to help his friend along on that front—she was pretty sure Ian didn't need any help on that front—but something between a one-night stand and marriage was more likely.
“Maybe.”
She thought about asking him why her, or why not someone else, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
“Okay, just, uh, checking,” she said instead and made a beeline for the stairs. She hadn't missed how attractive Ian was. And she'd sensed his awareness of her, in a subtle, tentative sort of way, like he was testing out the interest—on both of them. But she hadn't let her mind go any further than an almost clinical analysis of the situation—interest noted, felt, and filed away. It was different now though, with Kathryn's conversation still hovering in her mind, followed by Rob's very male inquiry, and she knew it would be harder to ignore the whole thing. The next time she saw Ian, it—whatever ‘it’ was—would be lingering there on the fringes of her mind like a pesky bug, flittering in and out of her line of sight at random moments.
She pushed the door to her room open a little harder than necessary then grabbed it to keep it from hitting the opposite wall. Setting all her stuff down, Vivi stripped off her clothes and jumpedinto the shower. When she no longer smelled like a morgue, she dried off, slipped into a nightshirt, and propped her dinner tray on the bed. It was early, but she didn't feel like getting dressed in something else only to get undressed again in a few hours.
Picking up her cell, Vivi dialed her Aunt Mary, who would, no doubt, want a minute-by-minute account of her morning excursion. And an hour later, she hung up with Mary and dialed her Uncle Michael.
“Darling girl, is that you?”
“You know it's me, Uncle Michael, you have caller ID,” she answered with a laugh. Uncle Mike, was one of her father's three brothers, all of whom had become cops. He'd married an Irish girl, back in the day, and so, while Vivi's dad was firmly rooted in the Italian community in Boston, Uncle Mike and his wife Nancy straddled the Irish-Italian divide.
“What's doing, young lady? Are we going to see your gorgeous face here any time soon?”
In response, Vivi gave him a brief overview of her situation. Not surprisingly, he was upset that she had landed herself in yet another murder investigation. But she could also tell he was pleased that she was no longer driving around the country alone with no rhyme or reason—that kind of spontaneity worried him. And, since it hadn't been in her character either until a month ago, she was pretty sure he might have given himself an ulcer over her little road trip.
She gave him the rundown on the players, the victim, and the evidence. He mulled it over with her for a bit, tossing ideas back and forth, but since there was so little to go on at this point, the conversation was fairly short.
“Well, if anyone can help bring that girl some peace, you can,” he offered in blind support of Vivi. “Your Aunt Nancy is grabbing the phone from me, now. I'll talk to you soon, Vivi. You keep in touch,” he added. There was a shuffle of the phone being handed around, then Nancy DeMarco's voice came on the line.
“Luv, it is you!” her Aunt Nancy started. “I'm so glad you called. I just walked in the door, I was out shopping for Kiera's baby shower. It's a few days away and I'm leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow— any chance you will change your mind and come with me?” Kiera wasNancy and Mike's eldest daughter and only a year older than Vivi. Because they were the closest cousins in age, they'd been like sisters as long as Vivi could remember. But even so, Vivi couldn't bring herself to make the trip. Not now.
“I'm in the middle of a case, Aunt Nancy. But even if I weren't, well…” her voice trailed off.
Nancy sighed in understanding. “I know, dear. We all know.” She absolved Vivi with those few words. “We're all glad you're finally taking some time to
“Maybe.”
She thought about asking him why her, or why not someone else, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
“Okay, just, uh, checking,” she said instead and made a beeline for the stairs. She hadn't missed how attractive Ian was. And she'd sensed his awareness of her, in a subtle, tentative sort of way, like he was testing out the interest—on both of them. But she hadn't let her mind go any further than an almost clinical analysis of the situation—interest noted, felt, and filed away. It was different now though, with Kathryn's conversation still hovering in her mind, followed by Rob's very male inquiry, and she knew it would be harder to ignore the whole thing. The next time she saw Ian, it—whatever ‘it’ was—would be lingering there on the fringes of her mind like a pesky bug, flittering in and out of her line of sight at random moments.
She pushed the door to her room open a little harder than necessary then grabbed it to keep it from hitting the opposite wall. Setting all her stuff down, Vivi stripped off her clothes and jumpedinto the shower. When she no longer smelled like a morgue, she dried off, slipped into a nightshirt, and propped her dinner tray on the bed. It was early, but she didn't feel like getting dressed in something else only to get undressed again in a few hours.
Picking up her cell, Vivi dialed her Aunt Mary, who would, no doubt, want a minute-by-minute account of her morning excursion. And an hour later, she hung up with Mary and dialed her Uncle Michael.
“Darling girl, is that you?”
“You know it's me, Uncle Michael, you have caller ID,” she answered with a laugh. Uncle Mike, was one of her father's three brothers, all of whom had become cops. He'd married an Irish girl, back in the day, and so, while Vivi's dad was firmly rooted in the Italian community in Boston, Uncle Mike and his wife Nancy straddled the Irish-Italian divide.
“What's doing, young lady? Are we going to see your gorgeous face here any time soon?”
In response, Vivi gave him a brief overview of her situation. Not surprisingly, he was upset that she had landed herself in yet another murder investigation. But she could also tell he was pleased that she was no longer driving around the country alone with no rhyme or reason—that kind of spontaneity worried him. And, since it hadn't been in her character either until a month ago, she was pretty sure he might have given himself an ulcer over her little road trip.
She gave him the rundown on the players, the victim, and the evidence. He mulled it over with her for a bit, tossing ideas back and forth, but since there was so little to go on at this point, the conversation was fairly short.
“Well, if anyone can help bring that girl some peace, you can,” he offered in blind support of Vivi. “Your Aunt Nancy is grabbing the phone from me, now. I'll talk to you soon, Vivi. You keep in touch,” he added. There was a shuffle of the phone being handed around, then Nancy DeMarco's voice came on the line.
“Luv, it is you!” her Aunt Nancy started. “I'm so glad you called. I just walked in the door, I was out shopping for Kiera's baby shower. It's a few days away and I'm leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow— any chance you will change your mind and come with me?” Kiera wasNancy and Mike's eldest daughter and only a year older than Vivi. Because they were the closest cousins in age, they'd been like sisters as long as Vivi could remember. But even so, Vivi couldn't bring herself to make the trip. Not now.
“I'm in the middle of a case, Aunt Nancy. But even if I weren't, well…” her voice trailed off.
Nancy sighed in understanding. “I know, dear. We all know.” She absolved Vivi with those few words. “We're all glad you're finally taking some time to
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