
The Velveteen Rabbit
and going over the events of his day again, and knowing that Ivan would check all locks and call 911 the second he heard anything suspicious, and even after starting a healthy, balanced dinner for Jesse
—
which should have alerted her son to the fact that things were nothing like normal
—
she still felt sudden
“
what if
”
churns of emotions on the way back to work.
Good thing the office was so close, counting parking, because even that amount of time stretched to include flashbacks
—
history she not only saw, but felt, as if new
—
things she had buried clawing again on her nerve ends. Jesse kidnapped. Her mother
’
s drunk seesaws from rage to silent depression. The repeated shocks of relocation, all the lost alliances and sense of security. Her father
’
s abrupt departure one afternoon while his kids were in school and his wife at the club, all signs of him
—
clothing, sports equipment, and books
—
removed without so much as a note.
“
I hate scenes,
”
he later said.
“
You know there would have been one.
”
He considered that both explanation and defense.
Bad surprises and danger. Always. She
’
d vowed to never, ever, let her life, her parenting, be that way.
By the time she
’
d reached the office and parked across the street, she was ready to admit she wasn
’
t up to the needs of the job. Part of what she loved about the very title of
“
private investigator
”
was its intimation that competency was a given. You knew something or could find it out. But you needed more than a job description and title to be competent, and Billie wasn
’
t going to make the grade unless she was more careful, more observant, more aware of occupational hazards.
She entered the small, marble-tiled elevator lobby of the old building, but took the stairs
—
they were at least dependable
—
and continued, nonstop, with her mea culpas.
She had to behave like an investigator. Starting now. Better late than
…
She pushed open the glass-and-wood door of Howe Investigations.
Zack looked up from his computer. His left cheek bulged.
“
Malt balls now?
”
Billie asked.
“
That took deductive skill.
”
It sounded more like
“
Ba tooga didugdiv skih.
”
He gestured to the crystal bowl, filled to overflowing with the dark candies as he crunched and chewed.
“
How the hell do you answer the phone sounding like that?
”
He swallowed.
“
Emma wants to see you.
”