Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(21)

I glanced at the cluster of moms by the cubbies who were pretending not to eavesdrop as they wrangled their children into coats.

“Sorry, that was out of line,” he said, turning his back to them. “I just thought maybe we could catch up.” He fidgeted with his helmet, palming it in the broad stretch of his hand. A hand that had felt really good cupping my backside in his car a month ago. “You could call it research, if you want. You know, ask me questions about your book.” Nick looked around and lowered his voice. “I read that one you signed for Pete in the lab. He let me borrow it under threat of bodily harm if I didn’t return it. It was pretty good.”

I struggled to remember which of my novels the young forensic tech had asked me to sign. A vision of the half-nude cover model hit me, and I nearly swallowed my tongue as I remembered a few of the scenes in the book. “Oh, god. You read that?”

Amusement simmered in the low heat of his smile. “Georgia says you’re working on a new one. I’d love to hear about it.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m sort of—” A kid stumbled into the back of Nick’s legs, knocking him a step closer to me. The enticing aromas of coffee and spearmint tangled with the spice of his aftershave. If I closed my eyes, I’d probably smell the upholstery of his car. My mouth went dry. “Sure. Okay.”

His dark eyes lit as he backed toward the exit, navigating the crowded hall without tearing his gaze from me. Or maybe people just naturally parted for him. “Tell Delia I had fun today. I’ll call you.” He sank his teeth into his lip to hide his grin as he turned and slipped out the door.





CHAPTER 10


My breath came back to me in a rush. What had I done? Had I seriously just agreed to go to dinner with Nick? When he called—if he called—I would just have to explain that I’d made a mistake. Clearly, I’d been impaired when I’d made that decision. I couldn’t possibly be expected to think straight when he’d been standing so close.

I turned for Delia’s cubby, the hair on the back of my neck rising when I spotted a woman crouching beside my daughter. Her straight blond hair curtained her face, but I was sure she wasn’t a teacher at the school, and she didn’t resemble any of the moms I knew in passing. I maneuvered toward them, stepping around the last of the lingering children, picking up my pace as I caught a glimpse of a cell phone held between them. They both waved to someone on the screen.

“What’s going on here?” The woman jerked upright, her hand landing protectively on Delia’s as she spun around. She lowered her phone and pressed it to her thigh.

But not before I recognized the face on the screen.

“Hello?” Theresa’s voice grew impatient, muffled by the woman’s leg. “I can’t see anything, Aimee. Are you even there? I told you, I don’t care about some stupid Career Day.” A heavy sigh burst from the phone. “If you can hear me, just come over. General Hospital starts in an hour and I need you to stop by Harris Teeter; we’re out of Ben and Jerry’s—”

Theresa’s best friend, Aimee Reynolds, stared back at me, wide-eyed and guilty as she thumbed off her phone. I reached for my daughter and gently pulled her to me.

Delia bounced, tugging on my pants. “Mommy! Aunt Aimee came to see me!”

“Um, hi, Finlay,” she said, tucking away her phone and extending her hand. “I’m—”

“I know who you are.” I’d seen Aimee before. I’d watched from a distance while Vero had confronted her at a makeup counter in the mall. Aimee and Theresa had been sorority sisters, inseparable since college. Photos of them, arm in arm, were framed in Theresa’s office and on the walls of her house.

She withdrew her hand when I didn’t take it. “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here. It’s just…” She glanced down at Delia and lowered her voice. “I haven’t seen the kids since … you know.” Delia’s head tipped up, her blue eyes curious.

“Sweetie,” I said to Delia, “why don’t you use the bathroom before we go?”

Aimee gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you get back.” She bit her lip as Delia skipped off down the hall, her eyes pleading with me as if suddenly she wasn’t sure. “I’m sorry, Finlay. I know I should have asked if it was okay to come, but I haven’t seen the kids in a month. Not since Theresa was arrested.”

“Theresa and Steven aren’t engaged anymore. She isn’t their—”

“I know who Theresa is,” Aimee said, her voice sharpening. “I was the one she called from a restaurant bathroom, crying and covered in soup. I was the one who brought her a towel and washed French onion out of her hair.”

“I’d just found out she’d been sleeping with my husband!”

“And it was my SUV she borrowed when her car was in the shop because you decided to retaliate by stuffing Play-Doh up her tailpipe!” She drew a steadying breath, lowering her raised voice. “Don’t make her out to be the only bad guy in that story. When it involves lying and cheating, there are always two.”

“Regardless of my feelings toward Theresa, her relationship with Steven is over. She has zero reasons to talk with my children, even through the phone. Neither do you.”