A Brilliant Plan

Chapter 2

Apologies for the long wait, but I had been away on vacations and had some issues with accessing Wattpad from afar. 

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Chapter 2

THE GOAL OF an unspoken pact between my parents and me was to prevent embarrassing situations for all of us—all of the time. Mom didn't inquire about the possibilities and I didn't offer any explanations. Eat that, Mr. Freud.

I shook my head, a little embarrassed to bring the police into the sacred house of my parents, gave my face a wash over the kitchen sink and went into the den. On my way, I quickly checked myself in an Indonesian antique mirror, black teak wood and little Asian dragon figurines framing my face. My hair could use a cut one of these days, definitely a wash after last night's events. On a good day, my big blue eyes dominated my face but today they looked dull and puffy. Well, it had to do for the cops. Clothes check: black slacks and figure-hugging black shirt made up my Thanksgiving wardrobe and always made a good impression. My flat Prada shoes pushed me up half an inch to five nine. No make-up. I stood straighter to appear reassured and a little larger than life.

The den was a huge reading room in the back of the house overlooking the wild garden. It had glass bay windows down to the floor and hosted about ten thousand books in all formats, colors, languages and subjects. The books climbed the walls all the way up to the eleven-foot ceilings. Comfortable sofas were arranged in a semi-circle around the bay window and a small coffee table offered two steaming mugs on little tea lights to the cops. I hoped that Mom hadn't served them poison ivy tea.

The two plain-clothes detectives looked up, put the books they were looking at down and rose when I entered the room. We shook hands and they introduced themselves.

The male detective was a handsome guy, in his early thirties, probably near my own age. He had dark blond hair with a tendency to curl—some other adjectives that applied were big and strong, a body to rest your head on. Or whatever else. I immediately wished for a closer acquaintance. As I squinted at his left hand, wondering if he was attached, he flashed his shield, ID and professional smile, and announced, "My name is Ron Closeky, detective second grade, San Diego PD homicide."

His partner was Hispanic. She was small, compact, with coal black penetrating eyes and short black hair. She looked as if she could handle her share of a barroom fight without a problem. "Juanita Garcia, pleased to meet you," she recited, obviously without meaning it, "from B and E SDPD." She threw out the acronym as if I should know it by heart.

"Excuse me, B and E?" I inquired innocently enough.

"Breaking and Entering Unit," she explained, "San Diego Police Department. Burglary, thieving, car-jacking, you know?"

"No, I don't," I said.

Detective McCloseky sat down beside me and Detective Garcia stood over at the bookshelf, almost out of my line of vision, pretending to study some titles while she listened in. Good cop, bad cop, here they come. I thought.

Detective McCloseky explained the reason for their visit. "Miss Moonstone, there is an issue that we have to clarify... "

At that instant, Mom popped her head in the door. "Can I bring you anything more? Coffee, lemonade, soda?" Good timing, Mom! I bet she had been eavesdropping the whole time.

If Detective McCloseky was annoyed, he did not show it. Instead, he gave her a charming smile that offered her all of his perfect teeth. "Thank you, Mrs. Stone, we are fine."

"Oh, all right then," Mom's head disappeared but I wondered if she continued listening in.

"Miss Moonstone, do you know why we are here?" He began again. So Mom had already ousted me as not-married and had qualified him as a suitor.