Riley extricated herself from Nick’s embrace and got to her feet. She felt like she was standing on the deck of a cruise ship during hurricane season. “Okay, I’m just going to get this over with. I met someone today.”
“Speak up. I can’t hear you over the crunching,” Mrs. Penny hollered.
Nick shot to his feet. “Are you breaking up with me? Because I’m not going to let you. I know I’ve been distracted, but that’s all over—”
Riley pushed him back down into the chair. “I’m not breaking up with you,” she assured him. Movement in the doorway caught her eye.
It was Mr. Willicott, lugging a soup pot and wearing Riley’s green cardigan that had gone missing from the laundry room a few months earlier. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded to someone just out of sight.
“Shoo. Go away, elderly person,” came the whispered reply.
“Crap,” Riley muttered. She’d been given strict instructions on how this was to go down.
Burt abandoned his Pork Rind Watch and pranced into the foyer to sniff the visitors.
“Who is Willicott talking to?” Nick demanded.
“That’s what I want to tell you,” Riley said, pulling out the Fresh Pressed napkin with the notes she was supposed to follow. Clearing her throat, she began to read. “Into every life there comes a special person whose presence is missed…uhhh…” She paused and squinted at the smeared ink. “Something about absence.”
“Are you reading a speech?” Kellen asked from his stance against the fireplace.
“I’m trying to, but there’s a lot of green smoothie on it. There was a spitting incident.”
The ear from one of the golden cherubs under the mantel landed with a thunk on the floor behind Kellen. Ignoring it, Riley found her spot on the napkin and pressed on. “When that person returns to your life, bringing with her joy and…something I can’t read…uh, those who missed her will become whole again.”
Reading was giving her a headache to go along with her full-body ache.
“Thorn, what the hell is this?” Nick demanded, rising from his chair again. “Did you join a cult today?”
Riley put her hand on his chest to hold him in place. “I don’t think so. Um, without further ado, I give you your missing piece.”
There was a pop, and a shower of pink confetti filled the doorway. Burt joyfully jumped in the air, biting at the confetti.
“That better not be glitter,” Mrs. Penny muttered.
“Ta-da!” Sesame stepped into the doorway, hip-checking Burt out of the way and thrusting her arms into the air like a large-breasted ringleader.
Mr. Willicott sidled up next to her. “Wanna see my lobster?” he asked, still holding the pot.
Sesame grabbed the lid off the pot and threw it into the foyer. “Go fetch,” she said before resuming her grand-entrance position. Mr. Willicott shuffled off after the lid.
Riley wished she could crawl into bed and sleep for the next eighteen or so hours.
“You didn’t make friends with another serial killer, did you?” Nick asked, no longer trying to get past her.
Riley turned to look at him, then instantly regretted it as the room began to spin. She leaned against the wingback chair she’d bought at Wander’s neighborhood yard sale. “Do you recognize her?”
“Do I recognize Miss Confetti? No. Who is she? Is she the one who took you to Savannah’s?”
Oh, boy. This wasn’t going well.
Riley carefully spared a glance at Weber, who looked just as annoyed and confused.
“Hi, Kelly. Hi, Nicky. It’s me, Beth,” Sesame said, lowering her arms.
Nick went rigid against Riley. She could feel the hammering of his heart under her hand.
Kellen was frozen to the spot, staring at the woman in the door.
