Serious Moonlight(109)

I didn’t either. Sometimes mysteries turn up things you didn’t expect to find. Like witty, beautiful boyfriends who may turn out to be the love of your life. You never know. Fate’s funny that way.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text. “Leon says they’re driving out of the ferry terminal, so they’ll be here in a couple of minutes.” I’d already seen the outfit she’d made for the occasion: a bejeweled fortune-teller with a cutout in the gown over her baby bump, which revealed spandex underneath, painted like a purple-smoke-filled crystal ball; when she rested her hands on top of her belly, it looked as if she were seeing into the future. “We should probably make our way back to the shower.”

“Is Baba here already?” Jiji asked.

I nodded. “She’s inside with Cherry.”

“Hope they have good food at this shindig, because I’m starving.”

“There’s cake,” I confirmed. “And punch.”

Jiji made a face. So did Daniel.

“No pie?” he said mournfully, and then glanced at the Pie of the Day board: STRAWBERRY’S BABY, featuring glazed bloodred strawberries scented with rosemary and piled into a devilishly dark chocolate-cookie crust. “Are you freaking kidding me? I have to have that.”

A tall, elderly African-American woman in a floral dress whistled at us from across the diner. “You gonna stand there all day?” she said in a husky voice. “Get your rumps in here.”

“What about strawberry pie, Ms. Patty?” Daniel called back.

“It’s back here, next to the cake, where you should be if you want a slice.”

“You’re a GD goddess, Ms. Patty,” Daniel said.

“That’s what they tell me,” she said with a wink before gesturing to me. “Come on, Birdie girl. My ice ring is melting in the punch bowl, and I need your help filling the cups. Your grandpa is too slow with the ladle. And someone tell Gina to lock the door when Ms. Mona and her man arrive; otherwise people outside will ignore the sign and wander in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I called. For one déjà vu moment, I was ten years old, back living above the diner, waiting on my mother to come home. Missing people is hard. Letting new people inside is harder. But the reward for making that effort was greater than I could have imagined. Family isn’t always blood, and it isn’t contained in a single tree. It’s a forest.

It took me a long time to figure out that not everyone in my life was meant to stay. But using that as armor didn’t shield me from future heartache. And even heartache felt a million times better than running away.

If I were to update my own case profile, it would probably look something like this:

Suspect: Birdie Lindberg

Age: 18

Medical conditions: (1) Narcolepsy with cataplexy; currently managing and under doctor’s care. (2) Bookworm disease (incurable). (3) Recent struggle with grief, but getting better every day. (4) Madly in love and not seeking treatment.

Personality traits: Shy but curious. Less cowardly than she used to be. Excellent with details. Good observer. Just might make it.

“Hey, Birdie,” Jiji said as he helped Daniel lift the bassinet out of its plastic covering. “Now that you’re on your way to being a professional detective, I’ve got a whodunit for you. There’s a young lady who walked into the baby shower, and I just remembered that I’ve seen her talking to Old Man Jessen in the grocery store in an intimate manner.”

I didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, but he was peering through the doorway into the baby shower, trying to find her. “Chances are it’s not the same person. Why would Old Man Jessen know a friend of Mona’s?”

“I don’t know, but it’s her. I’d bet my life on it. And I think Mr. Holier Than Thou Jessen is running some kind of flimflam on his wife.”

“Flimflam?”

“Maybe he’s having an affair, or maybe he’s got a secret family. Whatever it is, it involves that lady. I need you to question her and figure out how she knows him so that I can throw it in his face the next time he tries to give me a citation for Blueberry pissing in the playground sandbox.”

“Again?” Daniel said.

“Can’t curb a cat’s natural instinct,” Jiji argued. “So how about it? Will you talk to the lady and see how she knows Jessen?”

“Why can’t you just ask her yourself?” I asked.

“She might recognize me. Besides, you’re the detective. You and Danny do it; then report back to me.”

Daniel comically rolled his eyes at me as he hefted his side of the bassinet. “Come on, Nora. Let’s go eat some pie and solve a mystery.”





Acknowledgments


This book was difficult to write. Thank you to everyone who made it possible: Laura Bradford and Taryn Fagerness (for representing and believing in me).

Nicole Ellul (for your patience, and for making this book a gazillion times better).

Sarah Creech (for recreating the Moonlight Diner on this amaaaaaazing cover).

The entire Simon Pulse and Simon UK teams (for being the best publishing team ever).

Early readers who offered critical technical/sensitivity advice but prefer to remain anonymous . . . You know who you are. (All mistakes are mine.) Also many thanks to: