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“What-ev.” Luna rolled her eyes. “Here, take a look at this.” She opened the wooden box. “It has some flyers, ticket stubs, and coins that look like they came from a carnival or something.”
Gaines peered into the box and moved a few of the memorabilia around with his pen. “I don’t suppose you used gloves when you opened the letter?”
Cullen’s face dropped. “It hadn’t occurred to me because I didn’t know it was going to be anonymous.”
“Good point,” Gaines replied.
“Do you think you can lift some prints off any of this?” Luna pointed to the contents.
“I could,” Gaines said. “But why? Do you want me to run them through AIFIS?” He was half joking, referring to the fingerprint data system.
“Could you?” Luna’s eyes widened.
“Not unless we believe a crime has been committed,” Gaines informed her.
“But what if there was but we don’t know it yet?” Luna asked, hoping he would oblige.
“I’ll tell you what. You put the pieces of this puzzle together, and we’ll review it.”
“Are you pulling my leg?” Luna asked.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m serious. I know how your mind works and the rest of that woo-woo stuff.” He made a circular gesture in front of her.
“Deal?” Luna put out her hand for him to shake.
“Deal.” Gaines shook her hand. “Maybe you’ll have some info when you come out to Charlotte.”
Luna thought carefully. “We’ll have a lot of ground to cover between this and your renovation. Besides, I don’t know how much info I’ll have by then.”
“Well, we’ll just save your project until after you’re done with mine. How’s that?” Gaines asked.
“Sounds like averygood plan.” Luna was elated. They now had two projects to work on together.Any excuse to spend time with him.And Gaines felt the same way about her.
Gaines looked at his watch. “I’ve got to hit the road.” He turned to Cullen. “Thanks again, man, for putting me up at your place last night.”
“Any time,” Cullen replied, but Luna had her own ideas about future sleepovers. She was going to have one at Gaines’s house in a couple of weeks. She got all goofy thinking about it.
Chapter Eight
The next day
Tori got up before her husband and made him two of his favorite sandwiches, being mindful to go easy on the mayo. Heaven forbid he make a mess in front of his coworkers, or even worse, in the squad car. She put on a pot of coffee, took a quick shower, and got ready for work.
He came ambling out of the bedroom looking like his hair had gotten caught in an eggbeater. She smiled. It reminded her of when they were younger, would make love in the morning, and she would ruffle his hair. She missed those days of feeling free and having a future ahead. It hadn’t turned out exactly as she had hoped. Not even close. Once Brendon had been born, everything changed. She was more or less tied to the house except when she was working, and her husband kept to his routine and his social life. She didn’t think it was reasonable that he could hang out with his friends and she was stuck at home. Not that she had many friends, but there didn’t seem to be a fair division of child-rearing, diaper changing, laundry, shopping, cooking, and cleaning. It was as if she was stuck in the 1950s.But even June Cleaver had the garden club.
She thought about being pregnant and having a baby at thirty-eight. It wouldn’t be easy. By the time the kid was twelve, she would be fifty, and most likely, she would be the oldest member of the PTA. She reminded herself that many women were having children later in life, so maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t feel like an old lady. But that was years ahead.
Her thoughts ran back to when she was younger and imagining things were “years ahead.” But years fly by, and before you know it, you’re stretching your arms in order to read the instructions on a bottle of aspirin. She wasn’t quite there yet, but she had a few acquaintances slightly older than she was who were carrying around “cheaters.” She did a little research and discovered it usually starts to happen around age forty. She sighed.Great. I’ll be squinting to read the labels on the jars of baby food.If only she had family to help out. Someone to talk to. The law firm was a comfortable environment, but as of now, she wasn’t sure if she could discuss her deepest personal matters. She also knew that her pregnancy would become obvious. Her reverie was interrupted by her husband scraping the chair along the floor. “You’re up early.”
“I made you lunch.” She handed him the brown bag that contained two sandwiches, a bottle of water, an apple, and two oatmeal cookies.
He peeked inside. “Wow. Thanks for lunch, Mommy.”
She caught her breath.How could he know?She quickly regrouped and chuckled. “I’m sure your mommy never made lunch for you.”
“You got that right. I think she made me a cheese sandwich once. Probably something left over from the roadhouse where she worked.”
“Well, you enjoy your lunch, sonny,” she teased him.
