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Pro picked at the plate of Pasta Primavera her mother had made. The first bottle of wine was more than half-empty, and the glass in front of Elisha was as full as when it had been poured.
Pro’s glass was empty.
“You should eat, honey,” Elisha worried.
The room was still amass with flowers, but during the day, Elisha had trimmed back the flora and had organized it so at least they had a table to eat at.
“I can’t believe he followed me,” Pro muttered. She took the bottle and refilled her glass. She looked at her hands, which had finally stopped shaking. Struggling to get her weapon had rushed so much adrenaline through her system that it had taken time to calm down. “Where does he get off following me? Then texting me with a blocked-off number so I have no way to trace his phone?”
“He probably planned on that, honey. And as far as following you, I think he wants to help you find the real killer.”
“Doesn’t matter. As of tomorrow, Tom is taking us off the case. He’s asking the LT to reassign us.”
“That’s a pity.”
“It’s a necessity. I can see that now,” Pro said and gulped down a large mouthful of the wine. “I thought I could help because I knew some of the victims, and I thought I knew about magic. Turns out, it’s better if the detective’s father isn’t the number-one suspect in multiple murders.”
“Your father didn’t kill anyone!” Elisha exclaimed.
“His wallet was on the night stand!” Pro responded. “Okay, I had his credit cards and phone, but not the wallet. How do you explain that?”
“Well, obviously I can’t, but that doesn’t mean—”
“And escaping. He broke out of jail, and he planned to do it. That’s even worse!” Pro polished off her glass and refilled it as Elisha took a tentative sip from her own.
“But what about what your father texted you, abo
ut going through those coded emails?”
“It is not my case anymore,” Pro said. “That way if he gets his ass shot, I won’t feel like Oedipus.”
“I believe Oedipus married his mother.”
“Ew. Okay, I won’t feel like…whoever the Greek lady was who killed her father.”
“I don’t think I know that one…”
“The point is, it’s not my fault if he gets his ass shot,” Pro said and emptied her wine glass in one long swallow.
“Honey, you should slow down. And I think you should eat a little something,” Elisha fretted.
Pro looked at the empty bottle. “And I think it is time I opened another bottle.”
She rose to her feet a little unsteadily and pulled out the second bottle from the bag. Elisha sighed, but Pro didn’t turn around. Instead she bowed her head and her shoulders began to heave.
“Honey, are you crying?”
“No,” Pro blubbered, unmoving. “Could I please have a tissue?”
Elisha got up and grabbed a foil box of tissues and held them out for her daughter. Pro grabbed a handful and crushed the paper to her mouth to stifle another shuddering sob.
Elisha pulled her daughter close. “There, there now.”
Pro raised her head, tears on her face. “Why’d he have to come now, of all times?”
“What do you mean, my sweet girl?”
