Page 70 of Little Last Words
Whitlock shrugged. “She would have found out anyway. Aaron is at the police station now. He’s telling Foley what he told you this morning.”
I’d made a mess of things, and even though it wasn’t my mess to begin with, I was caught up in all of it. Part of me felt bad. The other part, well …didn’t. Zachary should have thought through the repercussions of kissing Penelope and declaring his love to her. Under the dark cloak of night, he’d made an error in judgment, an error that proved to have more than just a little bite in the end.
The front door opened, and a bundle of socks was hurled through the air, falling to the grass like fluffy bits of shrapnel. I waited for the door to close again. It didn’t. Instead, Vanessa stepped out, squinted in my direction, and then lifted a finger, saying, “You.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all,” Whitlock joked.
She followed it up with, “You, get over here.”
Whitlock and I exchanged glances.
“You heard the woman,” he said. “Better go see what she wants. And you know, best of luck. I dare say you’re going to need it.”
As I walked toward the house, I heard laughter behind me. For whatever reason, Whitlock found the situation amusing. Maybe he was right to laugh. Maybe it was the punishment I deserved for not informing Foley about the information I had before he heard it from someone else. No matter what happened next, I didn’t look at it as punishment. The way I saw it, they didn’t have their foot in Vanessa’s door.Idid.
I made my way up the front steps, and Vanessa swung the door all the way open, shutting and locking it the moment I stepped inside. She was, in a word, disheveled. Her long, brown hair had come almost all the way out of the loose bun on top of her head. Her glasses were on crooked, and streaks of eyeliner dotted her face.
“I’m guessing we can skip the part where I introduce myself,” I said.
“I know who you are,” she said. “I’ve been following the case. I know the DuPonts hired you, and I know you spoke to my husband today.”
“You’re correct.”
She moved her hands to her hips, blew a chunk of hair out of her face, and glared at me. “Do women even care about girl code anymore?”
“Excuse me?”
“You knew this morning that Zachary kissed Penelope, followed by professing his undying love for her, I’ve been told. Instead of coming to me and talking to me about it first, you went to him. Why?”
“I wanted to know why he’d said what he said and did what he did. Once we talked, I gave him two hours to tell you, or I said I would tell you myself.”
She backed against the wall and crossed her arms, tears forming in her eyes as she said, “You did?”
“You bet I did. Trust me, I girl code the hell out of girl code. I wouldn’t have kept it from you. I need you to understand I’m working a case here. Every decision I make is based around it.”
She went silent for a time and then said, “Hey, would you like a drink? I know I could use one.”
“I’m fine, but you go right ahead.”
She swished a hand through the air. “Ahh, it’s okay. I don’t like drinking alone. It’ll just make me feel like a bigger loser than I already am.”
“You’renota loser.”
I reconsidered my decision, the old saying about alcohol and loose lips springing to mind. A bit of booze might go a long way in this situation.
“What are we drinking?” I asked.
She perked up. “Are you fine with chardonnay?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She invited me to follow her to the living room, poured us a couple of drinks, and sat on a chair next to me. We clanked glasses, and she said, “Here’s to standing up for myself.”
She downed half the glass and smiled.
“Are you feeling any better?” I asked.
“Yeah, I just … I thought Zachary was the kind of guy who would never cheat on me, you know?”