Unbinding Love Read online

  “What?”

  “You’re just dating a cop and he’s a cop I introduced you to, remember? I work with cops.”

  “You don’t get paid so really what you do is more like volunteer.”

  I noticed my knuckles had turned a pasty white from gripping the steering wheel. “I do not volunteer. I am a special consultant who works in an undercover capacity at no charge.”

  “You say tomato…”

  “Oh my—“

  My mother cut me off, and Mel was lucky she had because it was the first time in a long time she’d get a verbal Italian butt whooping from her best friend. Trust me, it was deserved. A volunteer. As if.

  “We goin’ for the clue now?” Ma asked.

  I gave Mel the stink eye. “Ma’s here. Consider yourself saved.”

  “I’m just sayin’,” Mel said, the laugh in her voice clear.

  “Whatever.”

  “You wearing your butt on your shoulders today, Ang?” Ma asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “She’s asking you what’s wrong, isn’t she?” Mel asked.

  “Drop it, Mel,” I said.

  “You sure sound cranky,” Ma said.

  “I said I’m fine, Ma.”

  “She’s cranky ‘cause I told her she’s a volunteer for the police,” Mel said.

  “Oh boy. That ain’t gonna turn out good for Mel,” Ma said.

  “No, it isn’t,” I said.

  “What’d she say?” Mel asked.

  “She said you’re headed for a serious Italian whoop ass.”

  She hit the electric window button and took a gulp of fresh air.

  Ma chuckled, but I didn’t find it funny. Jake’s fears had become my own, and Mel’s comment rubbed me the wrong way. I was cranky. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, the rest of the world needed to watch out. Hell had no fury like an Italian woman in a bad mood.

  Luckily for Mel and the rest of the world, Bill appeared a few minutes before we arrived at the house.

  “Aaron isn’t going to be happy we’re here,” I said. “We definitely can’t go back inside since we’ve already disturbed the crime scene of an active investigation. I don’t know if the outside counts. If it does, we can at least claim naiveté.”

  “If it does, whadda we care?” Ma asked. “We’re lookin’ for the big bucks, and if we find it, we might find out who killed Bill and Emma too, right? Then we’re the heroes and it won’t matter none about the crime scene bein’ disturbed.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “But it’s not like their names will be on the money.”

  “I really wish I was psychic,” Mel said.

  “Watch what you wish for,” I said.

  Mel hobbled out of the car, and I grabbed the garden tools from the back seat and carried them to the backyard. She leaned against a tree while Bill showed me where the dog was buried.

  “What kind of dog?” Mel asked.

  “A Golden Retriever,” I said.

  In the far back of the lot, just into a heavily wooded area past the fenced part, stood a tall tree with a thick trunk, probably hundreds of years old based on the size of it. Bill said Emma put a small box with a photo plaque and poem encased with glass inside. He said she’d told their son she’d buried the dog there because she didn’t want the next owners of the house possibly disturbing the grave. Mel staggered over to it while I crawled around the burial area checking out the ground for possible clues. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for, probably a needle in a haystack, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do. I hoped whatever I needed to find would make itself known to me.

  “Ang, you gotta come look at this,” Mel yelled from the tree.

  “Gimme a sec,” I yelled back, patting the ground with a small metal spade. I pulled myself up, wiped the leaves and sticks from my jeans, and moved toward the far end of the backyard. Just before I reached her, my ankle caught in a dip in the ground and twisted. I tumbled down on it and fell to the right, catching myself on my right arm and falling flat on the palm of my hand. “Son of a beach ball,” I screamed. “That hurt.”

  Ma zipped over with Bill close behind her. Mel took a little longer, but that was to be expected. “Oh, that can’t be good,” she said, staring at my twisted ankle. “Who’s gonna drive home now?”

  I glanced at my foot. And my eyes lit up. “Mel, get the shovel, quick.”

  If anyone happened to be secretly taping Mel and me shoveling dirt in the woods behind Emma Marx’s backyard, they definitely needed to send it to America’s Funniest Home Videos because they’d take home the big bucks. Two middle-aged women holding each other up and attempting to balance on one foot each while taking turns shoveling and falling all over each other had to be hilarious to watch. It was gut-busting to Ma and Bill or would have been it they still had guts, and it was pretty comical to Mel and me too.

  My psychic juju had been sending me all kinds of signs telling me something wasn’t right, but I had ignored them. I’d been intent to figure out what was going on or find Emma Marx, the money, the next clue…I didn’t quite know what, and that was the problem. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I just knew I needed to find out.

  “Keep your heel pressed into the ground so I don’t fall,” I said.

  “My heel is pressed into the ground.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  “Stop pushing your hip into my thigh, and we won’t tip over,” Mel said.

  “I have to or I can’t get enough force to push the shovel.”

  “That’s because all you do is run instead of lift weights. You need to build more muscle,” Mel said.

  “Do you really wanna have that conversation when I’m holding the shovel?”

  She shook her head. “Not so much.”

  The shovel hit something solid in the dirt. “I think I found it,” I said.

  “Found what?” Ma asked.

  So did Mel.

  I dropped the shovel and wobbled to the ground as carefully as I could without putting any unnecessary pressure on my already swollen and pained ankle. “Look.” I pointed to the top of what looked like a piece of metal. “Can you see that?”

  Mel mimicked the way I sat, and checked it out. “Looks like some kind of metal something.”

  I used the metal spade to push the dirt around it off. The more I pushed, the bigger the metal got.

  “Wow, that’s pretty big,” Ma said.

  “Can you do anything?”

  “Who me?” Mel asked.

  “I’m talking to my mom,” I said.

  “Yeah, Fran. Can you work your celestial juju for us? This could take all day,” Mel said.

  “Who’s she talkin’ to?” Ma asked. “I don’t see no one named Fran around here.”

  “Oh for the love of Mike. Now is not the time for that, Ma.”

  “What’s goin’ on?” Mel asked.

  “She doesn’t go by Fran, remember?”

  “Seriously? Now?”

  I agreed.

  “Petronilla, can you do anything?”

  “What’s she thinkin’? It’s not like I can work miracles or somethin’.”

  I sighed. “No, but you do have some fancy celestial super powers when you need them, and right now we need them. We can’t be digging like this all day.”

  Mel held up her hand. “Look, I just got a manicure and it’s ruined.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Really? That’s what you’re goin’ with?”

  She shrugged. “Do you know how expensive manicures are these days?” She held her hands to my face and as I examined the dirt between her skinny, dirty fingers I caught a glimpse of something flash behind her. One minute it was there and the next it was gone.

  “They’re ruined,” she said.

  “What?”

  “My nails. You’re not even looking at them,” Mel said, and checked behind her. “What’re you looking at?”

  “I thought I saw something.”

  Bill floated behind M
el. “What did you see?” He turned around and checked out the area behind him. “A neighbor?”

  “I couldn’t make out what it was. Probably just the wind.” I went back to the metal in the ground and dug my hands into the dirt, trying to find where the thing ended, but I couldn’t. Either it was massive or I wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree. I figured it was the second.

  “Ah Madone,” Ma said. “Hold on.”

  She drifted upward, and she did some funky thing where her arms rose up above her head and slightly behind her and wiggled like they didn’t have any bones, which I realized, they didn’t, anymore. Her energy lit up, glowing a bright white, trimmed in a soft gold, something I’d never seen before, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t amaze the heck out of me. She positioned herself over the metal piece and pulled her arms back in, and then immediately back out. When she did, the dirt, leaves, and everything else covering the metal flew off, splattering all over both Mel and me. Since our jaws were gaping O shaped holes, we both got a mouth full of the stuff too.

  “Holy mother of God,” Mel said as she spat out dry yard yuck. “Your mom is the bomb.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Ma said.

  I spit out the debris and bent down to grab the metal box. “It’s a safe.” I dug around the sides of it with the spade. The depth wasn’t as big as I’d expected, so I doubted it had the money in it, at least not all of it. I was able to push it out with the spade. I wrenched it out of the ground and set it down next to me. We all gawked at it like it was some priceless artifact from some Egyptian prince or something.

  The sunlight reflected off the metal and bounced into my eyes, nearly blinding me. When I squinted, a prism of colors darted across the yard and rebounded off the mounds of dirt the police left when they’d dug up the yard before. “This doesn’t make sense,” I said.

  “What?” Mel asked.

  “The police already dug up this entire backyard and found nothing.”

  “This wasn’t in the backyard. It was in the woods behind the backyard. Why would they check there?”

  “Since they didn’t, I guess it’s not something they would do.” I ran my hand across the box and let out a frustrated breath. “It’s got a combination lock.”

  “Try the ten-twenty-five number again,” Bill said. The urgency in his voice struck me as odd.

  “Why so impatient, Bill?”

  “I’m not impatient,” he said. “We’re just waiting.” His energy vibrated, and instead of glowing, it hummed. I would have sworn he was anxious, though he tried hard to remain calm.

  “What’s going on, Bill? You’re acting awfully strange.”

  “Nothing’s going on. Just open the box.”

  I wiped off the lock area with my shirt and moved the four little numbers to the date the dog died, and the lock snapped into place and clicked open.

  I stared at the safe one more time.

  Ma’s patience was close to done. “Well, whadda’re ya waitin’ for? You gonna open it or what?”

  I let my conscious get the best of me. “Should we get this to Aaron?”

  “Hell no,” Mel said. “Open the darn thing before I pee on myself.”

  “We’re all curious,” Bill said. “Just open the safe.” His tone had quickly gone from impatient to upset.

  Mel couldn’t hear him but must have sensed something. “What’s going on?”

  “Why are you curious, Bill? Do you think the money is here? What does it matter to you anyway? You can’t do anything with it.”

  My mother glared at Bill. “Yeah, Bill, if you were alive, you’d be sweatin’ like a dog in a Thai restaurant right now. You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?”

  Bill back peddled. “I uh, I…I’m just excited. I don’t know how the money could be here. I don’t know how the police couldn’t have found it. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  I swirled the numbers on the lock so it wouldn’t open. “I’m not gonna open it. I think we need to call Aaron.” Since we’d basically broken all kinds of laws—or so I thought—I didn’t want to break any more, so notifying the police was definitely the right thing to do. I tugged my phone out of my pocket and called him.

  He answered with a new greeting. “Tell me you’re not doing something you shouldn’t be.”

  “Why can’t you just say hello? It’s like you think the worst of me now, and there’s no reason for that.” I worked hard to keep the mood light so Bill wouldn’t freak any more than he already had. I wanted him to think I didn’t suspect him of anything even though I was certain he’d done something bad.

  “Because lately I feel like I’m the comic relief in some bad women’s play.”

  “What women’s play could ever be bad?”

  “What can I do for you today?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but I ignored it.

  “I think you should come to Emma Marx’s house.” I clicked the speaker icon on my phone so everyone could hear the anger I knew was coming.

  “Son of a bi—bicyclist. What are you doing messing around an active crime scene again? Is Mel with you? She better not— oh hell. I’m on my way.” He disconnected.

  Mel giggled. “Guess I’m not getting lucky again tonight.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blond ball of something bounce through the bushes. I rubbed my eyes and focused, and realized the blond ball was a cute Golden Retriever. “Bill, what was your dog’s name?”

  “Benny. Why?”

  “Benny,” I yelled, and the dog bounded over, his telling wagging, and his tongue hanging from his mouth. He pounced toward me, and I went to pet him, completely forgetting that I couldn’t. “You’re a good boy.”

  He wagged his tail, and his tongue licked right through my leg.

  Bill’s face lit up light a Christmas tree decorated in all white lights. “Hey, Benny, how’s my good boy?” He crouched down, though not touching the ground and got up close to the dog. Benny’s tail stopped wagging, his ears went back, and he showed his teeth. Instead of a soft moan, the dog growled, and he barked like he wanted to eat Bill for breakfast. Bill cooed in an attempt to calm Benny, but it didn’t work. After a few minutes of incessant barking, Bill’s Christmas lights burned out, and he disappeared.

  As I filled Mel in on my thoughts, Benny ran around in circles, sniffing the holes the police dug around his backyard. He’d catch my eye occasionally, and I’d laugh as he’d drop into a hole and jump out. When he didn’t come out of one, I heaved myself up and hobbled toward it.

  “Where’re you going?” Mel asked.

  I pointed to the hole. “Benny’s in there and hasn’t come out.”

  “Wait for me,” she said, then pushed herself up and limped behind me.

  “Oh crap,” we both said in unison.

  “Well, that ain’t good, “Ma said, staring into the hole.

  Aaron’s timing was perfect. “What on God’s earth are you two thinking? This is an active crime scene—“

  Mel and I glanced back at him and then pointed into the hole. When he saw what we saw, he grabbed his radio on the side of his shirt and said, “This is Detective Banner, I need the medical examiner over at the Marx property ASAP. We’ve got a probable 1048 in a hole in the backyard.”

  “Who do you think it is?” Mel asked.

  Aaron held up his palms. “But from the looks of him, he hasn’t been there long.”

  “Come on, Benny boy, come here!” The ghost-dog was still in the hole with the body, and it freaked me out. The man lay there, face up, covered with only a thin layer of dirt. Contrary to what people think, unless you’re asleep or your eyes are already closed, they don’t automatically close when you die. If they’re open, they stay open. This guy’s eyes were wide open when he took his last breath, and from the look on his face, he was pretty shocked to be dying that way, too. My skin tingled, and I scratched my biceps to make it stop.

  “Is he here?” Mel asked.

  “Who?” Aaron asked.

 
She pointed to the man in the hole. “Him. Is he here?”

  “Oh, you mean his ghost?”

  “No, Santa Claus.”

  “You’re asking me a question I can’t answer.”

  “Actually, I’m asking Angela.” She poked me in the shoulder. “Hey, you listening?”

  “Ouch. What?”

  “Is the dead guy here?”

  I glanced around just to make sure. “The only dead one with us is Benny the dog. The rest took off.”

  “Even Fran?”

  “Yup.”

  “Odd.”

  “Something’s up with Bill,” I said. “He really wanted me to open the box. The box!” I grabbed the box and gave it to Aaron. “The combination is one-zero-two-five. Whatever’s inside means something to Bill, and I know you’re gonna think this is crazy, but I think he killed his wife.”

  The eye roll he gave me confirmed my suspicions.

  The medical examiner arrived, along with his team and a crew of crime scene technicians. Benny was not pleased. He ran circles around them all, barking and nipping at their heels. I watched as one tech kept glancing and swiping at his feet, and wondered if he also had the gift. When I caught a glimpse of him crouched down and talking to Benny, I knew. He noticed me noticing him talking to nothing and quickly stopped, so I walked over to him and whispered in his ear. “The Golden’s name is Benny. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  His mouth about hit the ground, but when it had time to sink in, he smiled and said, “Thank you.”

  We stood around the makeshift grave as the ME asked us questions.

  “Do you know the man?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Find any ID?”

  “No, sir.”

  He leaned into the hole. “Looks like a recent death. Body is clearly in rigor, smell is limited.”

  Praise God, thank you, Jesus. The last thing I needed was Mel or I throwing up all over a crime scene. Again.

  Mel leaned on her good foot and anchored herself against of Aaron for support. “The victim appears to be approximately mid-thirties.”

  I might have thought too soon about the puking at a crime scene thing because Mel playing detective made me want to hurl.

  I leaned in on my good foot but didn’t use Aaron as a support. I should have because I lost my balance and tumbled into the hole head first. I flung my arms out in front of me, hoping they’d stop my face from hitting the dead guy and the dirt.