Jeremy widened his eyes. “Really?”
“Well, maybe not anymore,” Caitlin said faintly. Finding Nolan’s threat to Granger seemed like perfect proof—of course Granger would want Nolan dead to protect his reputation. But what if Granger was killed because he knew something else, something about Nolan’s murderer? There still could be all kinds of secrets out there.
An elderly couple appeared at the top of the hill and walked with stooped backs down the path. Suddenly feeling like they no longer had the place to themselves, Caitlin turned to Jeremy. “Pizza?”
“Sure,” he said, a grin breaking out on his face.
They headed to Gino’s, a mom-and-pop place near the cemetery that was blissfully empty at that time of the day. Over slices of white pie, they talked about normal things—Jeremy’s participation in the next science fair, shows they liked on TV, and how Caitlin’s soccer team was voting on captain this week. Caitlin was still on the fence about what soccer meant to her, but deep down, she couldn’t help feeling jittery over the election. Captain was something she’d wanted forever, and it felt weird to just let it go when she actually, finally, had a chance.
There wasn’t a single mention of Josh, Granger, Nolan, or the police—a welcome change. An hour later, after a kiss at Caitlin’s car, Jeremy climbed on his Vespa and roared off into the distance, promising to call her later. Feeling much more contented, Caitlin headed home. She’d hoped to have a few hours to herself, but when she pulled into the driveway, her moms’ cars were already there, both of them home from work.
Sigh.
She put the car in park, grabbed her soccer bag and backpack, and girded herself for whatever was going to come next. NPR was on in the kitchen—a news story about raising backyard chickens. She could hear the steady chop chop chop of a knife hitting a cutting board and water running in the sink. She could tell from the familiar and comforting assortment of sounds that Sibyl and Mary Ann, her two moms, were cooking together. Caitlin tiptoed as quietly as she could toward the stairs, but too late—Mary Ann looked up and saw her. “Honey?” she called out.
Caitlin sighed. So much for getting a few minutes to herself. “Uh, hey,” she said, remaining where she was by the stairs.
Mary Ann’s eyes were sad. “Want to help us prep?”
Not really, Caitlin thought, but she knew refusing would mean one of her moms would follow her upstairs and ask even more plaintive, intrusive questions than the ones she’d get down here. So she trudged into the kitchen and accepted a cutting board and a bell pepper Sibyl offered.
“So how was your day?” Sibyl asked cautiously, her eyes flicking from Caitlin back to her own chopping work.
“Fine,” Caitlin answered.
She felt her moms exchange a glance. She knew they wanted more. Mary Ann cleared her throat. “Did they, um, talk about that teacher?”
Caitlin carefully cut the top off the pepper. “Yeah. A lot.”
Another exchanged glance. Caitlin’s moms had been silent and worried when they’d gotten the call on Sunday that she’d potentially been part of a murder plot. She’d told them again and again that it was just an unfortunate coincidence, but she wasn’t entirely sure they believed her. Just like she wasn’t sure they believed her about Nolan—Mary Ann had made pointed comments about Caitlin’s Oxy supply, after all, begging her to get rid of the stash. And though it came back that it was cyanide that had killed Nolan, not Oxy, there was Oxy in his blood, too. As the cops hadn’t dragged them back into the station yet, the subject had been momentarily dropped, but Caitlin knew it was swimming just below the surface, ready to erupt at a moment’s notice.
“And did you talk to Josh?” Mary Ann asked.
She looked up. Her moms were looking at her eagerly. Clearly, they wanted her to talk to Josh. Sibyl Martell and Mary Ann Lewis were best friends with the Friday parents, and though they hadn’t said it outright, it was clear that Caitlin’s dumping Josh for Jeremy had put a crimp in their social schedule. Their normal Saturday antiquing with the Fridays had been canceled for this weekend. So had Sunday brunch, which they did the first of every month, and their regular weekly Wednesday dinners. And Caitlin had heard the two of them whispering in their bedroom the night it happened—before she’d been fingerprinted for sneaking into Granger’s house, when Josh was all they’d had to worry about. Why do you think she’s doing this? they’d said in low murmurs. Is she acting out against us? Maybe this has something to do with Taylor? And: Poor Josh. He must be crushed.
She hated the Poor Josh part. What about poor her?