Chapter 22

22

S oft sunlight filtered through the uncovered window and fell across Jenna's face. Memories of a night spent in Calvin's arms lifted her lips. She'd wanted nothing more than to wake up beside him this morning, but she'd tiptoed back into her room once Calvin had drifted to sleep to be close to Oliver.

Lifting her arms high, she stretched her lax muscles, and glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

Alarm set her on her feet, anxiety heightening when Oliver was nowhere to be found. At nine a.m., Oliver should have wakened hours ago. She hurried to the portable crib and found a note instead of her baby.

Little man and I are hanging out downstairs.

Calvin

Warm tingles of joy exploded in the pit of her stomach. Last night had been filled with sweet kisses and reawakened passions, but this gesture created a deeper emotion than she'd ever experienced. Created a sense of love and longing she would do everything in her power to keep.

She took a few extra minutes to run a comb through her hair and dress before heading downstairs to find her two favorite guys.

The salty smell of bacon guided her into the kitchen. Calvin glanced over his shoulder and grinned as she stepped into the room. "Morning. My best buddy and I thought we'd let you sleep in a little. How ya feeling?"

The twinkle in his eyes made her giddy and told her he knew exactly how she felt—satisfied and filled with hope. Promises hadn't been made, but that would come. She was sure of it.

A slight limp slowed her pace as she grinned at Calvin on her way to the table. She ran a hand over Oliver's head and dipped her chin at Mrs. Collins, who hid a sly smile behind her steaming mug of coffee.

"Glad you got some rest," Mrs. Collins said, amusement lifting her words.

Heat crashed against her cheeks.

"Sit," Calvin said. "I'll bring you some coffee."

She settled into the chair beside Oliver, who happily plucked up cereal and shoved the pieces in his mouth. "I haven't slept past seven a.m. since Oliver was born. I could get used to waking late and being served coffee and bacon."

Calvin placed a mug in front of her and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "That's the plan."

Her toes curled. She'd assumed if they decided to give their relationship another shot, they'd take things slow. Start with a few dinners or ice cream out with Oliver. Jumping in too quick could be confusing for her little boy, especially if things didn't work.

But spending time in his bed had changed everything. Feelings that had lain dormant for years were rekindled, reminding her of all the reasons she'd fallen in love with Calvin the first time. And now that the floodgates were open, there was no turning back.

As long as Calvin was on the same page.

Mrs. Collins chuckled. "You're not the only one who could get used to this. A handsome man cookin' in my kitchen, taking work off my shoulders, sounds all right to me."

Jenna tapped her mug against Mrs. Collins and grinned. "Amen."

The swinging door from the foyer opened and Elsie swept into the kitchen with garment bags draped over her arm. "We saying our prayers this morning?"

Calvin brought a plate heaped high with crispy bacon to the table then took the chair on the other side of Oliver. "Nah, most of my prayers were answered last night. What about you, Jenna?"

Grinning, Jenna picked up a piece of bacon and threw it at him.

Elsie laid the black bag on the island and fisted a hand on her hip. "I think I'm missing something."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "I'll fill you in later. Are you bringing in more donations?"

"I found some great interview outfits at the store. Thought they'd be a good fit here. I sewed on some new buttons and worked on some ripped hems. Now they're just like new."

Mrs. Collins clapped her hands together and held them under her chin. "Wonderful! Elsie, you've done such a fabulous job making the women who stay here feel special."

Elsie shrugged. "I still have some work to do on the room. I want to make it feel like a little boutique. Give the women a fun experience when looking for clothes and other necessities. I have a bit of time this morning so thought I'd bring over some things. I have decorations and trinkets to jazz up some displays."

Jenna grabbed another piece of the salty breakfast meat, eating it this time instead of tossing it across the table. "I can help you. It'll be nice to take my mind off my troubles for a while."

"That's a good idea." Calvin shifted in his chair and tapped his index finger against the table, a nervous tick that set her on edge.

Hooking a brow, she pinned him with her stare. "What aren't you telling me?"

He scratched his already messy hair. "Milo Sholl's wife responded to my message and is willing to meet me this morning."

"Okay. We'll do that first then I can help Elsie. She can always give me instructions if she can't stick around."

Calvin winced. "I think you should stay here with Oliver. You've been through hell and need to take it easy. I can ask my questions then get back quickly. No need for you to come."

His response was like a bucket of icy water. She'd awakened this morning on a cloud of hope and an idea that they were on the same page. After days of being inseparable, he wanted to take the next steps alone.

Without her.

Maybe she'd been an idiot to think last night had meant the same thing to Calvin as it had to her. She should have insisted they actually talk about their future instead of just falling into bed with him. What had she been thinking?

She hadn't been thinking. She'd acted on impulse and emotions, not logic and common sense.

Standing, she gave one nod and scooped Oliver from his seat. "Fine. Good luck. Elsie, let me get Oliver changed then I'll meet you in the store."

She ignored Calvin's confused stare as she lifted her chin and walked out of the room.

The smell of fresh coffee and warm cinnamon rolls made Calvin's mouth water. The late-morning rush had The Brewhouse packed with people looking for a little pick-me-up to get them through the rest of their day. The line wrapped around the edge of the room, stopping in front of floor-to-ceiling shelves that housed books for customers to read and products for sale.

Calvin picked up his phone and checked the message Debbie Sholl had sent through Facebook in the middle of the night. He had the time and the place right, but still no Debbie.

A tug of guilt yanked on his conscience. The day had started perfect, but Jenna had been stiff and cold as soon as he'd mentioned his meeting with Mrs. Sholl. He wanted to give Jenna a break, not drag her all over town for a quick chat. He thought she'd be thrilled to have time to relax with Oliver, but he'd been wrong. She hadn't given him much of an opportunity to explain before he left, but as soon as he spoke with Debbie, he'd make everything right.

If Debbie actually showed.

Lifting his still-hot cup, he took a sip of the bitter latte. The constant chugging of the expresso machine filled the space, blocking out the noise of the lingering customers. Sighing, he rubbed the tip of his finger along the plastic lid. Waiting wasn't his strong suit.

He'd taken a shot in the dark when he'd reached out to Debbie a couple nights ago via Facebook, and the waiting message from her this morning had been far from expected. If the woman was willing to speak about her husband, Calvin would listen to every single word.

The bell above the door rang, announcing a new customer. The dark hair pulled into a severe ponytail and chocolate brown eyes matched the pictures Calvin had found of Debbie online. This could be the conversation that led to a killer. He hadn't found anything on the sketchy lawyer, but his intuition screamed the man was up to no good.

Pasting a smile on his face, he rose from the round table with a small wave aimed at Debbie.

Debbie's skittish gaze darted around the room before landing on him. She dropped her chin and made her way toward the table, sinking into the chair.

"Hi, I'm Calvin. Thank you so much for agreeing to meet me like this." He settled into the cushioned chair and curled a palm around his cup.

A small smile tugged at Debbie's full lips. "I shouldn't be here, but…" she lifted her hands then dropped them to her lap.

Calvin gestured to his paper cup. "Did you want to grab something to drink?"

"No. I'm okay."

Questions spun in his mind. He took a sip of hot coffee, figuring out the best way to approach the conversation. "I'm sure responding to me wasn't an easy decision."

Debbie wrung her hands on the edge of the table. "I can't stay long. If Milo knew I was here, he'd be very upset."

The memory of Milo's reaction to Jenna raised the hair on the back of his neck. "Does he get upset often?"

Debbie shrugged. "He's a good man."

Calvin took a deep breath, biting his tongue so as not to add his two cents on whether Milo Sholl was a good man. But his gut tingled, and he needed to know what led Debbie to take this step to talk to him. Something told him it had more to do with Debbie's fear of her husband than anything else. "Has he ever hit you?"

Debbie bit into her bottom lip. "He has a temper, but he'd never hurt me. Or the kids. We have some cracks in our marriage, but we're committed to getting to a better place." The slight shake of her voice told him she wasn't being completely honest.

Calvin tilted his head, studying Debbie's timid expression. Did she know her husband cheated on her? "What kind of cracks?"

"Why would you ask that?" Something flashed in her eyes—fear? Sorrow? "I don't even know you. I still don't understand why it was so important that you talk to me."

"Did your husband ever talk to you about Stella Ryan?"

Debbie furrowed her brow. "The woman who cleaned his office?"

"Yes." He kept his expression passive, not wanting to alarm Debbie.

"He mentioned knowing her after we heard about her death. Other than that, he never said her name to me. Why would he? And why would you care? You said in your message you were looking for answers. What exactly are you trying to find?" She kept her voice low and darted her gaze around the crowded space, as if afraid of being seen.

"I'm looking for the person who murdered Stella."

Debbie reared back her head as if she'd been slapped. "And you think it could be Milo?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm investigating all angles right now. One of those angles is the time she spent at work. She cleaned your husband's law office most evenings this year. If he worked while she cleaned, they would have spent a lot of time together. Does your husband spend a lot of evenings in the office?"

"He claims to, but he wouldn't spend time with ‘the help'." Air quotes separated out the last words.

"Why do you think him working late is only a claim?"

"I know what he's been doing with his free time." Tears filled Debbie's eyes, but she hiked her chin. "You think my husband is capable of murder because he's a cheat?"

Calvin's pulse spiked. "You know he's cheating on you?"

Debbie snorted. "Of course I do. He's not as smart as he thinks. Like I said, our marriage has some cracks. But Stella Ryan wasn't the woman he was seeing behind my back."

"How can you be sure?"

"Unless she came back from the dead and I caught her screwing my husband a few days ago, Milo isn't seeing Stella."

Calvin cringed. "I'm so sorry." He didn't want to mention it was possible Milo was seeing more than one woman outside of his marriage. Stella could have threatened to expose their affair, and if Milo was supporting Stella financially and stopped, maybe Stella resorted to blackmail to keep the monthly deposits in her account.

Debbie sighed and ran a shaking hand over her ponytail. "We talked. He says he'll do whatever it takes to fix our problems. He won't be running for office. We're moving. Starting fresh where we can focus on each other and our children. He promises he won't ever hurt me again."

Dread dropped like a boulder in his gut. Purple-colored flesh peeked through smeared-on foundation. Milo might have promised not to cheat on his wife anymore, but would he hit her again? Calvin slid a card across the table and stared Debbie straight in the eyes. "If he hurts you again, call me. Any time. I'll help. I promise."

Swallowing hard, Debbie pocketed the card then rose to her feet.

"I have one more question." He stood, needing to make absolute certain Milo could be crossed off his suspect list.

"What?" Defeated eyes held his gaze.

"Has there been anything off with your finances this year? Monthly payments going out that you aren't sure what they're for?"

Debbie let out a humorless laugh. "Trust me, Milo is crazy about keeping our finances on track. Everything's in a spreadsheet, our budget kept to the cent."

He bit back a sigh. "Thank you again for meeting me. Good luck with the move. I hope everything works out the way you want."

"Me too. Family is the most important thing." Debbie turned and hurried out the door.

Calvin stared after her. His gut told him if Debbie was being honest, Milo wasn't the person responsible for killing Stella. He still wanted to check into his finances to be sure, but chances were whoever killed Stella was the same person leaving mysterious deposits in her checking account. Which left him at square one.