Jane’s lips pout, like Howie’s when he’s on the verge of tears. “Oh, I had so looked forward to enjoying a family dinner.”
“And so we have, Jane, dear. We just won’t have a family dessert.” Father waves me away with a smile. “Run along, Piper. Have a wonderful evening.”
Jeremiah stands in the entryway looking like his normal, well-groomed self. He sweeps his trilby from his head and nods to me. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner.”
“Not your fault. Where are Emma and Robbie?”
“In the car.” He grins down at me as he settles his hat back on his head. His blue eyes have a unique sparkle to them, one that I can’t quite read. “You look beautiful, Piper.” While he doesn’t make my stomach swirl like Mariano, there’s something undeniably fetching about him.
“Thank you. You . . . look very nice too.” What an awkward thing to say. I reach for my handbag on the coatrack only to find it isn’t there. “I must have left my bag in my room. This will only take a second.”
“Take your time,” Jeremiah says as I clatter up the stairs.
Yep, there it is, on my bed. I had loaded it earlier in preparation for my night out, including my notebook, Nick’s pocket knife, and several other unorthodox items to take on a double date.
On a fake double date.
I snatch the bag, pivot toward the door, and pause.
My nightstand drawer is open.
Just an inch or so, but my most important belongings are in there. I never leave it open.
I slide the drawer open all the way and survey the contents. Everything seems to be here—several photographs of and cards from Lydia and Mother, Mother’s Bible, and Matthew’s letter are still in their places. Yet I can’t shake away the unease.
I close the drawer and look around. There were movers in my room this afternoon, stacking Jane’s boxes in the corner. Perhaps they bumped my nightstand? Or it could have been Joyce when she changed sheets. Maybe her skirt or the sheet snagged on the knob and pulled the drawer out?
Regardless of how it happened, nothing’s missing. No harm done.
Right?
Downstairs, Jeremiah offers me his arm with a confident smile, and we leave the house.
When I’ve pulled the door shut behind us, Jeremiah bends his head close to mine. “I was relieved to hear you’d be joining us tonight. Robbie is a nice enough guy, but that’s my sister he’s getting cozy with, you know?”
I scrunch my nose, thinking of times that I’ve heard Jane gush about romantic gestures from my father. “I do.”
Parked outside my house is Robbie’s automobile, an older model with no top. My hair will be a wreck by the time we reach the theater. The driver—Robbie, I presume—has his hat pulled low, and Emma waves and smiles from the passenger seat.
Oh. I’ll be riding in the back with Jeremiah. For some reason, I had imagined the boys riding up front. But this is part of the work I’m doing for Emma. It’s fine. Mariano knows what’s going on.
And how should I bring up Mariano to Jeremiah? Should I just say it? You should know that I’m seeing someone. And that he carries a gun. Or should I be more subtle? Have you ever tried Pompei’s? I had it for the first time last night with Detective Cassano.
“My sister informs me that I have some competition.” Jeremiah’s words are low and almost playful as he holds open the front gate for me.
I pause and look up at him.
He grins, clearly pleased to have caught me off guard. “Did you not intend for me to know?”
“It’s not that. I wasn’t sure about the proper way to bring it up.”
“Well, Emma did your dirty work for you.”
He seems unaffected. Have I been wrong about his interest in me? This will certainly be much easier if I was.
At the car, Jeremiah holds the handle of the backseat door, but doesn’t open it right away. “In my line of work, where competition is inevitable, you learn quickly that you have a choice about how to deal with it. You can wilt, you can grow paranoid, or you can use it as motivation to work hard and let the best man win.” His gaze skims my face, lingering on my mouth before meeting my eyes again. “I choose the third.”
I don’t know how to answer, but that doesn’t seem to bother Jeremiah. He opens the door and gestures for me to climb inside.
“Why, hello girls.”
I look up from washing my hands and find Mrs. Barrow smiling at me and Emma in the bathroom mirror. “Oh, hello.”
“It makes me feel very young and hip to be at the same place you are on a Saturday night.” Mrs. Barrow offers a showy sigh. “Though, David and I caught the earlier movie and are on our way home. The boys just don’t sleep well if I’m not there.”
“How nice it must feel to get out, though.” Emma offers her lipstick to me, and I shake my head no.
“I don’t want to give your brother the wrong impression.”