“So, what if the kids were rotten while I was gone and he’s decided being involved with a single mom is too much? What if he missed sleeping in his own apartment and going for beers with Joey and working cases whenever he wants? What if he’s sick of being a public spectacle because of Stacey and her idiotic social media posts?”
Vero jabbed my forehead with her pointer finger. “You let those idiotic posts get in your head. Don’t go looking for chin hairs where there aren’t any. Now, let’s go get Javi and get this show on the road. We should leave now if we want to beat rush hour.”
We said one last round of goodbyes to Norma and Gloria and loaded Javi and his crutches into the back seat of the van. Wendell, Joan, Eugene, and Lenore all came out of their houses to bid us farewell. Even Sophia came to the end of her driveway to flip us off on our way out of the neighborhood.
We rounded the Beltway toward the Potomac River bridge at a modest sixty-five miles per hour. We’d made it this far without a ticket, and I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. When we finally passed theWELCOME TO VIRGINIAsign, Vero kicked off her shoes and propped her naked ankles on the dashboard. “It sure is good to be home,” she said.
CHAPTER 37
We dropped Javi off at his apartment above Ramón’s garage and rolled into South Riding just before dusk. The sun hadn’t yet dipped below the horizon, and the streetlamps in the neighborhood had yet to turn on.
I cruised past our house, ignoring the pull I felt toward it when I saw Nick’s Impala in the driveway.
“Where are we going?” Vero asked. “I thought we were going home.”
“We are. I just have one stop to make first.” I turned at the next street and slowed in front of Stacey’s house. A light was on in her kitchen window, and I could see her kids playing on their trampoline in the backyard. I pulled into her driveway and parked beside her car.
“Oh boy,” Vero said as I put the minivan in park. “Want any backup?”
“No. This won’t take long.”
I walked to Stacey’s front door and rang the bell. Pots and pans clattered in the kitchen, and Stacey hollered at her husband to turn the volume on the TV down. She wiped her hands on a dish towelas she came to the front door. She slowed when she spotted me through the window, her smile faltering.
“Finlay? What a surprise. I didn’t know you were back in town.” Her gaze darted to my van. Vero waggled her fingers out of her open window. I was sure she was listening to every word. “Did Vero have her trial already?”
“Her charges were dropped,” I said. “So you can go back to your little social media parade and tell all your followers that she isn’t going to prison. She’s coming home with me and the kids, and I don’t want to hear another word about it. Not at the bus stop. Not at the playground. And not online. Furthermore,” I said, my anger building to a dangerous crescendo, “the color and cut of my boyfriend’s underwear is none of your business. Neither is the frequency of his visits to my home, the status of our relationship, or how often he spends the night. But since I’m tired of all the speculation and gossip and your bullshit polls, I’m going to give it to you straight from the horse’s mouth, Stacey: Nick looks damn good inandout of his underwear, our relationship is doing just fine, and if he ever does move in with me, you’d be the last person I’d tell about it. You can inform all your followers that the stunning woman you saw leaving my house the other night—the one you and your friends were so eager to dox—happens to be a special investigator in cyber-forensic crimes. She also happens to be a very good shot.”
Stacey recoiled. “We didn’t mean anything by it, Finlay. We were just concerned about you—”
“Sure you were,” I said drily. “Next time you’re feelingconcernedabout my life, bring a plate of brownies to my house and ask me to my face. Oh, and one more thing,” I said, feeling inspired. “In case you haven’t heard, Margaret Haggerty and I are working on a book together. I’m thinking of calling itThe Neighborhood Watch. There’s a scandalous amount of sex in it, plenty of white-collar crime, loads of backstabbing and suburban-mom drama, anda shocking amount of drugs,” I said, listing off the highlights. “My agent thinks it’s got the makings of an instant bestseller. I have no idea if all of it’s true,” I added with a shrug. “Maybe I’ll put it all up to a vote and leave it to my followers to decide.”
Stacey looked a little sick as I said a curt goodbye and strutted back to my van.
“That. Was. Epic!” Vero said as I got in and slammed the door. “Also, I need to read every chapter of that damn book. Was that true? Are you actually going to help Mrs. Haggerty write it?”
“Sure, why not?” At least then I’d have some control over what she put in it.
I drove to my house and parked beside Nick’s Impala. I leaned closer to the windshield, trying to peek inside the kitchen windows, expecting to see Zach and Delia’s eager faces, but the blinds were all drawn.
“That’s strange. I texted Nick two hours ago and told him we were on the way home.” I checked my phone, surprised to see he hadn’t read any of my messages yet.
I peeked up at the house again. From the outside, everything looked perfectly quiet.
“Quit worrying,” Vero said. “I’m sure Nick has everything under control.”
“But—”
“Everything is fine, Finn. There were no bodies in the shower curtain,” she reminded me. “Stop letting your mind run straight to the worst-case scenario.” She was out of her seat before I managed to put the van in park. She didn’t bother to unload her suitcases, jogging straight to the front door as she dug in her purse. I barely had time to grab my overnight bag before she’d wrestled her house key into the lock.
“I’m home!” she called as she flung the door open.
Two tiny heads popped up from the sofa. Delia gasped. “Vero!”She leaped off the couch and dove into Vero’s arms, nearly knocking her backward off her feet.
“Wewo!” Zach scrambled off the sofa, his little legs pumping as he plowed into Vero’s knees.
“Oh boy, did I miss you two monsters!” She squeezed them tight, fighting back sniffles as she drank them in.
I closed the door and dropped my overnight bag. “Do I get a turn?”
