Home Sweet Homicide: A Cozy Mystery (A Gemma Stone Murder Mystery Book 5) (9 page)

The high pitched shrieking ended abruptly and Gemma smiled. “It was just the tea kettle.”

A smile lit up Ross’s face. The first one Gemma had seen since he arrived.

“Tea kettle,” he said.

Gemma nodded, biting back her laughter, but it was useless. By the time Maisy showed up with a proper serving tray of teacups and saucers, they were giggling hysterically. She looked from one to the other, smiling, and finally placed the tray on the coffee table. With hands on her hips, she waited for an explanation. Gemma tried to explain what they were laughing about but every time she did the funnier it became.

At last, holding her sides, gasping for breath, Gemma explained that they both thought the tea kettle whistling was sirens. That sent them into gales of laughter with Aunt Maisy joining in this time.

When they had settled down somewhat, Aunt Maisy, still in charge of the tea service, poured steaming tea out of a delicate white pitcher into matching cups. Gemma hadn’t seen that tea service in years, had almost forgotten it existed. It brought back memories of her and her mother, sharing tea and stories.

Maisy handed one cup to Ross and one to Gemma and then sat back, watching the two of them. “Drink up. The tea will soothe you,” she said.

Gemma held her cup up to her face. The steam felt good against her cheeks and she inhaled deeply, recognizing the aroma of chamomile and something else she couldn’t quite name. She glanced at Ross who looked like he was having a tea party with little girls. The cup in his hand looked small and even more delicate. She’d seen him drink plenty of coffee but never tea.

“It’s good,” Gemma assured her aunt. “Special blend?”

Aunt Maisy nodded.

Ross sipped the hot liquid carefully.

With a satisfied smile, Aunt Maisy stood up. “It’s late. I’ll leave you two alone and head off to bed,” she said.

“Aunt Maisy you don’t have to...”

“Sweet dreams,” her aunt said with a smile over her shoulder as she left the room, the cat trailing silently behind her.

Gemma kept her eyes on her cup. She didn’t want to be alone with Ross. Mixed up with all the hurt and questions and anger was a desire she hadn’t felt in a long time. Since the last time he’d kissed her. She wanted to feel his arms around her again and taste his kiss, but Katie and what had happened stood between them as if she was right there in the room, not in the county morgue.

“So will you help me find out who killed Katie?” Ross asked, cutting into her thoughts.

Gemma cleared her throat and placed her cup on the coffee table. It rattled only a little bit. “If we can get our hands on the evidence Gilmore has against you. Somehow find a way to use it to ferret out the real killer.”

“I have a couple of guys that I think will help me. We just can’t be seen together. I don’t want to jeopardize their position in the department,” Ross said.

“What if they talked to Nick?” Gemma asked.

“Good idea. At least it would be a plausible cover. Would he...? I mean are you still...?”

Gemma chuckled. “Nick and I have been friends since we were children. No matter what happens or has happened between us as adults, we’re still friends. I’ll call him.”

While she retrieved her phone from her purse and keyed in Nick’s number, Ross relaxed back into the sofa. He closed his eyes, appearing to be relaxing for the first time since he’d arrived. Maybe her aunt was right about the tea.

“Gemma,” Nick said.

“Yeah, hey, Nick, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” Gemma said.

“No, I was just putting the finishing touches on a story,” Nick said. “Remember last Valentine’s Day when...”

Gemma’s breath caught in her throat.

“I’m sorry. When cupid got killed at the resort?”

“Yes,” Gemma whispered and then regained her composure and her voice. “Yes, I remember.”

“Well, I’m thinking about writing a book about it,” Nick said, his voice filled with excitement.

“That’s a great idea,” Gemma said.

Nick went on to tell her about his ideas for the book and how he would change some things, including names. Finally he paused to take a breath.

“Nick, could I get you to do me a favor?”

“Sure, what do you need?” he asked.

“Could I get you to talk to some of the officers involved in the investigation of Katie’s murder? Find out what evidence Gilmore has gathered against Ross?” Gemma asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, I’ve been talking to the first two officers on the scene pretty regularly anyway. Gilmore has Ross in his sights and I don’t think he’s looking any further. They’re watching his apartment,” Nick warned her.

“Ross didn’t kill Katie Mack,” Gemma said, glancing at the big, dark haired man slumped on her sofa. His chest rose and fell evenly. She thought he must be simply exhausted.

“Tell you what. I’ll get as much additional information as I can, come by your house in the morning and lay it out for you,” Nick suggested.

“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” Gemma said. “Please be careful. I don’t want you to jeopardize your relationship with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Nick told her and ended the call.

Ross had slid sideways onto the sofa cushions. Gemma hurried upstairs, grabbed a pillow and blanket out of the hall closet and returned only to hear him snoring softly.

“Ross,” she whispered, placing the pillow under his head gently. “Ross, I brought you a pillow.”

“Um-hmmm,” he breathed and turned so that he was stretched out in a more comfortable position on the sofa.

Gemma covered him with the blanket, wishing she had something for him to sleep in besides his clothes.

“Gemma,” he said softly, reaching out to catch her wrist.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you” he said, pulling her closer.

For a split second, Gemma imagined herself crawling onto the sofa beside him, curling up under than blanket and... Heat rushed through her, making her knees weak. Better yet, lead him up to her room.

“I knew I could count on you,” Ross muttered, the end of the sentence trailing off as he drifted back into sleep.

Gemma didn’t reply. Instead, she hurried back up to her room, quickly changed into shorts and a tank top and crawled into bed. Just knowing Ross was sleeping soundly on her sofa was enough to put a smile on her face...for now.

G
emma awoke early and the first thing on her mind was Ross sleeping downstairs. If they didn’t find additional evidence and prove Ross’s innocence, Gilmore was going to make sure Ross was indicted for Katie’s murder. She crawled out of bed and tiptoed quietly across the wooden floor to the window, wondering why in the world Gilmore would want Ross out of the way. Jealousy?

As if thinking had made it so, Gilmore’s bright blue car cruised by slowly on the street and she wondered if he somehow knew Ross was at her house. Perhaps he was just expecting Ross to show up. 

The car came to a halt, two houses down and Gilmore climbed out.  She could see his lime green shirt before she saw anything else.  He circled the car, again, as if checking for scratches and then she saw him pull a cloth out of his pocket and buff some imaginary speck off of the front fender.

It occurred to her that maybe he was watching her as well and she just hadn’t realized it before now. With that thought on her mind, she hurried down the stairs, her bare feet not making a sound on the stairs. Ross was just starting to stir. She raced past him toward the kitchen. The kitchen light was on and her Aunt Maisy was just getting the coffee started.

“Good morning,” Gemma whispered, giving her aunt a hug.

“Good morning, to you,” Aunt Maisy whispered back. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Gemma told her. “That tea certainly did the trick.”

For some reason, her aunt seemed disappointed at that news. “Hmmm,” was all she said.

“I think our guest will be up soon,” Gemma told her.

“I hope he likes French toast,” Maisy replied, opening the refrigerator and retrieving eggs.

“Aunt Maisy, you don’t have to keep buying food and cooking like this...”

“Hush. Go set the table.” A smile softened her aunt’s words and Gemma scurried about setting the table for three.

“Do I smell coffee?” Ross’s deep voice rumbled through the kitchen, making Gemma’s breath catch in her throat.

“You do,” Aunt Maisy said, nodding toward the coffee pot.

“With bacon and French toast to follow,” Gemma told him, noting that his hair was even more tousled than when he had arrived the night before. His chin darkened with more stubble and she thought he was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen right at that moment.

“Do I have time for a shower?”

“Absolutely,” Aunt Maisy said.

Gemma led Ross back through the living room to the guest bathroom. In the small bathroom, she pulled a fresh towel out of the linen closet and placed it near the sink. “Sorry, but I think we only have girlie hair and bath products here,” Gemma told him.

He leaned against the door, arms across his chest, grinning. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“True,” Gemma said, suddenly realizing she was trapped in the tiny space with him.

“I like your outfit,” he said. “Leaves so little to the imagination.”

At that point, Gemma remembered she was wearing the shorts and tank top she’d slept in. The shorts were too short to wear out in public and the thin fabric of the tank top hid very little. “Oops,” she said edging toward the door

Ross held his ground. “You know the cops are watching your house?”

Gemma nodded. The room was unbearably hot. “I saw one go by this morning.”

“Were they watching it before?”

Gemma shrugged. “I don’t know. If they were, I didn’t notice.”

“They might have realized they lost me and think you’ll lead them to me. Maybe I should get out of here.”

“No,” Gemma said, much too quickly. “I mean, after we get all the evidence they’ve collected from Nick, I’ll need you to help me interpret it.”

Ross chuckled and finally stepped aside, giving her just enough room to get past him. “I’ve seen your detective work, young lady. And you always manage to get yourself into a world of trouble.”

Gemma laughed and moved closer with the intent of leaving him alone. Just being close to him set her heart racing. He reached out to stop her and placed a finger under her chin. Gently, he tipped her head back and kissed her. His kiss was warm and tender, and Gemma felt herself wanting to melt against him, cling to those broad shoulders and let desire sweep her away.

“Sorry, I just had to do that,” he said, his voice husky.

Gemma watched him lick his lips like a hungry wolf and practically bolted from the room. Back upstairs she grabbed the first thing she came to, her bathrobe, and pulled it on. A quick glance out of the window told her the police car was sitting about two houses down. If they were watching her house or waiting for Ross to show up, they weren’t trying to keep it a secret.

In the kitchen, Aunt Maisy had just finished with the bacon and was starting on the French toast. A knock on the back door surprised her and she opened it to find Nick standing there.

“You’re early,” she said, beckoning for him to come inside.

“Thought you’d be eager to know what I found out,” he said with a grin.

Gemma realized he hadn’t met her aunt and made the introductions.

“I didn’t even know your mom had a sister,” he said. “And obviously she’s a dynamite cook,” he added, sniffing the air.

“I hadn’t seen her since we left California when I was little,” Gemma explained. “She found me.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Nick said.

“Nick is one of my oldest and dearest friends,” Gemma explained to her aunt. “We went all through school together.”

“I’d do anything for my girl,” he assured Maisy, putting one arm around Gemma’s shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

Ross chose that moment to enter the room. Hair still wet from his shower, he wore nothing but the jeans he’d had on the night before. “Nick,” he said.

Nick looked from Gemma in her robe to Ross obviously freshly out of the shower. And there was Gemma caught between the two of them yet again. At least this time there was no awkwardness, just an uncomfortable silence.

“Please sit down,” Aunt Maisy said before he either of them could comment. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“I’ll get Nick a plate,” Gemma said, thankful for something to do as the two men sat down at the wooden table across from each other.

“Why are the cops watching my house?” Gemma asked, when she finally sat down at the table between the two.

“Thinking you might know something or can lead them to more evidence,” Nick told her.

“And speaking of evidence...?” Ross let the question dangle between them.

Aunt Maisy sat down across from Gemma. “Eat,” she instructed.

The men were quiet for a while, except to compliment Maisy on her delicious French toast. It had a delightful, sweet crust of brown sugar and butter, with hints of vanilla and cinnamon in every bite. While they ate, they made small talk. Gemma told Nick about their shop and what a surprise it was that Natalie Sparrow showed up right when they were talking about hiring someone to help run it.

“So you already have an employee?” Nick asked. “Sparrow. From Louisa? Opal’s sister?”

“The very one. It’s not official but, we think she’ll be a good fit,” Gemma told him.

He looked doubtful.

“She’s going to Elizabeth Bailey, studying business administration. And she needs the money.”

“You don’t know her,” Nick argued.

“I know enough. She’ll be perfect and we’re thinking she might bring in a younger crowd.”

“Evidence,” Ross said, reminding them he was there.

“Oh, yeah,” Nick said with a smile.

All eyes turned to him as he hesitated and glanced at Aunt Maisy.

“It’s okay,” Gemma assured him. “My aunt is up to speed on everything, pretty much. She can hear this as well.”

“Okay. Well, one of the first officers on the scene, Bailor, has been relegated to front desk duty until this case is solved. He argued with Gilmore’s conclusion. That was enough to shut the rest of them down,” Nick announced.