“Oh.” What had she done with—There they were. She fished a sandwich bag from a box. “Here.”
“Excellent.” Looking satisfied, he dropped the jewelry in and zipped the top closed. “I need to give you a receipt for all of this.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care.”
“Not optional. I’ll have to get one out of the car.”
Beth followed him out, turning off the light and locking up as she went. At his unmarked police car, he rummaged in the glove compartment and produced a pad of carbon copy receipts. He took only a moment to scrawl in her name, his, the date and the items he was taking, then rip off the top copy for her.
“Why don’t we make it two o’clock?” he said.
She shrugged. “Sure. Although, you know, I could finish going through the stuff along that wall. It all seems to have been there forever.”
Tony shook his head. “I need to be there.”
Because she could hide something that might point a finger at her father. Wow. He’d been right—kissing had been a really bad idea. Trust seemed like a bare minimum before she locked lips with a guy.
“I don’t like that expression, either. I wasn’t suggesting—”
“You were, but I understand.” Clutching the slip of paper, she stepped back. “Goodbye, Detective Navarro.”
He looked frustrated and slammed the car door. She’d pulled out her keys and reached her own car by the time he pulled away from the curb.
If Dad had been here, she’d have felt obligated to go in and make lunch for him, but as it was, she’d eat out. Somewhere Tony Navarro would never think of going.
And fat butt or not, she wasn’t having a salad.
In the spirit of defiance, she decided on a drippy chicken teriyaki sandwich. As soon as she’d ordered at the café, she called Matt, but he didn’t answer. Her news didn’t seem like the kind of thing that should be left on voice mail, she decided. This evening was soon enough.
Emily answered right away. “I am so bored. My appointment didn’t show. But I have to stick around because I have a two o’clock.”
“I’m glad I caught you.” Beth hesitated, but her sister and brother had a right to hear this. “I…that is, Detective Navarro and I found a couple of things in the boxes of Mom’s stuff.”
“Like what?” Of course, Emily was intrigued.
“A pair of earrings and a necklace that look expensive. I think they might be real diamonds.”
“Really? You never wear jewelry, so can I—”
Beth unclenched her jaw. “You’re missing the point. I don’t remember ever seeing these before. Where did she get them?”
“The only diamond I remember was her engagement ring.”
“It gets worse. We also found a drawing of Mom naked.”
“Mom?”
“It’s obvious she was having an affair.” Beth felt brutal saying this. Of all of them, Emily clung mostly closely to the memory of their mother. “And that her lover was also an artist.”
“Mom?” Emily said again, sounding lost this time.
“It’s definitely Mom, who obviously posed for the, um, portrait.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Unfortunately, it did. “Somebody killed Mom, and I know it wasn’t Dad. Who do you think did it?”
Silence.
“I feel like I recognize the artist’s work. As if somewhere I saw something else he drew. Do you remember anyone we knew who did pencil sketches? Really good ones?”
“No! And what makes you think Mom posed? This guy could have imagined what she looked like.”
“Did he imagine the scar from her C-section?”
“I can’t talk to you anymore!” her sister cried.
Her phone disconnected, Beth slowly set it down just as her lunch arrived. Typical Emily, who had to be force-fed any dose of harsh reality. Producing a smile for the waitress, Beth draped the napkin on her lap, then looked at the heap of fries and the—yes—drippy sandwich. She should have gone for a salad after all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE FACT THAT he’d been stupid enough to kiss her—and then had to stop—would have given Tony plenty of brooding material. The argument that followed made him sick. Lunch held no appeal.