Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(48)

She blinked up at me as I rubbed a towel over her hair. Her tongue poked through the hole where her teeth used to be, making all of her s’s sound like a lisp. “Vero thaid it’th not enough to want thomething. She thaid you have to make your own luck. Now the tooth fairy ith going to come, and I’ll get two hundred dollarth.”

“Two hundred dollars?” I laughed. “I don’t think the tooth fairy carries that kind of cash.”

“But I need it to help Vero.”

“Why does Vero need help?”

“I heard her talking on the phone. She thaid if she can’t get two hundred, she’ll be in big trouble.”

My face fell. “What kind of trouble?”

“A man got really mad at her becauth she lotht a marker. I told her she can have my purple one becauth I don’t like purple, but she thaid that won’t help. She needth a really big one.”

I stared after Delia as she hobbled out the door in her towel.

“What was that all about?” Georgia asked.

“No idea,” I said, pulling the plug on the drain. “I’d better go put a diaper on Zach before he releases a hostage on the floor.”

My sister laughed. “I’ll go see if Vero needs any help cleaning up the crime scene.”

“If only you could,” I said to myself when she was gone.

I found Zach hiding in his room, one hand braced on the wall, assuming the pose. “Oh, no you don’t!” I scooped him up and wrangled him into a Huggie.

When I carried him downstairs, Georgia was already mopping blood off the floor. Her nose wrinkled when I came into the kitchen. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Finn, but I can stay and keep an eye on the kids for a few more minutes if you want to grab a shower.”

“Where’s Vero?” I set Zach down, and he toddled toward the living room.

“Looking for carpet cleaner in the garage.”

We both turned as Vero burst into the kitchen. She set down a bottle of upholstery cleaner, put an arm around Georgia, and ushered her to the door, grabbing my sister’s coat from the rack and shoving it into her arms. “Thanks so much for watching the kids, Georgia. I’ll take it from here.” She took my sister’s keys from the counter and pushed them into her hand.

I turned sharply to Vero. “Georgia offered to stay and help clean up.”

Vero pinched my elbow hard. “Can I have a word with you in the kitchen?” She held up a finger to my sister as she forced me into the next room.

“What are you doing?” I asked, shaking off her grip.

“Georgia needs to go.”

“Why?”

Vero whispered through clenched teeth. “Because Carl Westover’s torso is still in my trunk.”

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “Oh, god.”

I turned back for the foyer and cleared my throat. “Thanks so much for all your help, Georgia, but there’s no need to stay.”

“Are you sure?” Georgia’s forehead wrinkled as Vero swung the door wide for her.

“Totally sure. Yep. We’re good here.”

“Okay. But you’d better grab that shower soon. Isn’t Nick picking you up at six?”

“What?” I felt the blood drain from my face.

“You know, for your date?”

Vero and I both turned toward the clock. Oh, no. I’d forgotten all about Nick. “It’s not a date,” I said between increasingly tight breaths.

“It’s totally a date.” Vero pushed my sister out the door. “You’d better be going so she can get ready.”

“I knew it!” my sister said as Vero shut it in her face.

“What do we do?” I asked, clutching my chest. Was I having a heart attack? This must be a heart attack. I had less than thirty minutes to figure out what to do with Carl.

“You take a shower and get ready for Nick. I’ll drive back to Theresa’s and be back before you leave. Go,” she said, shoving me toward the stairs. “I’ll handle Carl.” Vero grabbed her keys and rushed out the kitchen door.

The kids were peacefully engrossed with their toys, but if I didn’t get dinner on the table soon, there was sure to be a mutiny. I preheated the oven, grabbed bags of chicken nuggets and tater tots from the freezer, and washed my hands no less than five times before pouring the frozen lumps into a metal baking tray. The sound of them hitting the pan made my stomach turn. I slid the pan into the oven, set the timer, and raced upstairs to the shower.

After scrubbing every inch of skin with scalding hot water, I came out of the bathroom to find one of Vero’s dresses hanging on my closet door. A pair of matching heels had been tossed to the floor under it.

I toweled off quickly and wiggled into the dress. It was far sexier than anything I owned—a deep sapphire blue with a plunging neckline and a clingy wrap waist, the soft material just forgiving enough to fit me—but as I frowned at the contents of my own closet, it was painfully clear I had no other options.

I adjusted it around my curves, ran some curling mousse through my hair, and spritzed on some floral body spray, hoping I didn’t smell like a corpse in a funeral home. After a few swipes of mascara and lip gloss, I slipped on Vero’s heels and searched for my phone.

Shit. Where was my phone?

I must have left it in my purse. Which was still in Vero’s car.