Tainted Mind Page 5

  Obligation wasn't always a bad thing. For him, and he suspected for Vivienne too, obligation wasn't wrapped in martyrdom, but rather in guilt mixed with a genuine belief in the good he was doing. He'd bet she was driven to do what she did because she could, and her moral code wouldn't let her do otherwise. At least, if she was anything like him.

  Passing the mini–Statue of Liberty that marked the edge of Riverside, Ian headed north toward Windsor and wondered about Vivienne's conversation with the governor and what might have happened to her in the past year. Maybe it had something to do with one too many bodies he thought, remembering what she'd said yesterday. Her practical nature and obvious work ethic made him think she wasn't a woman who'd make the decision to walk away easily. So, whatever it was, it must have been big. It had taken an IED to make him to walk away.

  Whatever brought her here, he wasn't going to speculate or look a gift horse in the mouth. But maybe he could hedge his bets and at least try to make it easier for her. He couldn't change the facts of the case, but there were other things he could do for Vivienne.

  CHAPTER 5

  VIVI WALKED INTO THE TAVERN and caught Rob's eye. They'd talked enough over the past few days that she could call him an acquaintance, if not a friend-in-the-making.

  “Hey, Rob. I have some things to take care of, but I was wondering if I could get a ploughman's plate and salad in my room?”

  “Already there,” he answered, drying a glass and stacking it back in a perfect line.

  “Ah, okay. Thanks?”

  Rob smiled. “Ian called. Said you were on your way back and hadn't eaten dinner. He asked me to get a plate ready for you.”

  Vivi gave this bit of information a thought. It made her feel a little strange because he didn't need to take care of her, or even look out for her. But he had and hadn't made big deal out of it. A small luxury she didn't often experience.

  “So, you're going to help him with that murder case?” Rob's voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “As much as I can,” she answered. “He's a good cop, isn't he?”

  Rob nodded. “How long will you stick around?”

  “We'll have to see how things go. It's too early yet to have any ideas about where the evidence will take us.”

  “But there is evidence?”

  “There's always evidence,” she answered without answering.

  “Fair enough,” he said, sliding a pint in front of her. “And when you're done, are you going to head home?” She shrugged in response, not having given it much thought.

  “Boston's not far,” he continued. “Just a couple of hours away.”

  She nodded at his obvious statement. “Go ahead and take that upstairs,” Rob added with a nod to the glass in her hand. “I'll collect it with the rest of dishes when you're done. Just give me a call.”

  She thanked him and turned toward the stairs. She was halfway up when she realized something. Coming back down, she stopped at the end of the bar. Rob looked up, drying yet another glass. The man was always on the move.

  “Are you trying to play matchmaker for Ian and me?” She should have let it go, but on the heels of her conversation with Kathryn, she couldn't do that.

  “Men don't play matchmaker, Dr. DeMarco.”

  “Call me Vivienne or Vivi. Then were you doing whatever it is men do to try to get their friends, uh,” she paused, not quite sure of the word she wanted to use.

  “Laid?” he offered, his lips tilting into a smile, teasing her.

  “Maybe not quite the word I was looking for, but something like that,” she conceded. She didn't think Rob was out to help his friend along on that front—she was pretty sure Ian didn't need any help on that front—but something between a one-night stand and marriage was more likely.

  “Maybe.”

  She thought about asking him why her, or why not someone else, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

  “Okay, just, uh, checking,” she said instead and made a beeline for the stairs. She hadn't missed how attractive Ian was. And she'd sensed his awareness of her, in a subtle, tentative sort of way, like he was testing out the interest—on both of them. But she hadn't let her mind go any further than an almost clinical analysis of the situation—interest noted, felt, and filed away. It was different now though, with Kathryn's conversation still hovering in her mind, followed by Rob's very male inquiry, and she knew it would be harder to ignore the whole thing. The next time she saw Ian, it—whatever ‘it’ was—would be lingering there on the fringes of her mind like a pesky bug, flittering in and out of her line of sight at random moments.

  She pushed the door to her room open a little harder than necessary then grabbed it to keep it from hitting the opposite wall. Setting all her stuff down, Vivi stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower. When she no longer smelled like a morgue, she dried off, slipped into a nightshirt, and propped her dinner tray on the bed. It was early, but she didn't feel like getting dressed in something else only to get undressed again in a few hours.

  Picking up her cell, Vivi dialed her Aunt Mary, who would, no doubt, want a minute-by-minute account of her morning excursion. And an hour later, she hung up with Mary and dialed her Uncle Michael.

  “Darling girl, is that you?”

  “You know it's me, Uncle Michael, you have caller ID,” she answered with a laugh. Uncle Mike, was one of her father's three brothers, all of whom had become cops. He'd married an Irish girl, back in the day, and so, while Vivi's dad was firmly rooted in the Italian community in Boston, Uncle Mike and his wife Nancy straddled the Irish-Italian divide.

  “What's doing, young lady? Are we going to see your gorgeous face here any time soon?”

  In response, Vivi gave him a brief overview of her situation. Not surprisingly, he was upset that she had landed herself in yet another murder investigation. But she could also tell he was pleased that she was no longer driving around the country alone with no rhyme or reason—that kind of spontaneity worried him. And, since it hadn't been in her character either until a month ago, she was pretty sure he might have given himself an ulcer over her little road trip.

  She gave him the rundown on the players, the victim, and the evidence. He mulled it over with her for a bit, tossing ideas back and forth, but since there was so little to go on at this point, the conversation was fairly short.

  “Well, if anyone can help bring that girl some peace, you can,” he offered in blind support of Vivi. “Your Aunt Nancy is grabbing the phone from me, now. I'll talk to you soon, Vivi. You keep in touch,” he added. There was a shuffle of the phone being handed around, then Nancy DeMarco's voice came on the line.

  “Luv, it is you!” her Aunt Nancy started. “I'm so glad you called. I just walked in the door, I was out shopping for Kiera's baby shower. It's a few days away and I'm leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow— any chance you will change your mind and come with me?” Kiera was Nancy and Mike's eldest daughter and only a year older than Vivi. Because they were the closest cousins in age, they'd been like sisters as long as Vivi could remember. But even so, Vivi couldn't bring herself to make the trip. Not now.

  “I'm in the middle of a case, Aunt Nancy. But even if I weren't, well…” her voice trailed off.

  Nancy sighed in understanding. “I know, dear. We all know.” She absolved Vivi with those few words. “We're all glad you're finally taking some time to yourself. Even though it sounds like maybe you aren't, right now.” Vivi opened her mouth to make excuses, but her aunt kept talking. “Vivi, dear, you do what you need to do. If it's work, work. If it's driving all over the world, then go ahead and do that, even if it gives your uncle an ulcer. The shower is a shower. Kiera knows you're thinking of her. Of course, if you don't come for the christening, that might be a bit of an issue, since you're the godmother.”

  “I'll be there,” Vivi promised. And she would. There was no way she was going to miss her goddaughter's christening.

  “I know you will.” The certainty in her aunt's voic
e was comforting. Vivi may be on a different path right now, but her family still considered her family—still expected her to be family, as well.

  “Well, I'll be letting you go. But you be careful. I ran into Mary today and, though she swears that Windsor is the most beautiful, peaceful place, obviously it isn't, since they've had a murder.”

  Vivi promised to be careful and to stay in touch, then hung up. She made a few more calls, and by the time she finished the last, it was late and she was tired. She called Rob, and he sent someone to pick up the dishes. Once that was out of the way, she brushed her teeth and climbed into bed, wondering just what she was getting herself into.

  * * *

  Vivi, feeling agitated by either her fitful night of sleep or, more likely, a guilty conscience about not going to Kiera's shower, decided to spend the next morning doing something ‘normal’—shopping for her cousin's baby. She had already sent a gift, but still, she wanted to do more. And after perusing the stores on Main Street, she hit the quilt shop, searching for something unique to send and hoping that Kiera wouldn't see it for what it was, a guilt offering.

  “Ah, Rebecca,” a woman called as she opened the door. “I was wondering when you might come in for your fabric. Oh wait, I beg your pardon.” The woman stopped short a few feet away from Vivi. “I took you for one of my regulars. I apologize.”

  Vivi smiled at the stylishly-dressed woman in her sixties. “No problem. They say everyone has their doppelgänger somewhere in the world.”

  “That they do. I'm Julie, the owner. Can I help you with something?” She stepped forward and they shook hands.

  “Hi Julie, I'm Vivienne. Do you have baby quilts?” Vivi looked around and didn't know where to let her eyes land. The shop was filled with fabric and rows and rows of shelves with everything from needles to books to thread. Even the walls were covered to the ceiling with folded, hanging quilts.

  “To make or to buy?”

  “Definitely buy.” Vivi turned back to Julie.

  The woman smiled at Vivi's self-deprecating comment. “On this wall here,” she said, pointing to a line of quilts hanging along the back wall. “Most are locally made. But we do carry a few from Amish friends I have. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?”

  Vivi answered that it was a girl and Julie spent the next several minutes walking her through some of the quilts that might fit what she was looking for. Finally she settled on a soft-colored quilt of green and lavender.

  “I assume you want this wrapped?” Julie asked as they headed for the counter.

  “Please,” Vivi answered, looking around the store. “Have you been here long?” she asked, making conversation as Julie went about taking care of her purchase.

  “Yes, nearly forty years.”

  “Wow. And have you always had this shop?”

  “More or less. I opened it about thirty-six years ago.”

  “That's impressive—to keep a small business going so long. Is it hard in a town of this size?”

  “It has its ups and downs to be sure. The fall is always a big season for us. We get a little bump at Christmas and on the weekends when all the folks come up to their weekend homes. Though I have a string of regulars that kind of smooth things out for me. Not every business is so lucky.”

  “Like Rebecca?” Vivi commented, her eyes still surveying the larger quilts hanging on the wall behind the counter.

  “She's sort of a regular. Lives up here in the wintertime. She's a costume designer in New York City and spends her winters up here doing her own projects.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It is if you don't mind the cold and snow.”

  “It must be hard for the other businesses that might depend more on the tourists? Is there a lot of turnover?”

  “About as much as you would expect,” Julie replied, turning back to the counter and placing the beautifully-wrapped quilt on the counter. “The jewelry store does reasonably well, the bakery does good business. The Tavern has been doing well for several years. But we used to have a chocolate shop, a few more cafes, and a local grocery store down here. Anything that is too overpriced for the locals doesn't last long. The weekenders’ money is good, but not usually good enough to sustain a business on its own.”

  “The bane of small-town economics, I suppose,” Vivi responded as she signed her credit card receipt.

  “You're not from around here?” It wasn't a real question but Vivi answered anyway.

  “No, Boston. But I travel a lot and spend a lot of time in small towns all over the country. I like them. I think it's kind of nice to know most of your neighbors.”

  “Whether you want to or not,” Julie added with a smile.

  “There is that,” Vivi conceded. “Now, if I want to mail this somewhere, I know I saw a post office.”

  “Go to the end of the street, turn left, and it will be on your right. I don't have a large selection of cards, but if you want a great baby shower card, Madelyn across the street has some fun ones.”

  Vivi thanked the woman and, taking her advice, jogged across the street and bought a card to send with the quilt. Once that errand was complete, she headed to the post office and sent off the entire package. Realizing how close she was to the police station, she opted to stop by rather than call Ian to check on her clearance.

  “Officer Granger,” she said, walking into the main office.

  “Dr. DeMarco,” he answered, standing as she walked toward him. He was young, probably not even twenty-five, and his tall, gangly body hadn't come anywhere close to filling out yet. Still, his soft brown eyes were kind and inquisitive, and his eager but sweet demeanor made him easy to like on sight.

  “How are you today?” he asked.

  “Well, thank you. Is Deputy Chief MacAllister in?” she asked, reverting to his title in his workplace.

  “I'm in here, and call me Ian, everyone does,” came a voice to her right. Officer Granger made a motion to a door that was open a crack. She walked over and peered in.

  “Is this a good time?” she asked. He looked up from his paperwork and she was caught again by the color of his eyes.

  “You're our Hail Mary on this murder, any time is a good time for you,” he answered.

  “I was out running some errands,” she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “Met two very helpful shopkeepers, by the way,” she said as an aside. “And I was walking through town so figured I would stop by and check to make sure you have what you need from Kathryn before I head down to Riverside?”

  “I do, thanks for checking. You're good to go. What errands did you run?” he asked, closing a case file on his desk.

  She must have given him a funny look because, really, it was an odd question.

  “There's not a lot of shopping to do in town. Call me curious,” he shrugged. She took a few more steps into the room and stopped next to the chair in front of his desk.

  “Or call you an investigator,” she suggested with a lopsided smile. “One of my cousins is having a baby, and the shower is next weekend. I'm going to be the godmother but can't make the shower, so I popped into Julie's quilt shop and picked something up to send,” she explained.

  “Glad you found something and sorry you can't make the shower. It's not this case is it?” Ian sounded concerned and, again, she was struck by how novel it was to work with someone who seemed to care about her, not just her skills.

  She shook her head and took a seat. “No, it's a long story I don't want to get into, but I wasn't going to attend anyway. The only thing this case is taking me from is a random journey through the Finger Lakes.”

  “Well, glad to hear it. Are you headed down to Riverside now?”

  She nodded. “Any hits from the missing persons database?”

  He shook his head. “I'm not sure they're running the picture you came up with yesterday through everything they could be running it through. Backlogs, all the time. Anyway, I have a couple of things I need to do this afternoon, and then
I'll meet you down at the hospital. Once you're done, there's a good Mexican restaurant in town. We can pop over there and you can fill me in.”

  Vivi frowned. He wasn't exactly asking her on a date. In fact he wasn't asking her anything. For a moment, she thought to protest but then realized how petty that would be. She did need to eat.

  “Fine, sounds good. Although I may be a while. Why don't you come around six-ish?” she suggested, rising from the chair.

  He nodded and stood, following her lead. “Be careful,” he said as she headed toward the door.

  His concern reminded her. “Thanks for calling Rob last night,” she said, turning back. “It was nice to have dinner waiting.” Ian shrugged in response but said nothing. She studied him for a moment, acknowledging to herself that the man before her was probably more complex than the average male. And she found that interesting. More interesting than a professional colleague should.

  “I'll see you at six,” she reaffirmed before turning and walking away.

  * * *

  Ian paused at the door to the morgue and watched Vivienne through the small window. She sat, very still, on a stool beside the table that held the bones of their Jane Doe. Vivienne's hands were folded in her lap and she looked to be lost in thought as she gazed at the skeleton. Something about her stillness bothered Ian. He didn't believe in ghosts, but watching Vivienne, it was almost as if she was in deep conversation with someone, if only herself.