The Root of All Trouble (9 page)

"
He came home going on and on about how he might not be ready for a commitment."

Gracie wiggled and I set her down again. She sniffed my work boots, tucked her tail and backed away slowly.

Ah, so she had some intelligence after all.

"
He was really tipsy," I said, trying to make excuses for Mr. Cabrera. "I'm sure he didn't mean—"

"
Ach! I'm not stupid, Nina Ceceri."

She usually called me by my maiden name
—a throwback to my days as her student.

"
I told him to sleep on the couch until he sobered up and that we'd discuss his concerns in the morning."

I could only imagine the tone in which she
'd issued this proclamation to him. I was pretty sure I'd heard it back in high school after getting caught skipping class.

"
When I woke up," she continued, "guess who was gone?"

"
Oh."

"
Indeed."

I fidgeted.
"Do you want me to go get him?" If she were going to kill him, I'd rather it be outside. I'd never get the bloodstains out of the upholstery.

"
No." She folded thick arms across her chest.

"
Are you sure?"

"
I'm sure I don't want to be dating a coward. Keep him here for another hour, okay? It'll give me time to pack my things."

"
You're moving out?"

She gave a stiff nod.

There was a glossy sheen in her eyes that told me she had made up her mind. She wasn't one to show the softer side of her emotions, so it was obvious how this tiff—and Mr. Cabrera's midnight desertion—had affected her. "Do you need any help?"

"
No. Thank you, but no."

"
Okay." I shifted from foot to foot, nearly stepping on Gracie. "Then I guess I'll see you at work?"

"
Is there work?"

She had a point.
"Perry and Mario's job is postponed, obviously, so we're in a bit of limbo until our normal week starts on Monday."

Clucking again—this time more softly—she said,
"I think it's time for me to take a vacation, on a cruise like your parents. They have the right idea, getting away."

A pair of robins cheeped from their perch in a maple tree.
"They're having a blast." Well, my father was. My mother was still battling sea-sickness. Which was the height of karma after badgering my father to take her on a cruise for years. It had actually taken a bit of bribery on my part to finally get them on that boat.

"
That settles it, then. I'm going to book a cruise," she said.

"
A vacation sounds like a good idea."

"
I'm glad you agree. I'll work it out with Tam. I'll be back in a week. No, two weeks."

"
Wait—you're leaving right away?" Tam Oliver was my right-hand woman at work. She was my friend, my office manager, my go-to person when I needed any computer hacking done... She and Brickhouse shared office duties, though Tam had seniority and enough of a superiority complex to boss Brickhouse around.

"
Ach. You were always a little dense, Nina Ceceri. What did you think I meant? Work is on hold. This is the perfect time to go."

With her frame of mind, I didn
't want to point out that
work
wasn't on hold—Mario and Perry's job was on hold. Although this time of year was the worst for any of my employees to take a vacation, the look in her eyes softened my usual stance. I supposed I could spare her for a while. "Send me a postcard."

Lifting her chin pretentiously, she clucked softly.
"If I have time. Don't hold your breath."

As she pivoted and marched back across the lawn, I felt an ache in my chest for what she was going through. Breakups were hard.

I knew from painful experience.

Pulling open the back door, I followed Gracie inside. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drew me into the kitchen, where I found Riley hovering over the Mr. Coffee machine breathing in the caffeinated steam.

He said, "It's almost done. I already gave Mr. C. two aspirin."

I patted his cheek
and felt the stubble on his skin. He was growing up fast. "You're a good kid."

"
I know."

"
Modest, too."

"
I get it from Dad."

"
I know."

In the living room, Mr. Cabrera was still lying prone on the couch.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," he said in a hoarse whisper.

"
Nope. I ran into Brickhouse outside."

If possible, he paled even more.
"Does she know I'm here?"

"
Yep, and she isn't too happy about it. What possessed you to sneak out in the middle of the night?"

"
She wanted to talk about weddings. Blech!" Then he suddenly burrowed into a blanket and threw a desperate look at me. "She's not in the kitchen, is she?"

"
No, she's at your house, packing. She's moving out. I suggest you drag yourself over there and throw yourself at her mercy. Beg her forgiveness."

His bottom lip jutted out stubbornly.
"Pah. She'll be back."

"
Pah" was one of the terms my mother used all the time, and I wondered when he adopted it. "I'm not so sure this time."

He waved away my concerns.
"She'll be back."

Riley brought me a mug of coffee. I loved that boy.

"By the way," he said, handing a mug to Mr. Cabrera as well, "Dad called while you were outside. He wanted to let you know that he made an arrest in the case."

I nearly choked on my coffee.
"He did? Who?"

"
Delphine Reaux."

Chapter Eight

I
relocated myself to the front porch swing, along with my sketch pads and oil pastels. I might as well get some work done while I waited for the rest of the house to rise and shine.

Sunbeams sliced through the morning haze, making the dew sparkle and leaves glitter. There was storm cleanup to be done around my yard, mostly downed twigs and trash that had blown in—I
'd put Riley to work later—but it was nothing compared to the damage across the street.

It was so like Kevin to call and drop a bombshell like Delphine being arrested and then provide no other details.

Had she confessed?

Had there been some sort of damning evidence found that I didn
't know about?

I
'd have to wait to find out, like everyone else.

Flipping open my sketch pad, I stared at the drawing I
'd started months ago, the sketch of Mario and Perry's back yard once my crew was through with it.

Because neither of the men liked a lot of manual labor and didn
't want to mow much grass, the design included a lot of hardscaping, in the form of flagstone pathways, a large patio with an outdoor fireplace, and a private sunbathing deck tucked into the corner of the yard. Along with a water feature and easy-care flowerbeds, the yard would provide the peace and tranquility the couple had hoped for by moving to the suburbs.

So far, they hadn
't found much of either. Not with the renovations on the house and the body in the back yard.

Directly across the street, I spotted Ana
's car in Kit's driveway and wondered when Operation Move-In would commence. Soon, I would imagine. When Ana set her mind to something there was no stopping her.

The screen door creaked open and a sleepy-eyed Perry tiptoed out, a mug of coffee in hand. I gathered up my supplies to make room for him to sit down. He looked quite preppy in his designer lounge pants and v-necked tee, but adorable with his bare feet, bed-head hair, and scruffy stubble. It was a rare moment to see Perry not completely put together, head to toe.

"Is Mario still asleep?" I asked.

He grunted.

"Are
you
still asleep?"

"
I might be. This all feels like some kind of pot-induced dream." His eyes cut to me. "Not that I would know what that's like."

"
I'm sure if you did, that it was medicinal."

He took a sip of coffee.
"And yes, Mario's asleep. Last night he took one of those little pills your mother likes so much—she'd given him some after his meltdown about the hardwood floors needing to be replaced."

My mother had better stop doling out those little pills—I didn
't want to see her in jail.

Well, okay, maybe jail for a
day
. But that's it. I swear. I'd even settle for one lowly mug shot.

"
He'll be zonked out until noon unless a bulldozer comes along and scoops him out of bed." Perry battled a yawn (the yawn won). "How are you so peppy this time of the morning?"

I ignored the
"peppy" remark, figuring that at seven a.m. anyone wide awake with a pulse would probably be considered peppy to him.

Setting my sketch book on the table next to the swing, I
asked, "Did you hear the news about Delphine?"

"
What news?"

I filled him in. He whistled low and looked decidedly relieved.
"Delphine. Wow. Why? Because she found out Joey was married?"

"
I don't know any of the hows or whys or whens."

"
Are they sure it's her?" he asked, dropping his voice. He glanced around nervously.

Shifting, I angled to face him.
"What's up with you?"

His Adam
's apple bobbed. "Can you keep a secret?"

"
Depends."

"
Nina..."

"
I can
try
."

Biting his lip, he searched my face.
"Okay, but try
really
hard."

"
You're making me crazy. Just tell me already!"

"
Mario was the last one to see Joey alive."

I glanced around and whispered,
"He was? When? Where?"

"
Well, you know how Joey and I got into it the morning he walked off the job?"

"
Over the marble tiles."

"
Right. But there was a little more to it than that. He said some nasty things about the way Mario and I choose to live our lives. When I told Mario about it later that day, he went looking for a fight."

"
Because of the nasty things he said or the cheap ceramic tiles?"

Perry
's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Not sure which was worse to him, but he was itching to go a round or two."

"
Did he?"

"
He tracked him down at his townhouse, and they had a little scuffle. A few punches thrown, a lot of yelling. But according to Mario, Joey was alive when he left. And he wasn't alone."

"
No?"

"
When he got there, Mario heard Joey arguing with a man when he knocked on the door, and then heard noises down the hall while he was inside. But he didn't see who it was. He said the voice was familiar but he couldn't quite place it."

"
Arguing about what?"

"
Something about a girl. Honey, maybe. Mario said that Joey was mocking someone fiercely for having feelings for 'her.' And said something like 'you love her, don't you?'"

"
Wow," I said.

"
I know. Did you see Honey? I don't think she's that much of a catch. Those eyelashes, sugar? She's trying much too hard."

"
Maybe they were talking about Delphine." Bear certainly wasn't happy Delphine had been seeing Joey. But that didn't make sense—he'd been at work at Perry's house.

"
Well," he said, sipping his coffee, "that I can understand. Delphine is a catch."

One I
'd toss back. "What time was Mario at Joey's?"

Perry bobbed his head from side to side.
"Two, three o'clock. He was home by three thirty. The crew was gone, so we locked the doors, split a bottle of wine and—"

I held up my hand.
"I don't need the details."

He laughed.
"We ate every bit of junk food in the house. Don't tell him I told you."

I laughed.
"Promise." Then something he said registered and didn't make sense. "Why wasn't the crew there when he got back?" They still had a lot of work to do.