Page 51 of One Last Lie

I glare at Isabella and Elijah, even though it makes my heart break. I’ll apologize to them later and explain everything, but for now, I need the police officer to remain in the house so I can talk to him.

“The children should learn that rudeness toward guests will not be tolerated for any reason.”

Isabella gives me a look of betrayal that crushes me. Elijah, however, seems to understand what I’m doing, or at least have some idea of it. He leans down and whispers to Isabella, and her lips stop trembling. She nods and glares at Richard instead of me.

Cecilia gives a shrill laugh and says, “Mary, you’re not in charge here, I am, so how about—”

The door opens, and Cecilia turns away and puts her hands on top of her head. Javier steps inside and says apologetically. “Ma’am, I apologize for intruding, but are the children ready? School starts in…” He notices Richard and reddens. “Oh. Detective Holloway. I apologize. I didn’t see your car.”

“I parked it on the side,” he says. “Why buy a truck if you can’t park it in dirt every now and then?”

Javier smiles weakly at the joke and turns to Cecilia. “Are the children staying h—”

“Nope,” Isabella says, brushing past Elijah. “Let’s go, Sammy. We’ll leave Shrimpy over here to get caught in Mommy’s net.”

She lifts her middle finger and jabs it toward Richard, holding the gesture until Elijah catches up to her and pushes her arm down. Once more, I notice the flatness in Richard’s expression. Javier glances nervously at me, and I shake my head. He gives Richard another strained smile, then closes the door behind the children.

Richard turns to us with a badly forced smile. “Well, that was fun. Shall we go drink some coffee?”

“Richard, this is really not a good time.”

Richard seems to notice for the first time that Cecilia is unhappy he’s here. He frowns, and the look is petulant enough that it destroys his attractiveness.

I’m no longer so sure about Detective Holloway, but he is a police officer, after all. Besides, if I am to be banished from this house today, this might be my last chance to talk to someone before Cecilia has a chance to cover up any involvement she might have.

So, once more, I intervene. "Nonsense! The children are gone. At least let your guest enjoy a cup of coffee. The children really shouldn’t see you bow to such horribly rude behavior.”

“Yeah, I agree with that,” Richard interjects. “I’ve told you before that—”

Cecilia’s eyes snap toward him, and he clams up. I notice the look they share, though, and my doubts increase. Perhaps I am too quick to assume his badge will override his attraction.

His Shrimpy.

I push the vulgar thought away and say, “Come along then. I’ll tell Paolo to start coffee.”

“Sure!” Cecilia says, throwing her hands in the air. “Why not? After all, what does it matter what I think?”

“They’re going to have to get used to me,” Richard says. “Or, they’ll have to—”

Another look from Cecilia silences him.

I wait for them to take their seats in the dining room, then head to the kitchen. “Paolo? We have a guest. Would you mind…”

The kitchen is empty. I sigh in exasperation. That man has a particular talent for avoiding uncomfortable situations. Hopefully, I can learn that gift someday.

I poke my head into the dining room and say, “It appears our elusive chef has fled. I’ll make the coffee for you.”

“Extra vodka in mine, please,” Cecilia says drily.

“Ooh, I’ll take some too!” Richard adds.

“I was joking, Richard,” she snaps.

For an instant, he looks at her with the same coldness that he regards Isabella earlier. I feel a chill and decide I need to get to know our Detective a little better before confiding in him.

I make the coffee and hear them speaking in low voices, clearly taking advantage of my absence. That’s not surprising. I didn’t expect them to discuss their personal lives in front of me.

I finish the coffee but pause at the door and put my ear against it. As a child, I would often spy on my parents this way. I feel absurdly foolish doing it now, but I want a sense of what Richard is like when not controlling himself in front of strangers.

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