Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (18 page)

I pushed his hand away and got to my feet. "Why would I want to do that? She faked my kidnapping to hide her shame." I scowled at the pitiful grave. "And she doesn’t even have the decency to be alive so I can tell her off."

Joe got to his feet and shook his head. "It ain’t that cut and dried. Rose spent the last of her life looking for you." He tilted his head. "That sound like somebody who faked a kidnapping?"

My eyes filled with tears. "Damn it Joe, stop torturing me and tell me what you know."

Joe shrugged. "Okay sunshine, here’s what I know." He sighed. "Right around the time you went missing, a baby was found in St. Daniel’s church on Prescott and Fitzgerald in North Hollywood. Rose didn’t hear about that until months later."

"Why?"

Joe shrugged. "She was in the hospital over the trauma of losing you. I expect her family kept it from her, so she wouldn’t get more riled up." He looked off to a stand of pines in the distance. "I tracked down a few of her neighbors from back then. She was in a bad way." He looked at me. "Lotta sorrow for one young girl isn’t it?" He shrugged. "Doubt she read the papers any either."

The article had said she was hospitalized, but it seemed a convenient excuse. "How long was she in the hospital?"

"Couple months. When she got out, she started looking for you." He shook his head unhappily. "Back then, DNA testing wasn’t common, so her finding you that way was impossible. But she kept after the police to keep your case open, for all the good it did. After she gave up on expecting help from them, she wrote letters to every adoption agency in the state. To every Child Services office she could find."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "But I was here. Why didn’t she find me? There must’ve been some kind of records."

Joe took my hand and patted it. "It was a different time back then, Scotti. If a mother abandoned her baby, she’d do jail time. I expect the police reports of your kidnapping might’ve swayed Child Services to reject her inquiries."

I stamped my foot. "But…"

Joe held up his hand. "I don’t know sunshine. And there probably ain’t no way to find that out. Her letters went unanswered or ignored or something else." He tipped up my chin. "All I know is that she was looking for you. She never gave up."

I knelt down at the grave and traced the letters of her name with my finger. I looked up at him sadly. "You really think Rose was my mother?"

Joe pulled two photographs out of his breast pocket, then tapped them against the palm of his hand. He gave me one of them and said, "Recognize this?"

I leaned back on my haunches and stared. "Where did you get this? God, I couldn’t have been more than three or four."

He tapped the photo with his finger. "You see what you got yourself wrapped up in there?"

It was my yellow blanket. It had little lavender dots all over it. Just like the one taken with Rose’s baby. I reached for the other photo. "And that one?"

Joe held it out of reach and sighed. "Take a deep breath."

He offered the photo, but something in his eyes made me hesitate. "What is it?"

He placed the photo face down in my hand. "Look. When you’re ready."

My pounding heart roared in my ears and I turned over the photo. The old snapshot was faded and yellowed at the edges but the image was clear enough. The clothes and makeup were dated but she had my cheekbones, my chin and the same weird little divet at the end of her nose. And all of those features were framed by a mop of curly blond hair. My eyes met Joe’s. "Is this real?"

Joe’s voice cracked, "You’re the spitting image of your mama, Scotti."

I nodded and studied the photo. Rose looked directly into the camera as though the world rested on her shoulders. In her arms she held a tiny baby, swaddled in a yellow blanket with lavender dots. I hugged the photo to my heart and wept. "Mommy."

Joe patted my back. "There, there, now."

I stared at Rose’s pitiful grave, and my heart ached. "All these years I thought she was a monster who threw me away. I never even gave her a chance."

Joe offered me a hand and helped me to my feet. "Don’t beat yourself up." He gave me a hankie. "Ain’t no way you coulda known."

I wiped my face and blew my nose. "She was so young, how’d she die?" Joe pursed his lips. I clutched his arm. "Was she sick? Was it some terrible disease? Did she suffer?"

Joe put his hand on my shoulder. "Rose was killed during a robbery in a restaurant where she worked."

I stared at him because that one little thing made me feel like I belonged to someone. "She was a waitress?"

"And a cook." Joe smiled sadly. "Apple don’t fall far from the tree."

I dissolved into tears. "I guess not." Joe put his arms around me and let me cry. I didn’t really know who I was crying for — me or my mother. But all that agony I’d kept locked in for so long rushed out of me. Slashing and cutting as it made its escape and finally leaving me empty. And that was that. The search for my mother had barely begun and ended at a sad little gravesite that nobody visited.

We walked back to the Lincoln but Joe didn’t start the car right away. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and tapped his finger against the leather cover. "They never got him." He glanced at me. "The man who killed Rose. Been a cold case for years." He peered through the windshield at a distant copse of pepper trees. "I asked your buddy Daniels to get me the file." He glanced at me. "What do you think about that?"

We locked eyes, and then I nodded slowly. "I think my mother deserves some justice. What do you think?"

Joe patted my hand. "I think we should get her some."

On the drive back, my mind spun with the revelation that I wasn’t an unwanted child. I was taken from a mother who loved me. So much that she searched for me until the day she died. It turned everything I’d ever thought about myself upside down. I didn’t have my mother, not really, but I wasn’t an unmoored ship drifting wherever the water sent me anymore either.

The sun was finger-painting the sky in pinks and purples when we got back to Joe’s. I was so wrapped up in thoughts of Rose, I’d forgotten the time. I had to hurry if I wanted to beat Ted home and avoid interrogation. "I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll come up with a plan."

Joe nodded and I turned toward my car. "Hold up, Scotti."

I looked at my watch. "I’m late Joe, and I still have to pick up Boomer."

"Hold your horses, missy." He waddled around the Lincoln. "I wasn’t going say nothing until later because I knew you’d need time to digest things." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to me. "Rose’s sister is alive and kicking." He tapped the paper in my hand. "Jennifer Scarpello. Lives up in Burbank, just a stone’s throw from here."

I stared at the piece of paper without opening it. "What did she say?"

Joe put his hand over mine. "I didn’t speak to the lady. She’s your kin. You decide what you want to do."

I hugged him tight and kissed his chubby cheek. "Thank you. My kids have the best granddaddy, ever."

Joe rolled his eyes and smacked my butt. "Oh hush now, smart alecky child. You better get a move on before Ted sends out a search party."

Boomer raced into the house ahead of me, yapping and wagging his stub. He circled the living room twenty times. Stopped and sniffed. Chased his tail. Sniffed. Got bored then ran into the kitchen.

Ted came up the hall from his office — jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up. He leaned down and kissed me. "You and Zelda get gabbing and forget the time?"

I shrugged. "You know Zelda." I scanned the room for Boomer. "And then crazy-beast is always fun on a car ride."

Ted broke into a grin. "Boomer’s home?"

At the sound of his name Boomer zoomed into the hallway and charged Ted. "Buddy!" He scooped up Boomer with one hand, then got treated to a face slather and a little dog pee on his tie. Ted carried Boomer through the living room and the dining room to the patio slider. "The first thing you need to learn in your orientation buddy, is the location of the latrine." He opened the slider and set Boomer down on the patio. Boomer yapped, wagged his stub and went off to sniff everything the new yard had to offer.

Ted followed me into the kitchen. Gingerly, he pulled off his tie. I took the tie out of his hand. "Trash or dry cleaners?"

"I never liked that tie anyway."

I dropped the tie in the waste basket. "Trash it is." I jerked my finger toward the front. "All of Boomer’s gear is in the car."

Ted slumped his shoulders and in a nerdy voice said, "Yes, dear."

While Ted took care of Boomer’s stuff, I started chili and cornbread dumplings for dinner. Leaving it to simmer on the stove, I ran upstairs to wash off the pie stink and change clothes. Winter was coming, and I looked down into the darkened yard from the window. Boomer was gleefully shadow skulking the hedges and giving them what for with an authoritative yap.

After my shower I pulled on my fatty pregnant after work clothes and a pair of Ted's thick cotton socks. Then the bed called to me with its soft pillows and fluffy comforter. I crawled under the covers and dropped like a stone into sleep.

When I awoke Ted and Boomer were on the bed smiling at me. Boomer snuggled next to my head and licked my ear. "What time is it?"

"Stay in bed, honey. You look beat."

I sat up. "No, I have chili on the stove.

"I turned it off."

I wriggled out of the bed and stood. "When?"

"An hour ago."

"Oh crap." I squinted at the clock. "You let me sleep for two hours?"

Ted locked his arms around my shoulders and rested his chin on my head. "Believe it or not, I know how to ladle chili into a bowl." He kissed my neck. "It was delicious. Get back in bed and I’ll bring you a bowl."

I pulled his arms away and frowned at him. "Why didn’t you wake me?"

"Because you looked so peaceful snoring and drooling, I didn’t want to disturb you."

I elbowed him. "I don’t snore." I headed for the door, wiping at the corners of my mouth. "And I definitely don’t drool."

Ted followed me downstairs to the kitchen and watched as I dropped corn dumpling batter on top of the chili. Boomer yapped at my feet. "It’s going to be yummy, huh Booms?"

"You don’t need the dumplings, the chili was awesome all by its lonesome." I put the lid on the pot and pulled up a stool at the butcher-block. "But I want the dumplings. You already had your dinner, so zip it." Boomer danced at my feet with hope in his eyes. "Did you feed Boomer?"

"Yes, dear."

I snapped a napkin at him. "I hate it when you say that. I’m not nagging you, I’m asking a simple question."

Ted tweaked my nose. "Yes, dear." He dodged the snapping napkin and poured me a glass of milk. "Drink your milk, honey."

I frowned at the chalky white liquid. "I don’t like plain milk. Do we have any chocolate?"

He lifted the glass to my lips. "It’s for the babies, not you." I sighed, and drank it down, then stuck out my tongue. Ted put the empty glass in the sink and said, "How was your talk with Joe?"

I growled. "Zelda ratted me out? That bitch."

He gave my braid a tug. "She tried to cover, but when I asked her to put you on the phone she caved."

I scratched my head. "How’d she know I was at Joe’s?" The timer buzzed, and I slid off my stool to turn off the burner. I lifted the lid to perfect little cornbread pillows covering fragrant chili. "Yum, yum." I glanced over my shoulder. "You sure you don’t want any?"

Ted brought two bowls to the stove and held them out. "Pretty soon, I’m going to look pregnant."

I ladled generous helpings of chili and dumplings into the bowls and Ted carried them back to the butcher-block. From the fridge I grabbed shredded cheddar, chopped onions, green chilies and sour cream. I sat down, snapped my napkin and lay it across my lap. "Okay, babies, here it comes."

Ted watched as I added all the extra fixings, making a mound of delicious saturated fat and heat. "Are we sure there are only two babies in there?"

I shoveled chili and dumplings into my mouth like my life depended on it. "I’m not sure of anything." I looked up from my bowl. "I’m not working on the Atkinson case if that’s what you’re getting at." I frowned remembering that Joe mentioned the case earlier without saying anything about it when I saw him. Ted prodded me with his eyebrows and I rolled my eyes. "Honey, I love you but you’re the nosiest man I ever knew."

Ted curled his lip. "Scotti this isn’t a joke. And it’s not about me needing to know what you do every minute of the day. I’m not some hormonal teenager trying to put his brand on you." He threw up his arms. "You’re pregnant. With twins. You don’t think that’s on my mind all day long, while you’re rambling around in that food truck? There’s plenty that can go wrong in a regular pregnancy but with twins it ups the ante. So excuse me if I’m interested in where my pregnant wife is and what she’s doing."

I glared at him. "You act like I’m bounding off buildings and saving orphans all day long. We’re just selling pie for cripes sake." I huffed. "You think I don’t know that I’m carrying twins? Like that’s news to me? You think I’d intentionally put our babies at risk?"