Page 9 of Little Dark Deeds
I hoisted myself up on my arm, leaning in for a kiss.“I’d want to be by your side too.”
As I pondered what life abroad might be like—long days spent strolling along the charming, locally owned café’s, gelato in hand—he jolted me out of the thought with a question.
“Not to put a damper on the end of our day, but have you heard from Tiffany?”
“I haven’t.I considered calling her father, Ron, but by the time it crossed my mind, it was much too late.I’ll try her again when we’re up for the day.If she doesn’t answer, I’ll give him a call.”
I’d known Ron Wheeler since elementary school.He’d been one of my teachers.He wasn’t too fond of me at first, given the rivalry Tiffany and I once had.By the time I graduated, and our friendship was going strong, he softened toward me.Years later, he became mayor, and I a police officer and then a detective.During those years, we worked together on some of my more public cases, though since he’d retired, we hadn’t seen each other much.
As Giovanni drifted off to sleep beside me, my eyelids grew heavy, and a smile crossed my lips.
Today I had a new name: Georgiana Germaine-Luciana.
It had a nice ring to it.
CHAPTER 6
My eyes flickered open, and I found myself in the home Tiffany had purchased in Cambria back in 2021.It was an older home, and during its remodel, she’d discovered something shocking—a body hidden within the walls.As I sought out the identity of her mysterious John Doe, the investigation took an unexpected turn.It turned out John Doe’s death was tied to the murder of my father, who’d died in a hit-and-run accident when I was a child.
It was then I realized my father’s death was no accident.
One murder to be solved became two.
And solve them, I did.
In the past few years, our schedules had been busy, and Tiffany and I hadn’t spent as much time together.A couple months earlier, we met up for lunch and promised to make a bigger effort to see each other once I was married.
At present, I was sitting in Tiffany’s living room, wondering why I was there when she didn’t seem to be, and not being able to recall how I got there in the first place.I was dressed in the same white satin brocade nightgown I’d worn to bed, which confused me even more.
What was I doing here?
And why?
It felt a lot more comforting to remain in denial, to believe everything was fine ...that Tiffany was safe, happy, and alive.To believe she had a good reason for skipping our wedding.Every fiber of my being wanted to believe it, even though not one fiber did.
If she was fine, I wouldn’t be here.
