Then I stretched before moving into several different poses, allowing my mind to wander. I enjoyed yoga but wasn’t very good at it. Even so, I went through the poses and mulled everything over. Through the Santa case, through Violet’s case, through Aiden’s case. One thought after the next, just letting them flow.
My phone buzzed and I sat, reaching for it to see the screen. Happiness bubbled through me. “Are you back in town?” I asked.
My cousin Bosco chuckled. “Yeah. I wanted to get your scoop on this Heather.”
Seriously. Everyone thought women could gossip, but the Albertini boys were in a world of their own—especially when it came to one of their brothers. Bosco was the youngest of six, and Quint was the second oldest. Although considering Bosco was a tough guy in the Navy, it was hard to imagine him as a little brother. “Heather is awesome, and I think she’s perfect for Quint. The second you meet her, you’ll love her,” I said.
Bosco was quiet for a second. “That’s good news, then. Hey. I’m watching Fabio for Knox, and if I get called into work, do you mind taking him?” Knox was another older brother and Fabio his adorable mutt.
I thought about the teenager and dog already in my living room. “No problem. Just let me know, and I’ll figure it out.” I actually loved dog-sitting for all of my cousins and was usually the first in line when somebody needed a place for their pooch. “I don’t suppose you know someone who’d like to take in a cute teenager and her own dog?”
“You’re not a teenager, and you don’t have a dog.”
I sighed. “Not me, dumbass. I have a young friend, and she’s alone in the world, and I’m trying to figure out a good place for her.”
“Like a foster home?” Bosco asked, the sound of coffee percolating in the background.
“Yes, but one that we know,” I said. “She’s hesitant.”
Fabio barked in the background.
“Knock it off,” Bosco called to the dog, and the dog stopped barking. “Well, I don’t know, but what about Mom and Dad?”
“Huh?” I extended my left leg and leaned over, grimacing as pain flared through my abdomen from hitting a coffee table thanks to good old Crackle.
Bosco drank noisily. “Ugh. I need a new coffeemaker.” He sighed. “Mom and Dad were foster parents years ago, and I know our mother needs something to do other than try to matchmake us all and get grandbabies. I swear, I’d like to ground her from hanging out with Nonna. They’reobsessed.”
I perked up. “I’d completely forgotten that they used to take in foster kids.”
“Sure. Through the years, they’ve taken in kids.”
There had always been so many kids at the Albertini houses that it had seemed normal to have a bunch of extra people at family gatherings. “Do you think they’d want to take in a teenaged girl?”
“Dunno, but why not? I mean, if they want to take in another kid. They might not want to at this point,” Bosco said. “Dad won’t retire from the mine, and Mom is pretty busy overall with her antique shop, but she might also like having a girl around for a change. Or not. I don’t know, Anna Banana.”
Fair enough. I’d call after I finished with Bos. “Are you home for good?” He normally worked out of Fairchild, on the other side of Spokane, but lately he’d been traveling quite a bit.
“Not sure. I was only gone a couple of weeks, and I return to find out that Quint is inluv.” Bosco snorted.
“Well, Heather is a zillion times better for Quint than who he was dating. Can you believe it? He slept with my nemesis,” I said.
Bosco’s chuckle was all Albertini. “You have a nemesis?”
“Yeah. Jolene O’Sullivan. You remember her, I’m sure. She’s now a reporter with theTimber City Gazette.” I settled in and gossiped my heart out with Bosco, enjoying his easy laugh the entire time. Finally, I wound down. “I should go get breakfast ready for a teen and a dog.”
“All right. Catch you later.” Bosco hung up.
My doorbell rang.
I stretched to my feet and opened the laundry room door to see Violet sitting up sleepily on the sofa. “Sorry about that,” I said. “It’s early for UPS.” Although, after a quick glance at my phone, it was nine in the morning. The sound of my shower running in the master bath caught my attention as I bustled for the door and opened it.
My spine tingled as I saw the dozen red roses.
“Delivery for Anna Albertini.” The delivery lady looked to be in her mid-sixties, and she’d left her van running in the driveway.
I took the flowers. “Wait a sec.” There wasn’t a card. “Who sent these?” A quick glance to the side of my garage confirmed that the same heart was there with no additional markings.
“I don’t know,” the woman said, pushing her black knit hat farther back on her gray hair. She wore a down jacket, dark jeans, and rubber-soled black boots. “I just deliver the flowers, and that one doesn’t have a card.”
