Page 40

Chapter 39

ELEVEN YEARS IN HIDING

“Got us some popcorn,” I said, sitting beside Eden on our soft leather couch. My wife, always one for deeper descriptions, said it was the color of cocoa after the marshmallows had melted. Yeah. I called it brown.

Her eyes flicked to the television mounted on the opposite wall and then back to me. “I think this prosecutor is really sharp, don’t you?”

I could tell by her tone she needed my reassurance. “Her opening statement was excellent yesterday. She did a good job of laying out the case.” The case being the murder of Martin Love by my father, Luca Cappitani. “The jurors seemed to like her.”

Twisting the lids from two bottles of Dr Pepper, I handed one to Eden as the much-publicized trial resumed on the screen. Popcorn and soda may not be the most nutritious breakfast in the world, but I was fully in the fuck it zone this morning.

Our attention was glued to the TV while New York prosecutor Leana Wallace went through the forensic evidence with one of the witnesses. Leana was dark-skinned with a pin-straight black bob that hit just at her chin. Her dark-teal suit was perfectly cut, and she exuded confidence and professionalism with every question.

When she was done, one of Luca’s attorneys, Tony Russo, cross-examined the witness, making sure to drive home the point that there was no ballistic evidence tying the three bullets found in the victim’s head to Luca Cappitani.

“No shit. He disposed of the gun,” I mumbled, stuffing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. “It’s at the bottom of a very deep body of water.”

Beside me, Eden nodded as she nibbled on a single kernel of popcorn. “The key is the eyewitness,” she said, more to herself than me.

The next person called to the stand was the medical examiner, and that took up the rest of the morning before the judge called for a lunch break and announced that the trial would resume in the afternoon.

“Going good so far,” I soothed, wrapping an arm around my wife and kissing her temple. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” she told me a second before her stomach contradicted her with a long growl. “Okay, maybe I should try to eat a little something.”

“Go sit on the lanai. We can eat out there.” Though Eden no longer had nightmares, being outdoors still seemed to calm her. I was fully aware of why she was nervous. Our entire future depended on the outcome of this trial.

She nodded and rubbed the turtle charm on her necklace between her thumb and forefinger, an almost absent gesture she did when she was deep in thought. “Okay, sounds good.”

Once I’d whipped up a couple warm ham and cheese sandwiches, I grabbed a big bag of Lay’s potato chips and brought everything out to the lanai where Eden was scrolling through her phone. She already seemed more relaxed in the May sunshine.

“The first thing I’m going to do when I get back to New York is have a chat with my oldest brother about the company he keeps. Look at this.” She turned her phone around so I could see the Facebook picture of Auburn and a platinum blonde with huge breasts. “Her name is Magdalena. What does he see in her?”

“Big knockers,” I muttered around a mouthful of sandwich. If the narrowing of my wife’s eyes was any indication, that was the wrong thing to say, so I quickly backtracked. “I mean, not that I’m into all that. Don’t want to sprain a hand.”

She giggled and nudged my knee beneath the table. “I see your point. She is pretty, but she’s looking at him like he’s her own personal bank account.”

Avoiding looking at the picture again—because I valued my testicles—I said, “Probably won’t go anywhere. Auburn’s too smart to marry some floozy. He’s bound to get a lot more attention now that your dad is retired and Auburn is the CEO at Bouvier. ”

“Yeah,” Eden said, and I was happy to see that she was distracted enough to begin eating. “Monty finally got a Facebook, but it’s set on private so I can’t see any of his stuff. Auburn did post this picture recently though.” She turned the phone around again so I could see her younger brother in a police uniform. We’d learned years ago that Monty was an officer in a small town near Miami. I knew it was hard on my wife to realize her brother was so close and yet she couldn’t see him.

“All three of you look so much alike, especially with your hair dyed dark like that. Of course, you’re much more gorgeous,” I told her, leaning over to kiss her temple.

A pretty rosy color bloomed on her cheeks, and I loved that I could still make my wife blush after over a decade. Then she turned her attention back to the phone, staring longingly at her brother.

“Do you think he’ll move back to New York once I return?”

Fuck, she made my heart ache with her hopefulness. I only hoped it wasn’t misplaced. It would be up to the prosecutor and ultimately, the jury.

“I hope so, baby.” I reached for a chip, crunching the salty snack before peering at the time on my own phone. “Ten more minutes till the trial resumes.”

Eden stood and gathered our plates and the bag of chips. “I’m going inside. I have to use the restroom before it gets started.”

“Meet you in there,” I said. Once she was gone, I stared at the crystal-blue water of our pool and prayed to the trial gods to do their thing.

The suspense in the courtroom was palpable, even through the TV screen, as the prosecution’s main witness took the stand. Nita Malone was short with a full figure and strawberry-blonde hair. Through the questioning, we learned she was a twenty-four-year-old single mom and worked as a waitress at a restaurant adjacent to the alley where the murder had taken place.

Once all the preliminary questions were done, Leana Wallace stood behind a podium and smiled at her witness. “Nita, can you lead me through the events of the night in question, please?”

The young woman shifted in her seat and nodded, her hand fluttering up to fiddle with the long braid hanging over one shoulder. Eden inched closer to me, and I reached for her hand. I needed the comfort as much as she did. This was a pivotal moment in our future.

“I was, um, taking out the trash after the restaurant closed,” Nita started. “I went out the back door to the alley, and that’s when I heard voices.”

She paused, her eyes darting around the room, and Leana gave her an encouraging nod. “Could you see who was talking?”

Nita pulled her gaze back to the prosecutor. “They were yelling, actually. I was scared.” She wrapped two fingers around her braid. “There was a car parked in the alley. It was dark colored, but that’s all I could tell.”

“How many people did you see?” Leana asked gently.

“There was one man in the car… in the driver’s seat, but it was dark, so I couldn’t make him out. Just, like, his silhouette, you know?” She rolled her lips inward, obviously nervous. “I saw two other men standing outside of the car, and one of them had a gun. I didn’t want them to see me, so I hid behind the dumpster.”

Leana did her best to keep her voice measured, though it was obvious we were getting to the meat of the trial. “Could you see the two men well?”

Nita nodded before apparently remembering she was supposed to answer orally. “Yes. They were standing in the beams of the headlights. The one not holding the gun was Martin Love.” Her smile was tremulous as she shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t know his name then, of course. I learned it later. He was medium height, not tall but not as short as me either. Mostly I noticed his mustache. It was really bushy.”

A titter went up around the courtroom. The victim had indeed sported a very impressive mustache.

“And the other man?” Leana prompted. The witness’s eyes moved to her right and seemed to be frozen there. “Nita, what did the man with the gun look like?”

Nita’s eyes popped back to the prosecutor and then dropped to the floor, as if she were praying. Then her attention flicked to the right again before she inhaled a long breath. “The other man was very tall and very thin. Blond and pale, almost like one of those, um, albinos.”

Eden and I both gasped as murmurs went up around the courtroom. Nita’s description was the exact opposite of Luca Cappitani, who was olive-skinned and portly with black hair. The judge banged his gavel twice and ordered everyone to be quiet.

Leana Wallace was standing with her mouth agape, but she quickly recovered, stepping around to the front of the podium to put her a little closer to the woman on the stand. She straightened her suit jacket and drew her eyebrows together, eyes focused like lasers on the witness.

“Okay, Nita. Maybe you’re confused about which night we’re talking about. It was April eighth, three years ago. Do you remember that night?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like you to tell me what the man in the alley— the one holding the gun —looked like.”

Nita’s green eyes were as round full moons, and my heart sank, knowing what she was going to say next. “He was skinny and tall and pale,” she repeated. “I, um, that’s what he looked like… the man who shot Martin.”

A muscle twitched in Leana’s jaw as her case fell down around her head. “Nita, that’s not the description you gave to me before. You said the man who shot Martin Love had dark hair and was fat. Those were your exact words.” Her tone was sharp and accusatory. “You specifically identified Luca Cappitani. Why are you changing your story all of a sudden?”

The defense attorney objected, and the judge sustained it, but I could barely hear the words because my attention turned to my wife, who was looking up at me, horror filling her blue eyes.

“Dane, what just happened?”

“Luca fucking happened.” I pulled her onto my lap and wrapped my arms around her. “The fucker got to the witness. Probably threatened her kid or something.”

The voices from the television raised in volume, and it grated on my nerves, so I hit the mute button on the remote, drenching our living room in silence. Eden curled against me, and I smoothed her hair away from her face, surveying her dry eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Eden contemplated that for a moment before speaking. “I don’t know. I think I knew deep down something would go wrong.” She scrunched her eyes shut and huffed out a gust of air. “I’m pissed that witness straight up lied, but I guess that would make me a hypocrite.”

I rubbed her shoulder. “What do you mean, baby?”

She pointed a finger at the silent screen. “Nita lied because she was scared. And isn’t that the same fucking thing I’ve been doing for eleven years? I’ve changed my hair and my name. I wear colored contacts every damn day. Hell, I’m pretending to be married.” Her voice rose. “And why? Because I was scared your father was going to hurt my family.”

Your father. While it was technically true, she never referred to him like that.

Her words were sharp as a jellyfish sting, and I dropped my head, shame coursing through me. “I’m sorry,” I breathed, and her arms instantly circled my neck.

“Shit. No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Eden nuzzled her face into my neck. “I would never have found my soulmate if things hadn’t worked out like they did.”

I inhaled the fruitiness of her shampoo and the honey scent of her skin as we held each other. “I hate being associated with him.”

Her hand stroked softly through my hair. “I know. I’m sorry I said that.” She pulled back and pressed her lips softly to mine. “I love you, Dane, and I wouldn’t give up a second of what we have together.”

“I love you too, Eden.”

“You still choose me even when I get bitchy?”

“Always. In the light and in the darkness. I guess today is an example of the latter.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “And you weren’t bitchy. You were just upset and disappointed.”

Her lips pressed together, and I saw the slight trembling of her chin. “Maybe they can talk to the witness and…” The words trailed off because we both knew that was unlikely. “I think I want to take Juliette’s newest book and sit on the beach for a while. I need some literary escape.”

“Do you want me to come with you? I can be quiet so you can read.”

She dragged her knuckles down my cheek. “Would it be okay if I go by myself?”

No, I want to cling to you like white on rice. Instead of voicing that, I smiled. “Of course. Take your phone with you and call if you need me. I can be there in a couple minutes.”

Eden stood and picked up her phone and the paperback from the coffee table before bending to press a kiss to my lips. “Thank you for loving me, Mr. Osbourne.”

“It’s my greatest honor, Mrs. Osbourne,” I returned, standing and following her into the kitchen. I watched through the glass door as she snagged a beach blanket from a shelf on the lanai and headed toward the back gate. I gave her five minutes before following her to the beach.

My eyes found her immediately from my hiding place behind a small building. She was facing away from me, on her stomach, feet kicked up behind her. A vibration in my pocket notified me of an incoming text message, and I pulled it out to check the screen.

Eden: Stop lurking, Dracula. It’s creepy AF.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I tapped out a quick message.

Dane: Sorry, I was worried about you.

Eden: I’m fine. Go check on the bakery or something. Love you.

I looked up from my phone to see my wife’s head turned in my direction. She blew me a kiss, and I returned the gesture before reluctantly turning to head home. We’d both taken some vacation time from work to watch the trial, though no one besides us knew the reason. I guessed it wouldn’t hurt to go check on my bakery.

Entering the back door, I was hit in the nostrils with the scents of sugar and chocolate. Barry looked up from the cake he was meticulously decorating.

“Hey, boss. Thought you were off this week.”

“I am. Just wanted to make sure everything is going okay.”

“All good back here, but I heard Maria yelling into the phone a few minutes ago.”

“I’ll check on her,” I assured him as he got back to work on the cake.

On my way to the front, I waved to a couple of the other employees we’d hired in the past few years as business had grown. Kevin, Barry’s best friend, no longer worked at Sweet Heaven. He’d gotten married two years ago and moved to Key West with his bride, though they stopped in for a visit every time they were headed to the mainland.

Maria, the sweet, quiet young student that used to work the register, had grown into one hell of a manager. I’d taken a chance on her, and it had paid off big time.

“Hey, Maria,” I said, poking my head in her small office to find her pulling her purse strap over her shoulder.

“Dane, hey. Sorry I’ve got to run. TJ didn’t show up to do deliveries today. Again.”

“That’s the third time this month. Want me to talk to him?”

She shook her head, making her ponytail swing. “Nope. I already fired his ass. I called three people who’ve turned in job applications recently, and they’re coming in for interviews this week so I can get him replaced. But now I have to get those cookies to the animal shelter in twenty minutes.”

“Whoa, slow down. I can take the delivery.”

“Oh thank god,” she said, tossing her purse down and not even bothering to argue. “I put Becca on the register, but she’s still learning the nuances of the POS system. Miguel is up there too, and he can help her, but he stays busy this time of day with barista duties.”

“Yep, people need their afternoon caffeine fix.” We’d put in a fancy coffee bar around four years ago. It had brought in a younger crowd, and profits had risen thirty percent since then. “Let’s get the cookies loaded.”

As we began stacking boxes into the back of my new Ford Explorer, Maria said, “Your neighbor kid is doing a good job. Too bad he’s not old enough to drive, or I’d put him on deliveries.”

“Cooper’s a good kid,” I said. “Hard to believe he’s a teenager now.” I’d hired him a few months ago to bus tables, and he worked his ass off. He was saving money to buy a car.

“I think that’s it, Dane. Now scoot,” Maria ordered, giving me a light shove between the shoulders. She’d come a long damn way from the shy girl who nervously called me Mr. Osbourne every time she saw me.

I arrived at the Furry Love animal shelter with five minutes to spare and was met at the front door by the director, Mrs. Starrett. “Mr. Osbourne, so nice to see you.”

“You, as well,” I said, opening the back of my vehicle and extracting the dolly. She peered into one of the clear-topped boxes and clapped her hands beneath her chin.

“Oh, these are just perfect! Look at all the pretty colors!”

Barry and I had decorated fifteen dozen paw print cookies in a rainbow of colors over the weekend, and I had to admit, they were eye-catching. And fucking delicious.

I wheeled the boxes into the facility, and Mrs. Starrett directed me to an area where two long tables were set up along the wall. “So you’re having a drive to get more pets adopted?” I asked, helping her place the individually wrapped cookies on pretty platters.

“Yep. We always need people coming in to adopt our furry little friends, so we decided to bribe them with cookies. Thank you for the gracious discount, by the way.”

“No problem at all. Happy to help.” I held up a box with an X marked on the side. “We tried something new and thought we’d see if you wanted to try them out. These are homemade dog biscuits. I did research on them, and they’re made from all natural ingredients and are safe for big dogs and puppies.”

Her eyes lit up, and she opened the box, pulling out a few of the small bone-shaped treats. “Oooh, let’s do some market research, shall we? Follow me.”

I trailed her into an area where puppies frolicked in a low-fenced enclosure. Three of them bounded over when she stepped over the barrier and squatted down. “Here you go, babies,” she cooed. “Mr. Osbourne brought you a little treaty-treat.”

Two of the pups grabbed their snacks in their mouths and scampered off, but the third, a small blond dog, rolled onto his back and held the bone between his front paws. Mrs. Starrett and I both laughed when he took a tentative nibble and literally sighed.

“I guess he’s a fan,” I said, stepping over the low fence and squatting to give the pup a belly rub. He snarfed down the rest of his cookie before rolling over and running laps around me. “You sure are cute, little buddy.”

He gave me an agreeable yip and then leaped into my arms. I chuckled, holding his warm, furry body to my chest.

“It looks like you’ve made a friend, Mr. Osbourne,” the director said, her gaze shrewd. “Do you have a backyard?”

Ten minutes later, my gullible ass was walking to the front of the facility with a puppy in my arms. Eden would adore him, and I wanted nothing more than to bring a little joy to my wife. As we were passing through the clear-fronted enclosures holding the cats, my new pet let out a whimper.

“What’s wrong, little dude? Are you scared of cats?”

I walked closer to where his brown gaze was directed, and he held out a paw that seemed too big for his body and pressed it against the plexiglass. The little black-and-white kitten inside rose up on her back legs and laid her front paws in the same spot. Then the pup licked the glass, and the kitten did the same.

“Awww, it would be a shame to separate them,” Mrs. Starrett said.

“You are an evil, manipulative woman,” I said, feigning exasperation but not really feeling it.

“That’s what my husband says. Shall we take them to the play area to see if they get along?”

After another thirty minutes, I opened the passenger side of the SUV and loaded the pet carrier holding the puppy and kitten, who were curled up together on a pink blanket. Both of them were fast asleep.

“Here are your supplies,” Mrs. Starrett said, handing over a large bag with the shelter’s logo imprinted on it. “There’s enough food for each of them for two days.”

“I’m getting out of here before you can foist a hamster or some other damn critter on me,” I complained, climbing in behind the wheel.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Osbourne,” she said sweetly, but I was pretty sure she was doing some kind of evil witch laugh on the inside.