Read Pineapple Lies Online

Authors: Amy Vansant

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Humor

Pineapple Lies (13 page)

Declan looked away, focusing on the steady ticking of his kitchen wall clock.

Breathe.

After a moment, he released his fists and sat down. Seamus sat as well.

“I want to see the autopsy report,” said Declan.

“Frank plans on sharing the full report with you tomorrow,” said Charlotte. Her voice sounded timid. Declan realized his behavior must have taken her by surprise.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding a lifted palm towards her. “I’m sorry if I upset you. It’s been a weird couple of days and I nearly took it out on the wrong person. I’m sorry to you, too, Seamus.”

“No worries,” said Seamus, patting Declan’s knee. “I understand more than you know.”

“Touching the knee is pushing it.”

Seamus withdrew his hand. “Sorry.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” said Charlotte. “For what it is worth, you’ll know everything in the report tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t really need a report to tell me she was dead. I knew it.”

He stared at the floor for a moment and then looked up at her.

“Sorry. Go on. Anything else?”

“They found a chip in her rib that could have been caused by the bullet.”

“So that rules out Al, too,” said Seamus.

“Probably. But there was one odd thing. They said there was a bunch of scratching around the chip.”

Seamus scowled. “What does that mean? What kind of scratching?”

“Frank didn’t know. He said there was a sizeable chip missing and scratching that didn’t look like it was related to the bullet striking the rib.”

“Something that happened over the years?” asked Declan. “What about that dog?”

“Katie mouthed her jaw and skull, but they didn’t uncover the rest of the body until long after she was locked up next door.”

“I wish they’d offered some ideas about what caused it. I can’t help but think that’s an important detail.”

“They didn’t know and Frank didn’t speculate.”

Declan sighed.

“So, do you want me out?” asked Seamus. “I understand if you do. I can get a room somewhere until I find a place.”

“No,” said Declan, deflated, his anger gone. “It’s a lot to take in. Maybe you and Mom would have been great together. I don’t know. I was a kid. This whole situation is just bringing old frustrations to the surface. I’m sure you did what you could.”

“I did. It’s what drove me to work with the police in Miami. I never stopped asking questions, but I never found anything that led me to your mother. Part of me thought maybe she just…”

As Seamus trailed off Declan saw his uncle’s eyes shining wet with tears.

“You thought she might have left you?”

Seamus nodded and wiped his eyes on the back of his arm.

“Yeah. I thought maybe the other guy had talked her into running away with him.”

Declan nodded. “Sometimes I thought she left without me, too.”

Seamus sniffed. “Are we supposed to hug now?”

“We can skip it.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have more information for you,” said Charlotte.

“Oh, I appreciate everything you’ve done, you’ve been great,” said Declan. “Sorry about our behavior.”

“Especially the sappy stuff,” added Seamus.

“Maybe once you read the whole report you’ll see something that rings a bell.”

“Yep,” said Seamus, standing and slapping his belly. “If there are two things I learned in the life, it’s that they never make it easy for you.”

“What’s the second thing?” asked Charlotte.

“Never try to bathe a cat.”

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

“Well,” said Seamus, looking at his watch. “I have a date. Gotta go.”

“You have a date?” asked Declan. “You’ve barely been here for twenty-four hours. How can you have a date?”

“Actually, it’s with someone from your neck of the swamp,” he said, looking at Charlotte.

“From Pineapple Port? It’s got to be nearly nine. No one there is awake at this hour.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

“Would it
kill
you to put that in the trash?” asked Declan looking at the bottle his uncle had left on the table.

“Who is it?’ asked Charlotte. “You
have
to tell me who it is.”

Seamus opened the front door, caressing it with his fingers.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” he said in a low, sexy tone. Seamus winked and closed the door behind him.

Charlotte looked at Declan.

“Did he just feel up your door?”

“That
was
unsettling.”

She mulled Seamus’ oddness a moment longer.

“Do you know who it is?”

“Who?”

“His date!”

“No. He said he had a thing for older ladies, but that was about it.”

“I bet it was Jackie. They were canoodling outside the meeting. Damn. If I brought this gossip to Mariska and Darla they’d bake me muffins for a month.”

Declan laughed. “I promise to tell you as soon as he tells me, but I demand twenty percent of the muffin haul.”

“Ten.”

“Fine.”

“Yea! Thank you.”

Charlotte clapped her hands with glee, but stopped when she detected Declan’s smirk.

She nodded towards the front door. “Are you two close?”

“Seamus and me?” Declan’s crooked the corner of his mouth, causing a dimple to flash to life. “Funny you should ask after how we acted tonight.”

“It was a
little
tense there for a second. I was afraid I’d have to dive out of the way to avoid becoming collateral damage.”

“We wouldn’t have swung at each other.” He swirled his wine and watched it kiss the lip of his glass. “Probably.”

Charlotte pictured the men squaring off in her mind. Part of her found it thrilling. The way Declan’s arms flexed as he clenched his fists, the little bulge along his jaw line as he grit his teeth…
When had this primal urge to watch men fight developed?
The emotion in the room had erupted so suddenly. It was as if Declan had morphed from a smooth, cool vampire into a snarling werewolf at the first sign of trouble.

The muscle in Declan’s biceps twitched as he swirled his wine.

Charlotte wanted to touch it.

She felt her face grow warm and she looked away, certain that he could read her mind and worried her thoughts were moving from PG-13 to R.

Am I under obligation to give him a parental warning?

Every time she saw Declan he seemed more attractive. Maybe she was just thrilled to find someone who wasn’t thrown at her by one of the Pineapple matchmakers. While she’d often daydreamed about bumping into a handsome stranger at the food store, she’d never imagined she’d meet someone over a grave. Especially one in her back yard.

Declan moved to sit down and she snapped back to the issue at hand. Namely, Declan’s
hands
. She was staring at them. They were so perfect; long and tipped with buffed, manicured nails that said, “Hi there, I take pride in my appearance.” They combined nicely with his old khaki shorts, which added, “not that I’m vain or anything” to the conversation. What if he had swung that beautiful hand at Seamus?
He might have broken a knuckle.
What if they’d started grappling and he got all rumpled and sweaty. What if he’d had to take off his shirt…

“Are you counting something?” said Declan.

Charlotte realized she’d starting ticking on her fingers how many months it had been since her last date. She’d hit seven by the time Declan interrupted.

“Uh…” Charlotte grabbed her glass from the table to keep her hands still.

“No,” she said, the number nine screaming in her head.

Nine? Really?

“I —”

And how long since

Declan’s tawny-speckled eyes locked on her as he waited for an explanation. She liked the little divot above his lip.
What was that called?
She’d have to look it up. She liked the way that divot created the inverted arch in the center of his lip, and the way the curve echoed the curve on either side of his mouth. Why hadn’t she ever noticed that little divot on anyone’s face before?
He wasn’t the only one who had one, was he?

She casually touched her finger to her own upper lip to be sure she had that arch as well.

She did.

That’s good
.

It would be difficult to find a self-help group for people without lip arches.

“Sorry,” she said. “My mind wandered.”

“That happens a lot with you.”

Charlotte took a sip of her wine to drown the strange googily feeling in her stomach and chest.

“About you and Seamus,” she said, straining to return to their conversation. “I meant, did you keep in touch?”

“On and off. Not long after Mom disappeared he offered to take me Miami, but he couldn’t really afford a kid. I think he was counting on Mom’s insurance to help, but the insurance company delayed it for years. No body.”

“So your grandmother raised you.”

“Yep.”

“Sounds like we have that in common. Well, first my real grandmother and then grandmothers by proxy.”

“That’s right, you never explained to me how you ended up the youngest girl in Pineapple Port. But first, can I get you some more wine?”

Charlotte looked at her glass, surprised to find it empty.

“Sure. Thank you. I’m not keeping you up am I?”

Declan laughed. “It isn’t even nine yet.”

“Sometimes I forget not everyone goes to bed at sundown.”

Declan filled her glass and splashed a bit in his own.

“Okay. Tell me your tale.”

“Well, there isn’t much to tell…” She stared at the freshened wine. She wanted to pick it up.
Was it too soon?
How long should I let it sit before I can start drinking again without appearing desperate for it?
She wanted something to do with her hands…

Uh oh.

Declan was looking at her again with that expectant and oddly penetrating glance.

“Um…well, my father died when I was a baby. My mother died when I was eleven. Cancer. I ended up with my grandmother in Pineapple Port. Then she died not long after that.”

“But who took care of you?”

“Pineapple Port. Mostly Mariska and Darla. Mariska was my grandmother’s best friend.”

“One of them adopted you?”

“Not officially. I think Frank handled the details, shuffled some paperwork. I’m not sure. They arranged it so I could continue living in my grandmother’s house, but when I was younger I slept over at Mariska’s quite a bit. It was like having a mom who lived next door.”

“Huh. On your own that young. I bet a lot of kids dream about that.”

“Probably. Too bad I was a pretty good kid. I didn’t take advantage of the situation the way I should have. I decorated the house to my fourteen-year-old tastes, of course.”

“Ah, right, I remember,” said Declan, grinning.

“I know, I know…you said it looked like a dorm.”

“It just lacked a certain…sophistication?”

Charlotte laughed.

“You’re right. You’re totally right. And to think you didn’t even go down the hallway to experience it in all its glory. You should see my bedroom.”

Did I just say that?

Charlotte grabbed her wine glass and took a sip. Her eyes darted around Declan’s home; focusing anywhere but on him.

It was a nice house, with a high ceiling in the main living area and an open concept. It looked too new for it to be his childhood home.

“Did you live here with your grandmother?”

“No. She lived in Tampa. After she died I came back here and bought this place.”

“Why would you come back to Charity? I mean, I know we have a nice new food store now, but…it isn’t exactly a hotbed of culture and entertainment.”

“Seamus’ ex-business partner at the pawnshop died and I took over. Plus, it’s cheaper here.”

“That’s true.”

“And something was drawing me back anyway. Roots. Maybe nostalgia.”

“Maybe you wanted to be here in case your mom ever returned.”

Charlotte froze. She’d expressed her opinion before thinking it through; Declan hadn’t asked her to psychoanalyze him, especially with the blow of his mother’s confirmed death still so raw.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s okay,” said Declan. “You’re probably right.”

He leaned forward to retrieve the television remote.

“You want to watch a movie or something?”

She heard the chatter of commercials blaring through the surround sound speakers as he adjusted the volume. She sighed. She’d upset him and now he needed distraction from her.

“There might be something on the movie channels,” he said, flipping to the guide. “I can’t do anything streaming right now. For some reason my so-called smart TV doesn’t have any sound when I try and use the smart features. Not through the surround sound, anyway.”

“I should probably go,” she said.

“Not a movie buff?”

“No, it isn’t that… Wait; did you say you can’t get sound when you use the smart TV features?”

“Yeah. It’s a new and I haven’t figured it all out yet.”

“Do you have an optical cable?”

Declan knit his brow. “I think so…”

She put down her glass and walked to the cabinet next to the television where the electronics sat. One side of the cabinet was open to allow Declan to use his remote, the other, closed. She opened the closed side and knelt down in front of it.

“Do you mind if I look?”

“I guess not…”

Charlotte turned the cable box sideways and studied the back of it. She followed a cord with her fingers and saw that it led to the stereo system that ran the surround sound.

“See this?”

Declan knelt beside her and peered into the cabinet, their faces close. His otherwise subtle shaving scent filled the small cabinet area. She wished she’d remembered to wear perfume. She never remembered to do that.

“That’s the optical cable, right?” he asked.

“Right. That’s the problem.”

“But it worked before.”

Their lips were so close Charlotte could lick his nose. As soon as that thought popped into her mind, it became almost impossible
not
to lick his nose.

“It worked with the old TV, I mean,” he added, his voice suddenly much softer.

Charlotte swallowed.

“Thing is,” she said, also speaking softly in the tight space. “You’ve got it leading directly from the sound system to the cable box, so it isn’t working with the television directly. The smart TV needs that.”

“Really?”

Declan leaned farther in to see.

Both of them were on their hands and knees, side by side. His hip grazed hers and then bounced away. A second later, it returned, lightly pressing against her own hip. There it remained.

The phrase
joined at the hip
ping-ponged through her mind. She’d never enjoyed that phrase so much.

“You need the cable to go from the sound system directly to the television. Watch.”

Charlotte reached in to pluck the optical cable from the back of the cable box, but lost her balance and fell against Declan. He lifted a hand to steady her, his palm resting against her hipbone, his fingers brushing her waist.

“Easy there,” he said.

“Sorry,” she said, flashing a quick smile. She watched as a tiny bead of sweat appeared at Declan’s hairline and began its travels down his brow.

“The equipment gives off a lot of heat,” she said.

He leaned back and wiped his brow.

“Yes. I wonder if that’s normal.”

Charlotte pulled the optical cable towards the television connection.

“Good thing you have an extra-long cable. I think we’re going to make it.”

“Uh…good.”

He cleared his throat.

Declan pulled the television away from the wall to grant her access to the ports on the opposite side. She strained to reach while he stood beside her and held the stand to keep the television from toppling. She felt a warm breeze on her chest. The television sat on a mantle above a fireplace, and she stood on the low hearth to reach the back cable ports. This put her breasts at eye level with Declan as he steadied the television and she leaned towards him. She could feel his breath between her breasts.

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