Читать книгу Murder at the PTA - Lee Hollis - Страница 12

CHAPTER SIX

The following evening, Frances Turner pretended to be stunned when six of her girlfriends, not including Maya and her daughter, Vanessa, stood eagerly in the living room to yell “Surprise!” when she entered Maya’s modest single-level home in a slightly run-down working-class neighborhood still a few years away from gentrification.

Frances was a trained police officer and licensed private investigator. It was her job to know what to expect and what she might walk into at all times. Maya had tried keeping the secret, sneaking around, planning all the baby-shower details, and Frances at least attempted to stay in the dark, but there were just too many obvious clues. Like the adorable stuffed elephant with the price tag still on it that she had spotted in Maya’s closet one night while hanging up her coat when she stopped by to discuss a case; the unusual number of texts she noticed that kept popping up on Maya’s cell phone at the office from a few girlfriends Frances went to high school with as well as a couple of women who worked with her in the police department back in the day; and then, the most suspicious of all signs, Maya pressuring her into coming over for dinner on this particular night, the same night of the week that Maya always stayed home to watch her hero and role model Mariska Hargitay collar the dangerous sex fiends marauding New York on a new episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Why was she so insistent that Frances come over on this night, the one night France’s BFF, Abby, had off from work? It didn’t take a detective, and yes, Frances was one, to solve this mystery.

Maya could see Frances trying her best to act genuinely shocked and overjoyed as the women rushed at her with hugs and kisses on the cheek as Frances marveled at the large pile of exquisitely wrapped baby gifts that were on Maya’s coffee table.

“You got me. I sure did not see this coming . . . ,” Frances lied, shaking her head, clutching her heart, perhaps overdoing it just a smidge.

Vanessa arrived from the kitchen, handing the expectant mother-to-be a virgin cocktail, a Shirley Temple, before escorting her over to the couch, where she sat down and took center stage to gab with her girlfriends and bring everyone up to speed on her progress.

“I just want this little bugger out of me already. I’m tired of carrying him around,” Frances joked.

“He doesn’t look so little from here,” a zaftig, wide-eyed African American woman with gorgeous red nails said with a smile, raising her half-empty wineglass. “And we’ve all seen his daddy!”

“Yes, if he’s as big as his father, I’m terrified he’s going to rip me apart when I finally give birth!” Frances wailed.

“You’ll be fine. That’s what the drugs are for,” Maya said, laughing.

Vanessa scooted back to the kitchen to check on the hors d’oeuvres she had baking in the oven. She had volunteered to help Maya throw the party because she was fond of her aunt Frances, even though she wasn’t really her aunt. Plus it gave her a night off from her mother hounding her about her schoolwork.

After about an hour of gossip, Frances began opening her gifts, most of which were wrapped in blue paper, since Frances already knew she was having a boy. There was a polished gold first-year frame for monthly pictures; an adorable long-sleeve romper that read on the front Ladies, I Have Arrived; a package of drool bibs in assorted colors; some teething toys; and, most practically, in addition to the stuffed elephant, a baby diaper tote bag from Maya. Even though Frances despised being the center of attention, and on more than one occasion had scoffed at the idea of anyone throwing her a baby shower, Maya knew the gifts from her friends would be a lifesaver since neither parent of the soon-to-be-born boy was pulling down a big income to be in any kind of position to buy a lot of baby supplies. They would both be grateful for this very generous head start.

Maya plowed her way through the middle of the party, scooping up the discarded wrapping paper and ribbons and clearing the area so they could chat and laugh some more. Althea, the one with the fiery red nails, was in the middle of a story about going into labor while at a movie theater watching an Avengers movie that was so loud, no one around her could hear her screaming with labor pains, when the doorbell rang.

Maya scanned the roomful of guests. Everyone on the guest list was present and accounted for, so she couldn’t imagine who it might be. She excused herself to open the door.

It was Frances’s baby daddy, Vinnie Cooper, the football coach at SoPo High.

He grinned knowingly. “Hey, Maya. I hope we’re not interrupting anything!”

Vinnie wasn’t alone. Behind him was a muscled, bronzed man with an impossibly handsome face and radiant smile that threatened to melt hearts. He was a couple inches taller than Vinnie, not too tall, Maya’s perfect type of man, if she had one.

Vinnie stepped aside so the man was directly in front of Maya. “This is my bro Mateo, Mateo Reyes.”

“Nice to meet you, Mateo,” Maya said, offering her hand.

“Likewise,” he said, taking it and squeezing it ever so slightly, enough to send a shiver up Maya’s spine.

“He’s a detective too, works homicide,” Vinnie boasted.

“I’d like to go private someday, like you,” Mateo said, still slaying her with that sexy smile.

“Well, there is a lot to be said for the steady paycheck you get at the department.” Maya laughed before ushering them both inside.

She knew Frances had told Vinnie about the shower, and she strongly suspected Frances had encouraged him to crash it because if there was one thing Frances detested, it was frilly, giggly, girly affairs, where she feared she might get bored quickly. But Maya still couldn’t figure out why Vinnie would bother to enlist the aid of his handsome friend Mateo. What guy would ever want to drag a good buddy to a baby shower?

The women’s lively conversation quickly halted at the sight of the two men ambling into the living room. All eyes were glued to Mateo, who nodded bashfully at the women staring at him.

Althea picked up the Ladies . . . I Have Arrived romper and quipped, “I’ll say he has!”

There was raucous laughter from the women, who made room for the two men to sit down and join the party. Vinnie excitedly started to pore over all the gifts.

Maya leaned down to Vinnie. “Can I get you something to drink, Vinnie?”

“How about a Maker’s Mark with a splash of ginger ale?”

He noticed Frances eyeing him warily. “What? I’m not the one who’s pregnant!”

There was more laughter from the women.

“Mateo?” Maya asked.

“Just some water, thank you,” he answered with a wink.

Maya’s knees nearly buckled, but she kept her balance and hurried to the kitchen. On her way, she noticed Frances signaling Vinnie to help her stand up, since her giant belly made it difficult for her to do it on her own. Within moments, Frances had made her way to the kitchen, where Maya was pouring whiskey over a glass of ice.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Frances whispered.

“Who?”

“You know who. Mateo.”

Maya pretended to glance back into the living room and notice him for the first time. “I suppose so, yes.”

“Come on, I saw the look on your face when you let him in. You think he’s gorgeous!”

“What is he doing here? Did you tell Vinnie to show up and crash your baby shower just in case you hated it and wanted to go home?”

Frances shrugged and smiled. “Maybe.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Well, I told you not to throw me one, and I knew you were lying through your teeth when you promised me you wouldn’t.”

“I spent a lot on that diaper tote bag, so damn it, you’re going to be grateful and enjoy it!”

“I love it. And I’m very happy you didn’t listen to me. I got a great haul, and I’m psyched to see all the girls.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I know . . . ,” Frances said with a sly smile.

The reality hit Maya like a splash of cold water. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I may have,” Frances said, picking up a chicken empanada, which was cooling on a tray on top of the stove, and stuffing it into her mouth.

“This is a fix-up?” Maya groaned.

“Why not? Look at him. He’s beautiful; he has a successful career, a car, his own home; and, get ready for the kicker, he’s actually single!”

“No, I am not going to let you do this.”

“Come on, Maya, you have to dip your toe back in the pool at some point. Otherwise, sooner or later you’ll forget how to swim.”

“How many times have we been in the office, or out working a case, or at a bar having a cocktail, and I’ve told you in no uncertain terms I am not looking to date anyone right now?”

“And I respected your wishes, but that was before I got the idea of putting you and Mateo together. You two are a perfect match.”

“And how many times have I said I would never date, let alone marry, anyone in law enforcement ever again?”

“You’ve got to get over that.”

“My police-captain husband is in prison for corruption! I really think you should cut me some slack!”

“Ex-husband,” Frances reminded her as she grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, and handed it to Frances. “Now go serve your guests some drinks and wipe that gloomy look off your face. You’re the hostess of this shindig, and you are going to go out there and give the performance of a lifetime!”

“What happened to just be yourself?” Maya asked.

“I’m not taking any chances,” Frances said.

Maya stared daggers at her and then whipped around and marched back to the living room, carrying the whiskey and water.