“Yes, I am,” I replied, surprised she had recognized me right away. Her expression was a mix of shock and hesitance. I couldn’t help but notice that she only held the door open wide enough that she could see us and she was quite literally clutching the pearls around her neck. 

“My name is Michelle but you can call me Mickey. This is my boyfriend Vincent.” I paused only because there seemed to be a lot going on in Stephanie’s expression. Her lips tugged down at the mention of my nickname and her nose wrinkled as she shifted her gaze to Vincent. 

“You look so much like your father. The good traits anyways. You would have been hideous had you gotten his nose. That delicate little thing is your mother’s no doubt.” 

Stephanie was appraising me freely. The door opened wider to reveal that she wore a pencil skirt and blazer. She still hadn’t acknowledged Vincent’s prescenece, which I could tell made him antsy. His eyes were traveling the patio and peering behind Stephanie into the entryway with a chandelier hanging from its center. 

“I found you on Facebook a few days ago. We were in the area and I thought I’d stop by and visit. I had never heard of you before so I was delighted to find I had an aunt on my father’s side.” 

She tilted her head back as she let out a huff. “I’m sure you were.” 

She stepped aside, making room for Vincent and I to enter. 

“Come in and be quick about it. I have to go shopping for new curtains before the stores close.” 

We entered and were greeted by an interior design that screamed old money. There was no doubt in my mind that this house had been passed on generation to generation, none of the furniture replaced. The chairs in the entryway had a gold colored trim and cushions designed with floral prints. The staircase was at the center, grand and ready for a Queen to walk down the red carpet that was draped over the steps. 

Stephanie hurried past the two of us, ignoring Vincent’s attempt to greet her. 

“I would give you a tour but I simply don’t have the time. Let’s sit in the living room.” 

 We followed her into a room that was as darkly paneled as my own home with red acting as an accent in the carpet and cushions. A fireplace that looked unused rested a foot away from the seating area. Stephanie took a seat on an arm chair, leaving the couch to the two of us. 

“As you may know from my social media, I inherited this home from my late husband. He died many years ago, leaving me without children. Because of that, I have dedicated my life to helping children in need as a philanthropist.” She gave a smile and placed her hands over her heart. “It doesn’t make up for never getting the chance to have a child of my own but I’ve gotten to take care of children nonetheless.” 

Vincent nodded enthusiastically but I knew he was probably thinking the same thing I was. She sounded rehearsed. However, if the money was going to kids in need, I didn’t care if she was only donating to be liked or popular. 

“I am very sorry about what happened at your sister’s wedding. I heard about it in the news. How devastating. I meant to send flowers but I never got around to it,” she said, her voice dripping with sympathy. I chose to believe that the sentiment was real and not an act. What happened to Nancy and Adonis was devastating. If Stephanie was decent, she realized that. 

"That's alright." 

"And she's pregnant now. At least, she'll have his child. That's the best thing he could have possibly left her." Her eyes glazed over as she ran her hand over her braid. It sat over her shoulder, winding around her like a snake. Then she straightened and rolled her shoulders back to fix her posture. "What are you up to? Are you out of school?" 

"Yes, I'm a book editor." Vincent adjusted his legs causing his knee to momentarily brush mine. I stopped breathing for a second, which was silly of me to do seeing as he was posing as my boyfriend. I couldn't act repulsed by his touch if I wanted the cover to stick. I wasn't repulsed by his touch. I just wasn't used to it because he never touched me. He seemed like the kind of person who never touched anyone, a real 'personal space' kind of guy. I didn't mind that though. It was professional and showed he was well mannered. 

I was on a tangent in my head. I had missed half of what Stephanie had been saying. 

"I recommend you establish yourself in your career before settling down. Make sure you have a steady income and a name for yourself. It'll help you not to compromise for anything less than you deserve," she said. Her eyes flicked to Vincent in the quickest motion but I caught it. 

My cheeks grew hot. I heard Vincent suck in a breath and before I could think anything through, I grabbed his hand. Interlacing our fingers, I kept our hands on my lap and sat up as straight as Stephanie did. 

It bothered me that she disliked Vincent. Not only because it could only have been some form of prejudice since she didn't know him but because if it had been Darren, she probably would have asked when we were going to get married. Darren was all talk and all pearly white teeth. He wouldn't have let me travel up state to see Stephanie. He would have told me I was crazy and needed to let Adonis's case go. He wouldn't have made me feel capable enough to contribute to something as important as an investigation because maybe, just maybe, if I did then I would realize I was capable enough to not need him. 

Stephanie's comment also angered me because Vincent was the kind of man women wanted to settle down with. He was charming in a subtle way, honest, thoughtful, and intelligent. He was calm in scary situations. He was never overbearing. Whatever presumptions she had made about him were wrong. I wanted her to know that and that protective reflex surprised me as much as it surprised Vincent. 

His hand was growing sweatier by the second and I saw his whole arm go rigid before he let himself relax. 

"Vincent is an amazing partner," I said. "I'm lucky to have him." 

From the corner of my eye, I saw his face flush. His cheeks weren't a cute rosy pink but a dark, blouchy, tomato red. If Stephanie hadn't irked me as much as she did, I might have laughed at him. He was adorable. 

"Of course." Stephanie folded her hands over her knee, finally giving Vincent a polite smile. It quickly melted off, replaced by a bored frown. "Is that why the two of you are here? To ask for money for a wedding of your own?" 

Here it was. It was time to poke around for the truth. 

"No, I actually wanted to ask if you had lent my family money at all in the past." 

Stephanie sighed. She reached to the side of her chair and pulled out a folding fan. It cut through the air with a sharp ripping noise and then she was fanning herself. The room felt cool enough to me, maybe even a little drafty. Still, she fanned herself with brisk determination. 

"Your sister, Nancy, came to me months ago asking the same question. What is it with you two? Does your family not communicate?" 

I glanced at Vincent whose eyebrow was quirked up. He tilted his head slightly, urging me to continue pressing. 

"Nancy asked if you had ever lent my family money?" 

"Yes. She asked if I had ever sent your caretakers money as recently as last spring." She snapped the fan shut against her left palm and then wagged it at me. "It sounded like she thought they were stealing money I gifted to you two but I can assure you that I did not send you or your family money, ever." 

A beat later she added, "I don't owe any of you anything. I can choose to do with my wealth as I please." 

Not wanting to further provoke her short temper, I agreed. "Of course. I understand."  

This had to mean that Nancy found out about the mysterious donation before me. Maybe she overheard a conversation or saw a bill. If she traveled three hours out to see if the money had come from a relative she had never met before, it meant that our aunt and uncle hadn't given her a straight answer either. 

"When did she come to see you?" Vincent asked. 

"A few months ago. I believe it was around the Fourth of July." 

That was only a few days after Tìa marked the donation down in her fiance's book. 

"Did she ask about anything else?" 

"She asked about your father, Luis. It seemed like an afterthought. She thought I may have had some stories about him or something." She waved her hand in the air as if to clear smoke.

Nancy had asked about our father? She was always reluctant to talk about him or bring him up. She made a point to emphasize how much she despised him every time he did come up. Maybe this meant I wasn't twisted for wondering about him despite what he did. Maybe it was normal for me to want to know him even though he had done something unforgivable. 

"If you plan on doing that, I would ask you to skip it. I don't like talking about Luis." Stephanie's lips puckered into a pout. Her fan was open again, sending wispy, black strands out her braid and making her teardrop earrings swing. 

I softened my voice. "Because of what he did?" 

She abruptly stopped fanning and without the ripple of the plastic, the room went still. 

"Yes," she said. "He is a disgrace to my family and I do not wish for anyone to associate my name with his." 

It was clear that Stephanie was done talking. Rather than offer us something to drink, she asked us how long our ride back would be and told us that we could avoid traffic if we left soon. Point taken. We left her mansion and walked back out to the car. She watched us from the door the whole time, unblinking and unsmiling. 

The second we got into the car and Stephanie's door shut, Vincent turned to me. I thought he was going to say something about how I had impulsively grabbed his hand and I felt my own hands dampen with sweat. 

"I noticed something when we were speaking to her. There was a picture frame in the far end of the room where we were sitting. Her back was towards it." 

I hadn't noticed any pictures aside from the large paintings that hung on the walls in the entryway. 

Vincent continued. "It was a picture of your father. I know it was him because I've seen photos of him while going over your family's records in the beginning of the case."

"My father?" I thought back to the living room but I couldn't visualize it there. Vincent was far more observant than me. "But she said she didn't want to be associated with him." 

He put his keys into the ignition and sat back. "Exactly." 

We sat there as the car warmed up. The fog in the air had cleared up enough for the sun to come out but it was already beginning to set. Orange shot out from the horizon while the sky was lit on fire with a bright red. I blocked off the rays with my arm as we drove off Stephanie's land. 

"So, do you believe her? You think it really wasn't her who gave my family the money?" 

"She's very prideful. I would think that she would want to be acknowledged for her considerable donation," he replied, stroking his thumb over his lips. "I think you should speak to Nancy. She had the same questions as you and went looking for answers. Maybe she found out but even if she didn't, knowing anything she knows is helpful." 

"You're right." 

I checked my phone and found a list of missed call notifications. All of them were from Darren's number. Then, as if he had sensed I was on my phone, he called again. 

My phone vibrated loudly so I muted it again  and tossed it in the cup holder between Vincent and I. He glanced down at it and then at me. 

"I was thinking," he said, "Maybe you should call Darrren back." 

I squinted at him, sitting back in my seat to watch him more freely. Earlier it had sounded like he thought I was doing the right thing by ignoring him - that I shouldn't give Darren what he wanted. What had made him change his mind? It was probably because I held his hand. He probably thought I was losing it. 

Since I hadn't responded, Vincent peeked over at me as he drove. I must have looked skeptical because he quickly elaborated. 

"Getting a warrant looks like it might be impossible at this stage. We don't have enough on him to get a judge to approve of one. However, if someone at the office willingly showed you some of their records . . ." 

I made a face. "Why would they do that?" 

I was friendly with Darren's coworkers, especially the ones that doubled as his roommates, but that didn't mean they'd let me snoop around their company's financial files. And Darren, he would look at me as if I grew another head. What normal explanation could I have for wanting to know intimate details about his company's success? 

"You're creative," Vincent said, nonchalantly. "You could come up with something." 

I gave a dry laugh. "So, you want me to leverage my relationship with Darren?" 

He cringed. "You don't have to -" 

"But it would help?" 

"It would." 

I thought about it. I thought about what it would feel like to be sneaky and dig the hole of secrets I was keeping deeper. I also thought about finally getting answers on the case. It had somehow stretched out to be more than Adonis's death. Everyone seemed to be implicated in something and if I could just tic Darren off the suspect list then maybe we could get somewhere. Maybe I could find some peace. 

The screen of my phone flashed to life inside Vincent's cup holder. It was Darren calling again. 

I exhaled deeply.

Vincent bit his lip. 

"Fine." I held my finger up to my lips to signal that he should keep quiet. If Darren heard the voice of a man, his jealousy would probably get stirred up again. I answered and placed the call on speaker so Vincent could hear. 

"Stop calling me." 

Vincent did a double take in my direction. My choice of greeting had obviously shocked him considering what the new objective was. 

I need to be realistic, I mouthed. 

He shook his head, retraining his sight on the road. 

"Mickey, I'm so glad you picked up." Darren's voice was pleading though he hadn't started pleading for anything yet. "You have every right to be mad at me and never want to see me again. In fact, I would understand in you hung up on me right now -" 

"I might." 

"No, wait! Okay, I'm an ass. I'm a big, stinky, smelly ass who doesn't deserve you."  

"I won't disagree with that." 

I smirked as Vincent's nose wrinkled. He appeared slightly scandalized by the potty talk. 

"Our fight was all my fault. I said things I didn't mean and that I never, ever should have said but I love you. Let me fix this." 

He said exactly what he needed to say to make things better but that didn't mean he meant them. If he wanted me back then he could say anything to accomplish that. I could figure out if he was being sincere or not later. As of that moment, it wasn't about us as a couple but about the case. 

"I don't know," I said, not wanting to make things too easy for him. 

"I will stand out your window with a boombox, if I have to. I will wait for you to grow out your hair and let it down for me to climb up. I will get down on my hands and knees and bark if that's what you want. Woof!" 

He continued to bark and I couldn't help but laugh, not because it was funny to me but because I was embarrassed on his behalf. Vincent clenched his teeth at me as if to say, You are in love with that? 

I was looking at Vincent when I replied, "You're insane." 

"Just meet me for some coffee," he begged. "Hear me out. You won't regret it." 

Vincent lifted his shoulder and I rolled my eyes at him. 

You are the one making me do this. 

"Okay," I agreed. 

Whoops and hollers sounded from Darren's end of the line, all of them from him. He was so theatrical. "Thank you! Love . . . ." 

My heart clenched. He was going to say he loved me as a sign off like he always did. As unsure as I felt, the hurt that came with knowing there might come a time when those words were no longer exchanged between us was painful. 

"I hope you know I love you," he finished and it felt as if I could breathe again. 

He hung up so I didn't have to respond and I was grateful for it. 

"Well, that's done." 

"Do you trust him?" Vincent asked after a beat of silence. The sun had set completely and it was getting harder to see him without the aid of street lights. 

"I don't know. I don't really trust anyone anymore except you." 

I realized what I had said when the sentence lingered between us afterward. I meant it, there was no doubt about that, but it felt extremely vulnerable to let him know that I felt that way. I didn't want him to feel any pressure or responsibility from the statement. I wasn't trying to say he was the only person I could rely on perse but . . . Gosh, I was being so impulsive that night. First with holding his hand, then calling Darren back, and speaking before I thought. What was getting into me?  

"Are you hoping to get back together with him?" 

I tilted my head to the side. Vincent wasn't wouldn't look at me. 

"Why are you asking?"

"Never mind. I apologize. That's none of my business. I shouldn't have -" 

"No, no. It's okay. I just -" 

We both seemed to pause to take a breath. We were both equally flustered. It was probably the long hours on the road that had made us like this. 

"Everything in my life is rapidly changing," I said, after collecting myself. "I want things to change for the better. I don't know that when I'm done adjusting things that Darren will fit into it." 

We drove under a light and I caught Vincent's subtle reassuring smile. I smiled back. 

About an hour into the drive back, we were both starving. We stopped for tacos at a drive thru and with a full stomach, sleep was calling me like a siren. I tried to stay awake only because it felt unfair for me to rest while Vincent had to drive for two more hours. My heavy eyelids eventually won and I had only realized I had fallen asleep when a bump in the road knocked my head on the window glass. 

My annoyance at the disturbance vanished as a melody as sweet as cherry jam filled the air. The radio was on though I didn't remember Vincent having turned it on. The voice was soft and soulful, catching the music notes with an ease that was angelic. The emotion in every lyric was palpable as the singer sung about how despite the pain of loss, love made it worth it. 

As I blinked my eyes open, the car's dashboard came into sight. It was dark but when I glanced over at Vincent, I could see the outline of his lips moving. 

He was the one singing. He was singing to the song on the radio. 

I did my best to stay perfectly still so as to not disrupt his singing. I worried that if he saw I was awake he would clam up. When he was half way into the next song, he turned to look at my side of the car before switching lanes. He abruptly stopped singing and let out a gasp. 

"I thought you were sleeping." 

"You're really good." 

He laughed nervously.  

"Keep singing. I don't mind." 

He gave me a shy smile before launching back into the song. I rested my head back on the glass, lingering between sleep and reality, as I listened to Vincent's voice. I wished I could wear the melodies like a quilt and let them shield me from the rest of the world. 

I couldn't remember the last time I had felt truly safe. I hadn't thought I would feel it again until the case was solved. Yet, there in a car that smelt like coconut, pineapple and Vincent, with the whooshing of cars flying past us, and a soft chorus lulling me to sleep, I felt as secure as I ever had. 

Authorized Note: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think.