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“Sure.” After identifying Wolfgang’s charred remains last night before Doc drove me home, my worries about Kelly’s psychosis had faded. Although, not entirely. “Jeff, is Kelly okay?”
There was a hushed pause from his end.
I continued, “With her therapy … well, after her therapy … assuming she is done with therapy,” I took a breath, untied my tongue, and started again. “I saw the collage of Missing Girl pictures in your bedroom when I was there last.” Another lie, but if Doc hadn’t showed up, I would have seen it, so close enough.
“Right, that.” Jeff’s voice sounded tired. “The counselor thought it would be a good idea for her to put that together.”
“Did it help?”
“I don’t know.”
There was one other question that I cringed at the thought of asking, but now that I knew Jeff wasn’t the kidnapper, I needed to hear the answer. “Why did you throw a garbage bag of Emma’s stuff in that Dumpster at Jackpot Gas-n-Go?”
“Wow, you don’t miss much, do you?”
I waited quietly, hoping I hadn’t pushed too far.
“Emma had been staying at our house the weekend she was kidnapped. With all of the commotion after she disappeared, everybody forgot about the clothes and sleeping bag she’d left at our place. By the time things had quieted down, Donna and I didn’t know what to do with the stuff. A few weeks later, Kelly built a weird little shrine with it all in her bedroom, along with candles and pictures, and I knew I had to get rid of it in order to help her move on with life. If Kelly had seen that stuff in the trash, she would have flipped out, so I just bagged it and took it to the gas station.”
“Oh.” Here I’d conjured up a much darker, more sinister explanation. My father would tell me there was a lesson in this—something about not sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. “How is Kelly now that you got rid of Emma’s stuff? Is she moving on?”
Another pause. “I’ll be straight with you. If you’re asking if I think Kelly has some nutty hang-ups still, then yeah, I do. But she hasn’t cried herself to sleep since she started spending time with your kid, and she’s eating again instead of just picking at her food.”
My heart twanged for both Jeff and Kelly.
Jeff cleared his throat. “I think Addy has done more to help Kelly through this bullshit than that lousy hundred-bucks-an-hour counselor.”
“Good,” I said, smiling for the first time since waking up. I was done grilling Jeff. “Do you want me to pick Kelly up, or are you going to drop her off?”
“How about I bring her by around five today?”
“Sure.”
“Great. Thanks. Oh, and—”
His hesitation lasted so long I thought he’d been disconnected. “Yeah? Hello?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go out on a date sometime. We could get a burger, maybe see a movie.”
Yikes. How was I going to dodge this bullet? Jeff was not only the father of my daughter’s best friend, but also my client; a man whose wife left him for another woman;anda guy who’d worked up the nerve to ask me out in a nice, non-prostitution-like manner. This required some expert-level pussyfooting.
“How about we sell your house first, then we’ll try a date?” That seemed safe with less than a week until I lost my job.
“You mean like go out to celebrate?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Goodbye, Jeff.” I hung up and turned to find three pairs of eyes drilling me.
“Was that Kelly’s dad?” Aunt Zoe asked.
Natalie leaned forward. “Did he just ask you out?”
Harvey grinned. “How much are you going to charge him for sex?”
“I have to go to work now.” Grabbing my latte from the table, I nodded in their general direction and darted.
