Chapter 11

I was sitting behind my desk in my office, talking to Simone and Hunter about the previous day’s events. I shared the big reveal—what Cora had said about her classmates bullying Xander. We discussed that somber news for a while, and then I explained the agreement I’d made with Whitlock and Harvey about teaming up on the case.

When I finished, Simone jumped right in, saying, “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me either,” Hunter said.

“We’ve worked with Whitlock on cases before,” I said. “Seems like we never work homicide cases these days without the police department being involved somehow. Which makes sense, as much as I hate it.”

“And here I thought because it’s a cold case, we’d be working this one alone,” Simone said. “I see your point though. They were the original detectives on the case.”

“Including them isn’t a bad idea,” Hunter added. “I bet Harvey’s excited to be back in the game after his retirement a couple of years ago.”

All morning I’d wondered if he’d spoken to my mother yet. If so, I wondered how she’d reacted about his interest in putting his detective hat back on for one last investigation.

“Let’s talk about today’s agenda,” I said. “Hunter, have you had any luck locating Danny Donovan?”

She reached into her bag, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to me. “It wasn’t easy, but I found him. He’s still in the area, living in a mobile home park in San Simeon.”

San Simeon was fifteen minutes from Cambria, which was good news.

I slid Danny’s address into my handbag and said, “I’ll see if I can speak to him after we finish up here. Then I’ll head out to Cora’s grandmother’s cabin. I was told they haven’t been there since the murders.”

“I’ll see what I can find on Xander while you’re gone,” Hunter said.

“And I’ll be speaking with the victims’ families,” Simone said.

The agency’s front door opened, and in walked a woman I wasn’t sure I was ready to see this early in the morning.

“Yoo-hoo, Georgiana, are you here?”

“I’m in my office, Mom.”

Simone leaned toward me and whispered, “Ehh, I’m thinking we should go, leave you to talk to your mother alone.”

I shot Simone a wink and said, “Abandon me if you must.”

Hunter and Simone wasted no time exiting my office, and my mother sauntered in. She closed the door behind her, set a plate of quiche covered in plastic wrap on my desk, and plopped down on a chair in front of me.

“I see you’re out and about early today,” I said. “Thanks for the quiche.”

“You have a big case ahead of you. I figured you’d enjoy a few slices of one of your favorite breakfast dishes.”

We stared at each other for a moment, and I contemplated what to say next.

I assumed Harvey had spoken to her, and that was the real reason she’d stopped by my office unannounced.

“How’s your morning been going?” I asked.

My mother raised a brow. “As if you don’t know.”

“I’m guessing you and Harvey have talked.”

She brushed a few crumbs off her shirtsleeve. “Yes, dear. I know all about his desire to be involved in the case.”

“And?”

My mother clasped her hands together, setting them on her lap as she said, “I believe we’ve come to an arrangement.”

I was almost afraid to ask.

“What kind of arrangement?”

“One where I tag along.”

Tag along?

She can’t mean …

“You’re not saying you’re going to tag along with me, are you?” I asked.

As soon as I’d blurted out the words, I realized my approach could have been much more genteel.

Too late now.

My mother swished a hand through the air. “Heaven’s no, child. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would tag along with you in a heartbeat. Think of the fun we’d have. Mother and daughter, sleuthing together, catching the bad guy. I know you though, and I know you’d never allow it.”

The disappointment on her face was loud and clear, but she was right. Having her along wouldn’t be a good idea.

“When you say you’re going to tag along, what do you mean?”

“Harvey made a strong case in favor of him assisting with this case, and I understand what it means to him. After all, it was his case. Including him is the right thing to do.”

“I agree.”

“Would you also agree that stressful situations take a toll on him?”

“I would.”

“I can’t bear to see him have another heart attack. His first one was … well, scary. I have no interest in a repeat, and I said as much to Whitlock this morning.”

“What did Whitlock have to say?”

“He asked if we could come to a compromise. We both gave it some thought, and Whitlock asked how I would feel about tagging along here and there whenever they were doing anything Whitlock thought might be harder on Harvey than he’d care to admit.”

The thought of three senior citizens parading around town, trying to solve a twenty-year-old murder spree was part comical and part concerning. I had enough on my mind without worrying over what would happen if they found themselves in a dangerous predicament. But as I thought about how annoyed I felt when my mom fussed about my safety during my casework, I knew I was doing the exact same thing to her right now. It wasn’t fair. If I could do it, so could she. The three of them together were the toughest senior citizen trio I knew. But I’d keep that to myself for now.

“I’m waiting,” my mother said.

“For what?”

“For you to say something. I’m sure you have an opinion about my proposal. I can see it on your face. You don’t like the idea, do you?”

“I need to give it some thought before sharing my opinion.”

“We’ll be fine. I’m still going to the shooting range from time to time. And I’m happy to report I’m the best in my class, or so I’ve been told.”

I clasped my hands together, resting them on top of my desk. “Does Foley know about all of this?”

“He will. He’s my next stop.”

“What if he doesn’t like the idea?”

“Doesn’t like it? He’s engaged to your sister, due to marry her next month. Do you think he has the nerve to say no to me, given I’m his future mother-in-law? I should say not.”

“It sounds like you have everything all figured out.”

“Yes, yes. It’s well in hand.” She pushed herself out of the chair. “Anyhoo, I just wanted to stop in and say how excited I am to be working together.”

“But we’re not …”

I considered finishing the sentence and stopped myself.

“We’re not what, dear?” my mother asked, eyebrow raised so high it just about disappeared into her hairline.

“Thanks again for the quiche. Let me know how it goes with Foley.”

My mother stood, shaking her head as she walked out the door, saying, “No need. I’m sure it will all go as expected. I’ll leave you now. Back to work … toodaloo!”