“Great.” She cupped her mouth and yelled toward the dressing rooms, “I call gold!”
A chorus of okays came back to us. I smiled and searched in my purse for my phone, coming up empty-handed. “Ugh. I’ll be right back.”
When I stepped out of the boutique, Frankie was nowhere to be found. In my experience, just because I couldn’t see him didn’t mean he wasn’t there.
After digging around, I found my phone wedged between the seat and door because things can’t ever be easy.
“Need a hand?”
Startled, I jumped, bashing my head on the dashboard. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I stood, rubbing the sore spot and glaring at Detective Bennington.
“Now, now, Ms. Mitchell. That’s no way to talk to an officer of the law.”
I closed the door and locked it. Taking a step onto the sidewalk, I scanned the street for Frankie. “You’re right. What I meant was, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
The sleazy bastard smirked and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I assume you heard about the fire?”
I looked anywhere but at the douche in front of me. My phone lit up. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Frankie or Luca but Beth. Again.
“You want to know what I think?”
I gave him a blank stare.
“I think Luca was keeping Zoe Chronis a secret in their little forest love nest. He went down there for a romantic weekend and caught his cousin messing around with her.”
Stupid. The dude was stupid.
“In a jealous rage, he kills them and realizes he needs to cover his tracks. Am I close?”
I rolled my eyes and caught sight of Frankie making his way to us. Finally.
Bennington smiled, dipping his chin. “Once we get confirmation on the blood and they finish searching what’s left of the cabin, you might need to postpone that big wedding you're planning.”
Frankie silently grabbed my elbow and ushered me back to the dress shop.
“Where were you?” I hissed.
He waited until we were across the street from the cop before he said, “Waiting for the douche to make his move.”
“Excuse me?”
Frankie brought us to a stop outside the shop. His eyes stayed on Detective Bennington as he asked, “What did he say?”
“Some bullshit about Luca killing Zoe and Tootsie in a fit of jealousy and then torching the cabin to cover his tracks. He said once the blood is IDed, I’ll need to postpone the wedding.”
Frankie’s jaw tensed, and I followed his line of sight. Bennington waved and then sauntered away, completely unbothered. I swear to God—the motherfucker was whistling.
“Is Luca going to be charged with their deaths? What proof could they even have?”
“None. He’d be in custody if they had anything. There’s no proof of foul play. Hell, Luca has an alibi for the night of the fire.”
“Has the fire department submitted the incident report yet?”
Frankie’s body relaxed. “Not yet.”
“Well?”
One side of his mouth kicked up, and he gestured toward the door. “Let’s just say the incident report will go our way.”