Page 16 of Free to Breathe
“Charlie.” He turns around. “We celebrate the successes. What do we do about the ones…” My voice trails off.
His eyes darken. He swallows convulsively. Shit. “I don’t know about the others, Colby, but I pray. A lot. For their families. For their souls. For peace. And then I go spend time with some of the people I’ve saved.”
I’m confused. “People from previous investigations?”
He shakes his head. “No, the family. Phil, Cass, Em, Ali, Corinna, and Holly. And then I realize for the ones we do save, they can make a future, a family, and have a tomorrow even if their today seems pretty fucking bleak.” He takes a breath. “Call Caleb. Otherwise, you’ll be fighting Phil for pizza.”
I take a moment to absorb what he said before I almost blindly call Caleb.
* * *
As I swingmy Jeep into the parking lot of Amaryllis Events an hour later, Caleb’s Porsche pulls in right behind me. I jump out and make my way over to him. “Need any help?” I call out.
“That’s an understatement.” He walks around the back of his Cayman and opens the trunk to reveal enough food to feed a platoon. Or a pack of hungry Freemans.
“Jesus, is someone pregnant again?” I mutter as I take the boxes of pizza he shoves at me.
“Not that I’m aware of.” Pausing, he says, “Not that we’d mind. But on top of our normal lunch order, Cori asked for me to pick up some food she needs for a lunch she’s having tomorrow with her friend.”
“Oh?” I ask blandly. “Who is it?”
Caleb carefully balances the large box he lifted. Inside the box is a plastic sack filled with sliced deli meat and cheese. Closing the trunk, he replies, “I don’t know. She never said.” Redistributing the weight between both arms, he juggles the one with the deli meat. “I was just asked if I could do her a favor since she’s so busy.”
I shake my head. I wonder if she didn’t mention who it was because it’s some guy she’s banging.
Caleb, not one to miss much, asks, “What’s the issue between you two anyway?”
I try for plausible deniability. “What issue?”
Caleb barks out a laugh. “Just to let you know, evade and diversion tactics don’t work well in this family. I’m not so sure they ever did.”
I snort. “There’s nothing to evade.” Even though I might wish otherwise.
“Right, Colby. Then why did you suddenly get all bothered when I said a friend was coming to see Corinna?” Instead of heading toward the covered front porch and the stained-glass door, Caleb makes his way toward the back of the converted mansion.
Directly toward the door leading into Corinna’s kitchen.
“I’m not bothered. I’m…surprised. Everyone always says how busy Corinna is. I’m just shocked she’s taking off in the middle of a workday to see a friend.” I throw that lame-ass excuse out just as the back door opens.
And of course, Corinna hears me.
“You’re an ass, Colby. You know that? I set my own hours. All that matters are that the cakes are made. Oh, and just for the record? I’m coming in early to make up the hours I’m away,” Corinna snaps. Her eyes, which can turn gold with joy or brown when she’s furious, are currently a rich shade of chocolate.
Shit.
“Caleb, you know where everything goes.” Corinna nods to an available worktable along the wall.
“Where do you want your stuff, Cori?” Caleb places his box on the table, then holds up the white bag he was also carrying.
Cori picks up her piping bag and begins swirling frosting on a cupcake so fast, my eyes cross.
Moving to the next one, she tips her head to the large stainless-steel door behind me. “Any particular shelf?” Caleb calls out.
“Where the juices are is fine. Nowhere near any of the cakes,” Cori calls out. Her hands haven’t stopped. She’s decorating cupcake after cupcake with what looks like… I reach my hand over to the bowl to get a sample.
My hand is sharply slapped. I look up in surprise. “Get your hands out of my frosting.” Her voice is as cold as the air blasting us from the refrigerator.
“I just wanted to see if that was orange frosting,” I protest. “You never minded before.”
