Riley Thorn and the Corpse in the Closet by Lucy Score
21
1:13 p.m., Sunday, August 16
Riley stuffed her phone back in her bag.
“Was Weber impressed with your report?” Nick asked.
“He sounded busy.” She pulled out a Santiago Investigations hat and put it on. After getting recognized by another stranger, she wasn’t taking any chances on the crowded deck of Wormleysburg’s favorite riverfront restaurant.
“Investigating homicides for a living will do that. Now, let’s go drink some beers and feel smug about our life choices,” he said, pulling her toward Dockside Willies.
Inside, she tugged the bill of the hat lower and didn’t make eye contact with anyone.
The host led them out onto the deck and slapped menus on a table with a great view of the skeletal remains of the Walnut Street Bridge. The site of their first official kiss.
Riley blinked when Nick pulled out a chair for her.
“You’re pulling out my chair for me?”
“I can be gentlemanly,” he insisted.
“Alistair really did a number on you, didn’t he?” she teased.
“Sit your ass down, Thorn. I’m hungry.”
They sat and snapped open the menus. Donuts long ago digested by adrenaline, she decided on the sliders and a beer since her day had gone to hell in a handbasket.
Nick leaned back and hooked his foot around the leg of her chair, scooting her closer. “This is nice.”
She looked around them. It was hot, but the overhead fans helped stir the humidity around to make it almost tolerable. “Yeah. Beautiful summer weather.”
“I meant being here with you,” he corrected.
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked.
“Me? Nothing’s gotten into me. Stop asking me why I’m making an effort.”
“You’re being very attentive and grumpy about it,” Riley pointed out.
“Can I take your drink orders?” A harried server who had already sweated through his polo shirt arrived just in time to save Nick from having to answer.
They ordered, and the server left, leaving little beads of sweat on the edge of the table.
“Did you get anything helpful from Cindy?” Riley asked Nick.
He shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting to. Just confirmed that Larry was a flake that no one liked. Lazy. Grumpy. Entitled.”
She crossed her arms. “I feel like both cases are going nowhere fast. Two dead bodies with nothing in common but the fact that both victims were assholes? And then there’s a father of four who up and vanishes before someone steals his cat. How can there be no leads in either case?”
Something was simmering in the back of her head. Something she couldn’t see yet. Like an itch she couldn’t reach.
“It happens,” Nick said. “Every once in a while, a criminal is either really good at what they do or gets really lucky.”
“You’re leaning toward Larry being dead, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Yeah. He’s just not smart enough to disappear on his own.”
“It could have been an accident. A hit and run while he was out for a jog. Or maybe he had a heart attack? He could be in an ICU under John Doe,” she suggested.
He shook his head. “He had a DUI arrest about ten years back. His prints are on file. He would have been identified by now. Besides, someone had to know he wasn’t coming back.”
“And that someone took his cat.”
The server returned with their beers and more sweat.
“I’ve got Brian running some fancy configurations on the doorbell footage hoping we come up with some identifying mark that’ll lead us in the direction of the guy who stole his cat.”
“Do you think the guy who took his cat had something to do with his disappearance?”
Nick nodded. “My gut says yes. Even if the catnapper had his own keys to the place, how else would he have known Larry wasn’t there? He didn’t ring the bell or knock. He walked straight in.”
“Good point.” Something tickled at the back of her mind again. “Maybe he was doing it because he didn’t want Mr. Pickles to starve?”
“You mean, you think a potential murderer knew Rupley had a cat and knew no one would come looking for him for a while?” he pressed.
“Yeah. What if he’s one of the neighbors? Neighbors give each other keys all the time? Or maybe he’s the landlord?”
“The landlord is a six-foot seven-inch former high school basketball star. I checked up on him, and he was on a Bermuda cruise the week the vic disappeared.”
“Have you talked to Kellen?”
Nick took a long pull on his beer. “He’s got his hands full with your sparkly dead bodies. I filed a missing person’s report this morning while you were trying to burn down the farmers’ market.”
“That was Mrs. Penny’s fault. And maybe a little bit of Burt. Apparently, he jumped the counter at the taco place and tackled a pho customer. I’m pretty sure it was Mrs. Penny who pulled the fire alarm.”
“Can’t take them anywhere.”
She shifted in her seat to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “I’ll sit down with Gabe tonight and try to get something out of my spirit guides,” she offered. She’d been putting a lot of psychic energy into Kellen’s case and doing nothing but holding babies and filing paperwork for Nick. “Worst case scenario, we ask my grandmother.”
“Speaking of psychic stuff, what kind of vision did you get at Cindy’s place?” he asked.
Riley choked on her beer. She didn’t really think he was prepared for what she’d seen…again. The first time she’d had the flash of Nick Santiago holding a little girl with his dimples, she’d chalked it up to insanity. This time around? Well, she had no more excuses. She was seeing the future. Nick’s future. And she didn’t know if she was part of it.
“Ah, crap. You didn’t see me die again, did you? Am I going to have to duct tape you to the bed to keep you from running off and trying to save my life?”
“No! I saw…something else.”
“What?”
She blew out a breath. “I saw you in the future holding a baby with dimples.”
It was Nick’s turn to choke on his beer.
Other patrons were starting to look at them.
She handed him a napkin. “You’re the one who asked.”
“Lots of babies have dimples,” he pointed out.
She shook her head. “Not Santiago dimples.”
He wiped a hand over his nice new shirt. “Huh. Okay. How do you feel about kids?”
“Me?”
“No, the lady in the straw hat behind you. Yes, you, Thorn.”
“I guess I like kids.”
“Okay. Me too.”
“Have you ever thought about having kids?” she pressed.
He shook his head. “Not until you were juggling Maxine with the naughty vocabulary.”
Riley felt her face flush. She’d managed to convince herself she’d imagined reading Nick’s mind at the kitchen table. “So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re the kind of girl who makes a guy start thinking about the future.”
“I need another beer,” she decided.
He grinned. “Relax, Thorn. We don’t have to map out the next twenty years of our lives right now.”
“But a family is on the table? With me,” she clarified.
“You’re really sexy when you’re freaking out on the inside,” he told her.
“I’m not freaking out. You’re freaking out.”
“I’m sitting in the sun with my incognito girlfriend enjoying a cold beer. There’s nothing to freak out over.”
“Spoken like a guy who thinks diapers magically change themselves.”
“You wound me, Thorn.”
Their food arrived, and they dug in until Nick’s phone rang. “Hey, Bri. What’ve you got for me?”
Riley attacked her sliders and listened to his side of the conversation.
“Okay. She’s going to hate that.”
“What am I going to hate?” she demanded when he hung up, the slider forgotten in her hand.
“Brian says he didn’t have enough to run facial recognition. And it was too dark to get a look for any tattoos or identifying marks.”
“So Mr. Pickles’s catnapper is still a ghost.”
“For now. Brian’s running a search on properties that Larry or his family own in case he’s holed up in a cabin somewhere.”
“What else? What am I going to hate?”
Nick grinned. “He also mentioned that there’s a photo of you on Instagram that’s getting a lot of attention.”
He held out his phone to her.
It was a photo of Riley being smother-hugged by Cindy.
Met a celebrity today! Harrisburg’s famous psychic Riley Thorn! Not only did she know how Grandpa Ryan died (skydiving accident), she’s on the case looking for my missing coworker. If anyone has any information on Larry Rupley, contact Riley Thorn directly! But save those marriage proposals, guys. She appears to be taken by a very hot, very dimpled private investigator. #psychic #celebrityencounters #shestallerinperson #dimpledhottie
The picture had four thousand likes already.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she decided, reaching for her second beer.
Her phone rang.
“What is it, Lily?” Riley asked.
“Just calling to deliver your messages. Mr. Winters, or was that Summers? Billy Blanks—do you think he’s the real Tae Bo guy? And Ellie Karpinski… Wait. Maybe that was Crapinski. I can’t read my handwriting. Oh, well. They all say they have information for you, but they’ll only share it in return for a psychic reading. I told them you don’t get out of bed for less than a thousand dollars, and they all hung up.”
“Uh. Thanks?” Riley said. She shoved her hand into her hair, dislodging the hat.
“Nick’s business phone has been ringing off the hook for the last hour, so I had Mr. Willicott start answering it since he and Fred finished the ramp this morning. What should I tell them?”
“Tell who?” Riley groaned.
“Everyone who keeps calling. What are your rates for a reading? How serious are you and Nick? I told them I wouldn’t be surprised if you elope soon. You’ll take me along, won’t you? I’ve always wanted to be a bridesmaid.”
“Lily, do me a favor and just leave the phones off the hook for now.”
“But how will I tell everyone I’m your executive assistant then?”
Riley banged her head on the table. “Just leave the phones off the hook, and Nick and I will take care of it when we get home.”
“Okey-dokey! Oh, I accidentally let Burt eat a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs.”
Riley hung up.
“What’s with the face? You look like the world just burned down,” Nick observed.
She looked down at her plate. “Would it be wrong to turn this into a liquid lunch?”
“That’s never wrong,” he assured her.
“The mansion landline and your office phone have been ringing off the hook since Big Mouth Cindy posted the picture. Fred and Willicott apparently finished the handicap ramp. Oh, and Lily fed Burt a bowl of spaghetti.”
“Let’s just stay here and drink for the rest of the day. When we’re done, we’ll call a Lyft, throw our phones in the river, go to the airport, and fly to Costa Rica.”
“You have never been more attractive than you are right now,” Riley decided.
“It’s the shoes,” he said.
Her phone rang again, and with an eye-roll, Riley answered. “Hi, Mom.”
“Sweetie, I hate to do this, but I have an emergency. I need you to come over as soon as you can.”
“Is everything okay? Did Grandma give Dad a heart attack?”
“Your father is fine.”
“No, I’m not!” Roger bellowed in the background. “You Thorn women are driving me batty!”
“Don’t listen to him. We just have a situation with your grandmother.”
“An emergency situation?” Riley clarified. “As in first responders are on their way?”
“No. Don’t be silly. No one’s bleeding or turning blue.”
“So then it’s just a regular situation?”
“Just get over here as soon as possible,” Blossom begged. “Please, Riley. I don’t ask for much.”
“Yes, you do. You ask for stuff all the time.”
“For the love of Goddess, do not make me use your middle name!”
“Nick and I will be there in fifteen minutes,” Riley said and hung up. He looked at her expectantly. “Costa Rica will have to wait.”
“Who did your grandmother kill?”
“No one yet. But my mother seems to think we’re needed at the house immediately. She almost broke out my middle name, which means it might not be a severed limb, but it is serious.”
“When are you going to tell me your middle name?” he asked.
“Only when it’s absolutely necessary.”
Nick stuffed the rest of his burger in his mouth and made the universal check sign to the server across the deck.
Riley was in mid-guzzle of the remainder of her beer when a very pretty server with long black hair and pink tips sauntered up to the table.
“Nicky Santiago,” she purred.
Nick jumped out of his chair so fast it tipped over backwards. “Ah, God. Okay. Riley, this is Twyla. Twyla and I dated very briefly,” he said, wrestling his wallet out of his pocket.
“Very briefly. As soon as he heard I was ready to settle down, get married, have kids, this one was out the door,” Twyla said with a laugh, jerking her thumb affectionately in his direction.
Riley noted she had a wedding band on her left hand and a picture of a kid in her order notebook. “It’s nice to meet you,” she told Twyla.
“Yeah. Nice to see you again. This is my girlfriend, Riley. We’d stay and chat, but we’re leaving the country,” Nick said, dragging Riley to her feet.
“Bye, Twyla.”
