The Birthday List(23)

Jamie had been standing at the register when a hooded man had come barreling into the store. The man had shot Jamie, then the cashier with no hesitation. Boom. Boom. Two shots, and my husband and a single mother to an eleven-year-old daughter had been murdered. The killer had loaded up cash from the register, then made his escape, disappearing without a trace.

No witnesses. No trail to follow.

No justice.

Jamie had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, all because I’d wanted to throw a party with something to drink other than tequila shots.

“They don’t blame you,” Jimmy said.

I gave him a sad smile. We both knew he was lying.

Kyle and Debbie had lost their oldest son. Since they couldn’t blame the actual murderer, they blamed me instead. Kyle couldn’t look me in the eye anymore, and whenever I tried to hug Debbie, she flinched.

But I understood. I blamed me too.

The guilt was part of the reason I’d been so diligent about visiting Detective Simmons. If I could actually find out who had killed Jamie, I might win his parents back. They could stop blaming me for his death.

Maybe I could stop blaming myself.

And now that Cole was looking into the case, I had a feeling we might actually make some progress. It was foolish to get my hopes up, but nevertheless, they were.

My faith in Cole’s abilities unnerved me. It was the kind of faith I’d always reserved for friends and family, and at best, Cole was just a casual acquaintance. Yet somehow, after one karate class, one dinner and one lunch, he’d earned my complete trust and confidence. When he’d told me that he would look into Jamie’s case, the deep-seated anxiety I’d felt for five years had eased—just a little.

Because if anyone could solve Jamie’s case, it would be Cole.

Jimmy sat back in his chair. “What else is new?”

“Nothing much. I’m pretty much confined to the restaurant right now, though I am taking a ukulele lesson tonight.” After leaving Jimmy’s, I’d go to my lesson.

“Ukulele?” He got a faraway look in his eyes. “Jamie always wanted to learn the ukulele.”

“Yeah, I know. I thought I’d give it a try for him.”

All of Jamie’s family knew about his birthday list—Jamie had practically shouted it from the rooftops when he’d came up with the idea. But while his family knew about the list, none of them knew I was working to finish it in Jamie’s place.

I hadn’t mentioned it to Kyle and Debbie because I knew they wouldn’t react well. And I hadn’t mentioned it to Jimmy because I didn’t want to make him sad. In the last seven years, he’d lost his wife to cancer, then his grandson, and then both his sisters. He’d had enough sadness, so for now, the birthday list—and my real motivations for taking ukulele lessons—was something I was keeping to myself.

“Did Jamie ever tell you why he wanted to learn?”

I shook my head. “No. Do you know why?”

“It was for Debbie.” Jimmy smiled. “She knew how to play and had always wanted to teach Jamie. Except in sixth grade, he decided on the drums instead so he could be in that awful garage band. Did he ever tell you his band’s name?”

I laughed. “The Roach Eaters.”

“Idiots,” Jimmy mumbled with a grin. “I’m glad that was just a phase. Anyway, he played the drums but promised Debbie he’d learn the ukulele someday, and you know how he was about his mama.”

“She hung the moon,” we said in unison.

Jamie had doted on Debbie, and except for me, his mother had been his favorite person in the world. A promise made to her was one only his death could break.

“Maybe next week you can bring your ukulele along and show me what you’ve learned.”

“You bet.” I nodded. “Now, before I have to head out, let’s discuss this hair situation. How long, exactly, will you be pink?”

Jimmy grinned and stood, walking over to a grocery bag by the television. The plastic crinkled as he fished out a can of shaving cream and pack of disposable Bic razors. “However long it takes for you to shave my head.”

“What?” My eyes got wide. “That’s crazy! I’m not shaving your head. Just have it bleached back to white.”

“And spend another thirty bucks? No way. This only cost me six.” The gleam in his eye turned diabolical. “That cheating bastard thinks he’s beaten me. Just wait until I show up in the dining hall tonight looking like Mr. Clean. That will show him. He’s got a crush on Millie Turner, but I have it on good authority she’s got a thing for bald guys. Let’s see his face when I swoop in and take his girl.”

“Jimmy, please don’t get into a fight with this guy and get kicked out of The Rainbow. I’m begging you.”

He grinned. “For Millie Turner, it might be worth it.”

That grin was so familiar, I had to smile back. Jamie had inherited a lot from his grandfather. His grin. His romantic side. His wild and free spirit.

And a grin that was impossible for me to deny.

“Fine. Let’s do this.” I stood from the couch and followed Jimmy into the kitchenette. Then I spent the next twenty minutes helping a seventy-two-year-old shave his head and thinking the entire time that Jamie would have loved this.

And he would have loved learning the ukulele from his mom.