I hightailed it downstairs before anymore close calls. The garden party was winding down by then, and several guests had left—including Malik and nurse turned boo-thang, Corrine. As I rounded the corner just off the stairs Gabe came plowing into me. I stumbled back a bit before regaining my footing and looked up at him with my heart in my throat.

          He looked at me, his eyes red and swollen, and bowed his head. "Excuse me," he said softly.

          "It's fine."

          In the garden, Alice was chatting up some business types near a patio table. We exchanged a look across the lawn, and I waved to let her know she could keep talking. Alexis had taken a seat on a bench under a shady oak overlooking the river. I walked the small steppingstone pathway toward the tree and plopped down next to her on the cold metal.

          "Mom loved this spot," she said as she stared at the glimmering waters with nostalgic longing. "Did you find it?"

          "No." Her face fell a little, but she nodded. "I found something else though." I handed the box over as carefully as if it were made of glass, then waited as she shuffled through the papers. The note was on top of the pile, gently folded as I'd found it. The only thing removed was Este's passport.

          Alexis took a moment to read the letter; her brow dotted with anguished little frown lines. "I don't understand," she said. "This is my mother's handwriting. Where did you find this?"

           "Her bedroom. Under the bed."

          "Why were you in her room?"

          "Looking for the necklace."

          She bit at her lip and stared off into the river. "This doesn't make any sense. My mother died of cancer."

          "Was there an autopsy?"

          "No."

          "Is there any way this could be possible?"

          She stared back at me for a time then shook her head so violently a couple of her braids fell loose from her bun. "No. Who would want to hurt mom?"

          I could think of many people who would want to kill a millionaire if it meant inheritance. "I don't know."

          "Mom wasn't herself the last few months." She said with a heavy sigh. "The brain cancer messed with her head. Made her meaner. More paranoid."

          "So, you think it was just delusions brought on by illness?"

          "...Maybe. Probably." She closed the box and looked back over the river. "At the end she became much more erratic. This government stuff sounds crazy. But that's how she was. The tumor...she would hallucinate, have wild mood swings, memory loss...and she swore someone was out to get her."

          If that was true then everything made sense. Diana was dying and the cancer was destroying her mind. The government, her room being bugged, all signs pointed to paranoid delusions. I could even understand why the family would keep it under wraps. If she was truly that far gone it was better to maintain her dignity and let her die in peace. But still...

          Alexis stood suddenly. "I need to think about this."

          "Of course." I stood too and busied my hands smoothing out the creases of my skirt. "Call me if you want me to look into it."

          She shook her head again. "It's probably just her paranoia."

          "Probably, but if not..."

          She looked me over carefully. "I'll call you."

******************

          Before leaving Alexis took me to the downstairs office and wrote me out a check for services rendered. Easiest hundred and eighty dollars I ever made. If you ignore the several mini heart attacks I had while almost getting caught upstairs. I left with a promise to send the invoice, grabbed my ride-along, and hit the highway with my mind abuzz with information.

          On the way home, Alice chattered in the passenger seat about some man she'd met over a platter of caviar. "He's fine as hell! Divorced, but I can work with that."

          "Job?"

          "He works in finance!" She clapped her hands together excitedly and laughed. "A little morbid meeting at a funeral, though."

          I shrugged. "I met Manny during an active murder investigation." I smiled at the memory then felt bad about smiling. "Bo Conway's body was still warm on the ground when Manny first shook my hand."

          "There's one to tell the grandchildren."

          "Hey kids! I met pop-pop over a rotting corpse."

          "Pop-pop?"

          "He didn't like me at first, but I wore him down."

          "Love in the time of sexual harassment."

          "That's not funny."

          "Lighten up."

          She went on talking. I tried to listen, but my mind was distracted. Could someone have killed Diana? Why? How? And what's this about the government? Probably mental illness like Alexis said. What if she calls back and asks me to investigate, though? How do I investigate a person who's dead and buried? Plus, there was no autopsy. No sign of foul play? No witnesses?

          And who would want Diana dead?

          "So, you found the thing?" Alice's voice fluttered back to me.

          "What thing?"

          "The necklace?"

           "Oh," Of, course! The missing necklace. Was it connected? "No."

          "What happened?"

          "Client confidentiality."

          Her head pivoted my way all theatrical-like as her face scrunched up into a most amusing scowl. "What the hell ever! I helped you infiltrate a funeral. Ethics are for mere mortals now."

          I chuckled outwardly but inside the details of the case were churning in a sphere of confusion. "I found a letter from Diana accusing someone of murdering her."

          "Uh, what?"

          I told her the whole story—including the bit about Destiny and the maid, the loose floorboard, even the kid's cool ass bedroom.

         "Well, shit," she said after listening intently. "I got nothing. What are you gonna do?"

          Alexis had seemed so unperturbed... "Nothing if she doesn't call."

          "And if she does?"

          "I don't know."

          She shook her head and turned the passenger AC vent away from her face. "Crazy ass family."

         "Tell me about it."

          "All this over a necklace?"

          Is this about the necklace? "An expensive necklace."

          "How expensive?"

          "From the picture? Probably tens of thousands."

          "Shit." She hugged herself and ran her hands up and down her bare arms. "I bet it's ugly."

          I turned the air down a notch. "Oh, you know it is."

          "But hiring a private investigator? To search your sister?"

           "I know. When she was in my office I almost recommended a therapist over a P.I. But then the hundred and eighty dollars..."

          "Shiiieet, man. I'd wipe my ass with a hundred and eighty dollars before I'd pay someone to search my own damn house."

           "It's not my place to question family dynamics. I get a job, I do it." Though Malik and the nurse lady set off all kinds of red flags...

          Alice went on, oblivious to my discomfort with the whole ordeal. "I just couldn't imagine all this sneaking around on family. If I got a problem with Kev, I say it to his face."

          "That's how I prefer my relationships but like I said, they don't pay me to judge."

          "Speaking of pay—"

          "Oh, Lord." We were stopped at a red light so I turned a bit to look her up and down.

          "How much is my cut of that hundred and eighty?"

           "Why would you get paid? What did you do?"

          "I texted when someone went in the house. I kept you company."

          "Kept me company? They have a name for that."

          "Yes! And traditionally escorts get paid for their work."

          "You know, my other partners don't ask to get paid for coming on my adventures."

          "So? I know my worth."

          I guffawed so hard it felt like all the pressure seeped from me in one breath. I smiled wide, shook my head, and put my eyes back on the road. "You know what? This was such an easy job, I'm feeling generous."

          "Yeah?"

          "I'll give twenty percent."

          She scrunched her mouth up in indignation. "Cheap ass boss. I'm gonna report you to the better business bureau."

          "Hey, twenty percent is a decent dinner for tonight at the least."

          She looked out the window at the passing signs. "Should we stop somewhere? I'm getting hungry."

          "Hungry? Did you miss the feast we just came from?"

          She ran her fingers along the edge of her hairline, trying not to scratch at the line of slicked hairs lest she mess up her 'do. "Yeah," she smiled. "But I ate light. I was trying to keep it cute for the rich boys."

          I rolled my eyes. "I can't. Jackson's party is tonight."

          "Oh, right." She snapped her fingers. "He passed the thing."

          "Yep."

          "A party seems extravagant. Could've just taken him out to dinner."

          "Oh, grandma hates eating out. Worked in a cafeteria for thirty years. Always talking about how nasty the kitchens are in restaurants."

          "Huh. Well, I guess she'd know."

          "And the last time she went to the movies it was in the colored section of the local drive-in. She likes to brag about how she was small enough to hide in the trunk with her friend Bette."

          "Damn." She started fiddling with the knob of my radio like she owned it or something. "What does she do for entertainment?"

          "She drinks." I turned the knob back to the classic rock station I liked it on instead of the classic R&B station she'd changed it to. "And dances. Almost threw her back out at Christmas."

          "That's just like my grandma. But replace drinking with Jesus." When a Rolling Stones song came on, she pursed her lips but said nothing about it. "Almost twisted her ankle catching the holy spirit."

          "Hey, my grandma loves church too."

          "Not like mine."

          "I think that's just how old people are."

          "The closer to death, the closer to God."

          "We'll probably be like that too."

          She made her voice gravelly in a frankly insulting imitation of an old woman. "Shit, I got one foot, a knee, and a pinky in the grave? Time to get right with Jesus."

          "That whole repent clause really fucks it up. You can do a lifetime worth of dirt as long as you say sorry at the end?"

          "Ain't that the truth."

          Our easy laughter was cut by the abrupt buzzing of my phone. Alice grabbed it from the armrest coaster and read the caller I.d. "It's Manny."

          "Answer it, please." I didn't take my eyes off the road, but my hands tightened around the steering wheel. "And put it on speaker."

          "Hey!" I said when the line connected. "You're on speaker. Alice is with me."

          "Hiiiiii, Manny!" she said in an only slightly flirty singsong.

          He mimicked her. "Hiiiiiii, Alice."

          "What's up?" I said.

          "The Crawdads are having a game tomorrow. You want to go?

          "Sure. What time?"

          "It's early." He sounded so normal. Like he didn't just tell me he loved me. Like everything was good in Manny-world. Meanwhile, I was...lost.

          And I barely understood why.

          "I'll have to see if someone can fill in for me tomorrow."

          "Alright. Give me a call."

         "Okay." The air grew thick. I pressed my lips together; my fingers tapped on the wheel.

          "Lovve yoouuu!" he crowed.

          "...Okay..." Son of a bitch...

          He laughed as he hung up. I continued to stare forward; flustered and anxious.

          "Oh, my god." Alice said once she hung up. "That was brutal."

          "I know."

         "You have to get it together."

          "I know."

          "Out here embarrassing me. What was that?"

          "I don't know!"

          "Do you not like him anymore?"

          "No! I love hanging out with him."

          "Are you sure?"

          "Yes."

         "He's kind of funny, though. Sounds cute too."

         "He is."

         "So...why the weirdness."

          "It's just an awkward stage!" I heard my voice raise just a smidge.

          "Evie, girl...relax." And she smiled and held her hands up in surrender. "I'm just playing."

          "Sorry. I've been a little on edge."

          "I get it. Its awkward when one person says the 'L' word and the other doesn't. We've all been there."

          "Thanks."

          She nodded her head like she was bobbing to a beat. "And anyway, you're already in love with him."

          "How—"

          "I have a sixth sense about these things. You know I'm psychically inclined."

           "Alright it's time for you to get out of my car."

          "I predicted—"

          "No, you didn't!"

          "—That Ali Brown was gonna get knocked up by that crazy drug dealer always sniffin' around our dorm."

          "Girl, please. Anyone with working eyeballs and a quarter brain could see that train wreck comin' from a country mile."

          "Hey...what's Manny's sign? He's a Scorpio, ain't he? That's a good match for your whiny Cancer ass."

           "Shut up!"

          The rest of the drive to her house we laughed about the days events and talked some moderate shit about people we both knew. When I dropped her off, I gave her the twenty percent cut with a promise to keep her posted on that whole murder thing.

          On the drive home my mind was consumed with thoughts of the family. For the most part, they were pretty cold to one another. Malik, Destiny, Gabe, and Alexis. Barely a family at all. Now I'm a firm believer that that's none of my business but this murder matter intrigues me. What if someone really did kill her? What if her last days were nothing but a combination of drug induced lethargy and terror? What if there really was a conspiracy? And if there was, what could I do?

           But what if it really was the paranoia? What if I was thinking about Diana Dupont's absurd murder accusation just to take my mind off the pressure I felt to reciprocate Manny's feelings?

          Whichever it was, my mind needed a break and the two or so hours before I showed up late as hell to Jackson's party was a perfect time to think about anything else. Once home I'd probably go over some work—no. Relax. I'll relax. Curl up with a cup of tea and catch up on my shows. That's all I want to do.

          It wasn't until I was putting my key in the lock that I remembered the passport and the syringe stuffed into my purse. The syringe didn't matter but Este's passport did.

           I don't know why I took it out of the box. I think I wanted to give it back to Este. It was hers after all and whatever it was doing in that box wasn't good.

           But I couldn't think about that now. All I wanted was that cup of tea and maybe a nice long bath and then to get through Jackson's party as painlessly as possible.

          Yes, sir. Chill, now. Ramifications, later.

**********************************************

Editor's Note 9/11/20: Okay, this is stupid, but I'm a human and therefore fallible. In chapter 5 of this book, while Evie is searching Diana's room, she was supposed to find another clue along with the keepsake box. It was an empty syringe which she hides away without thinking and takes out of the party along with the passport. Somehow, I forgot to write about it, which is nuts since I haven't forgotten an important plot point since book 1. Embarrassing. Anyway, I am super sorry for the confusion, I'll go back and schedule time to write it in. For now, its Friday and I need a break so I'm logging off but I'll make the changes this week.

Readers who have already read chapter 5 will not need to reread. She found it under the bed close to where the box was and put it in her purse unthinkingly. 

Once again, sorry for the inconvenience.