“Not bad,” Nick said to me after the party was in full swing. He took a sip of his beer and cast his gaze around the living room.
“Thanks,” I said. “I got a really good deal on the place.”
“You’re settling in all right?”
I nodded. “It’s weird. I mean, I lived in that other house my whole life. But this one’s pretty nice.”
“I guess after what you went through, having a place of your own again has to feel good.”
“It does,” I admitted. Through the back window I could see people sitting in lawn chairs, laughing and talking. It was still a bit of a holy crap for me to realize I actually had a lawn. Pietro had thrown in all new landscaping as a housewarming gift. Grass, bushes, trees, even a frickin’ gazebo. “I mean, Marcus and I are doing great now,” I continued, “but I’m still not ready to move in for real or anything. And besides, my dad still needed a place to live.”
A combined expression of disappointment and hope passed briefly over his face before being controlled and replaced with a typical Nick disinterested expression. “Sure. Great that your dad can have that now.”
Sometimes I could be a little slow on the uptake, but I was starting to figure out that Nick liked me. And while I liked him well enough as a friend, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel anything more—even if I wasn’t already involved with Marcus. However, this was the first time I’d ever been in this position, and I didn’t have the faintest clue how to handle it.
“So, um, I rescheduled my GED,” I said, scrambling to neutral ground. “Two months from now. You still up for pounding knowledge into my skull?”
He gave a diffident shrug. “If you still need it, I can make myself available,” he said casually.
“Hell yeah, I still need it.” I smiled. “And I’m also gonna get tested to see if there’s a reason I’m so darn thick-headed.”
“That’s a good idea,” he said, then abruptly looked discomfited. “I didn’t mean that you’re thick-headed. It’s just good to find out about the possibility of dyslexia.”
I laughed softly. “I know. It’s cool.” I actually already knew the answer. I intended to get tested to make it official, but delving into my school records had uncovered preliminary screening suggesting dyslexia with further testing recommended—testing that my mother had flatly refused to pursue. There was even a note in the records about repeated inquiries to Mrs. Crawford that had been rebuffed. Had my mother known the hell I went through because of that? And if so, had she cared?
I doubted it. Made me all the more grateful to have people around me now who cared for real.
I gave Nick a smile. “GED, here I come.” Over his shoulder I saw more people come in. “Oh, there’s Dr. Leblanc…Good god, and the coroner. I’d better go say hi.” I gave Nick a hug. “Thanks for everything.”
He returned the hug, then released me with only a trace of reluctance. “No problem,” he said gruffly.
Smiling, I moved off and greeted the new arrivals, then found myself drawn into a bizarre conversation with Dr. Leblanc, Derrel, Dr. Duplessis, and Mike Abadie about the usefulness of the examination of stomach contents in solving murder cases. I finally excused myself to check on drinks, only to be surprised as all hell when I saw Pietro and Jane Pennington enter—followed by Brian in his black suit and looking every inch the personal security guard.
I gave Brian a smile and wave. He responded with a slight nod and then returned to checking out exits and possible threats and whatever the hell else someone in his position did.
“Pietro! Jane!” I said, grinning. “I didn’t think y’all would come. Thanks!”
“We almost didn’t,” Jane admitted after giving me a quick but warm hug of greeting. “My flight was delayed an hour, and we literally came straight from the airport.”
“I’m really glad you could make it,” I said fervently. I hadn’t spent much time with the woman, but she was already one of my favorite people. “It’s not a mansion,” I continued, gesturing around me, “but it’s definitely a step up from the old place.”
“It’s a nice house,” Pietro said with an approving smile. “And the landscaping turned out well.”
“Yes, thanks so much for that. I have a lawn! And an actual driveway!” Grinning, I looked to Jane. “Not even a year ago, the driveway was paved with crushed beer cans. I had quite the trashy look going on.”
She wrinkled her nose, chuckled. “Yes, I can see the appeal of pavement.”
I gave a mock shudder. “I’m almost respectable!”
“Angel, I’m sorry, but we can’t stay,” Pietro said. “Jane has a heavy schedule. However, we wanted to at least stop by.”
“That’s cool,” I said. “I appreciate that you came at all.”
We made our goodbyes, with Pietro surprising the hell out of me by giving me an honest-to-god hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading to the door with Jane.
Brian stepped up to me before they exited. “I’m with them, so I can’t stay, but I wanted to congratulate you on your new home.” He smiled, and I had the sense he was referring to more than just the physical house.
“Thanks,” I said automatically, but I couldn’t help but feel another twinge of worry and angst about being so much deeper into the Pietro “home” now. “I hope it all works out for the best.”
Brian was sharp enough to catch my slight hesitancy. “That’s pretty much what we’re all shooting for in the end,” he said, then gave me a smile. “Enjoy the party.”
I watched him go, then frowned slightly when a woman I didn’t know came in. At least I thought I didn’t know her until I caught her eye and she gave me a bright smile and cheery wave. I smiled back in delight.
“Heather!” I cried out. She had hazel contact lenses in, and her once loose, blond hair was now a deep chestnut pulled back in a flattering twist. Her face was subtly different as well, and after a few seconds of peering I decided, at the very least, she’d had cheek implants and a nose job. She was still quite pretty, but she’d be able to blend into a crowd easily.
“Angel!” she cried. “This is so great!”
“I’m so glad you made it,” I told her.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, “even though my social calendar is sooo jam packed.” She rolled her eyes.
I laughed. “You’re way too busy kicking ass and taking names.”
“I can’t help myself,” she said with a snort, then glanced back, frowned. “Dammit, I lost Kyle. Where the hell did he go? He was right behind me.”
“He’s probably scouting the perimeter,” I pointed out.
Her mouth curved into a fierce scowl. “This is a parrrrrty. He isn’t supposed to be working.”
“I think he’s always worrrrrking,” I replied.
She laughed. “True. Not even going to try to argue that one.”
“How’s everything going for you?”
“Pretty damn good,” she said with a smile, then cocked her head toward a quiet corner and headed that way.
I got the idea she wanted a private word and followed. “What’s up, chick?”
“I’m dead!” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Yes, I know,” I replied with a grin. “I even went out on the scene, though there wasn’t much body to recover.”
Two days after Philip’s meltdown on the movie set, the burnt-out shell of Heather’s Jeep had been found at the end of Shore Road. When the sheriff’s office investigated, they discovered a body—or rather they discovered teeth from a body, since the fire had been hot enough to burn the bones to ash. Between dental records that convinced authorities the teeth belonged to Heather, and a significant amount of blood near the burned car that matched her DNA, there was no doubt in the eyes of the law that she was quite dead.