Page 40 of Tessa's Trust

Mrs. Nordeliano was a friend of my nonna’s, and she’d made sure we had the one secluded table to ourselves.

I munched on a breadstick, somewhat preoccupied with the fact that I’d committed a crime earlier today. Breaking and entering or perhaps petit theft, considering I’d taken the photographs off Sadie’s fridge.

“I can’t believe you broke into Sadie’s home,” Nick said, reaching for his third breadstick. Where did he put the carbs? The guy’s stomach was flatter than an ice rink, and I’d bet my last dollar his abs were ripped. Like actually ripped and not airbrushed.

“I didn’t.” I may have jumped through the open window, but I wasn’t the one who broke it.

He sipped his wine, just watching me.

I watched him right back, although my face soon heated with that painful blush again. “Shouldn’t you be in trial?”

“The defense made a motion for continuance, and since nobody wanted to be in trial during the holiday season, we all agreed.” He shrugged. “Nobody wants to work between Christmas and New Year’s Day.”

Crap. “Just a sec.” I tugged my phone from my purse and sent off a quick text to Mert Smiley, telling him that something had come up and I wouldn’t be able to make it today. Yeah, I was too cowardly to call the guy. He could have quite the temper, and right now, I’d just yell back at him. Then I promised I’d be there first thing tomorrow morning. Hopefully, that appeased him enough that he wouldn’t have a coronary.

Mrs. Nordeliano delivered our meals herself, smiling widely. She was around seventy but looked fifty with her olive-toned skin and dark hair cut in a bob. “It’s so nice to see you two together finally.”

The fragrant smell of lasagna mellowed me out. “It was kind of Nick to finally ask me to lunch,” I agreed, more than happy to toss his butt under the bus.

His chin lowered in a clear warning. “I’ve been asking you out forever. It took your nonna pushing you to say yes.”

Good to know that Nick had no trouble rolling me under that bus with him.

Mrs. Nordeliano beamed. “I heard you were fighting the inevitable. Darn young’uns.” She smacked Nick on the shoulder with a loud clap. “Call out if you need more wine.” Then she bustled off, leaving us with truly brilliant pasta.

“Did you find anything in Sadie’s place?” Nick asked mildly after sampling his butternut squash ravioli.

I swallowed. “Hypothetically, if I had been inside Sadie’s home without her permission, then I might have—hypothetically—found a picture showing evidence that the murder weapon found in Rudy’s chest and the knife in my fridge came from her kitchen.”

Nick stiffened. “No kidding?”

I nodded. “I take it Sheriff Franco neglected to inform you of that fact, as well?”

Nick took another bite of his lunch. “Yeah. Can’t blame him, though. I’m a witness on this one, not a prosecutor. He shouldn’t share anything with us unless he’s also fishing for information, which I’m sure is his plan.”

“I had a good motive to kill Rudy Brando,” I mused after taking a drink of my wine. It tasted like a merlot, which was pretty good.

“That’s true, but why would you do it in your own building?” Nick shook his head. “Or put the other knife in your fridge?”

I didn’t have a clue. “To throw off the authorities?”

“Was the entire knife block missing?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I just saw a picture of it. I mean, if I’d been there, I would’ve just…” I gave up and tugged the photos from my bag, handing the relevant one to Nick. “Would you somehow believe that we found this outside her place in the snow?”

The word he muttered wasn’t one his grandmother would appreciate. Even so, he took the picture and studied it. “Yep. Same knives.”

I’d examine the rest of the pictures later when he wasn’t around. I cleared my throat. “You never said why you were looking for me to the point where you followed us out to Bear Creek.”

He placed the picture on the white tablecloth and lifted his chin. “I wanted to talk to you. A search of Ozzie Morrison’s truck unearthed both a copy of the charging documents for his brother…and a picture of you.”

My head jerked. “Huh?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. It was a printout. No words and no direction.” He reached into his back pocket and drew out a folded piece of paper, handing it over.

I unfolded it to see a grainy picture of me taken last week when I was waitressing at Smiley’s. I was wearing a Christmas apron and had reindeer antlers on. “This was for a kids’ party. Several local preschools came by for holiday pancakes.” The photograph had been taken through the window, and I hadn’t even noticed. The pasta suddenly tasted like dust. “I don’t understand what this means.”

Nick reclaimed the paper, his warm hand brushing mine. “Best guess? Apparently, Ozzie wanted to shoot at us both.”

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