Page 39 of Secrets Along the Shore
They will listen, Lilian confirmed.
“And they listened to you?”Livia sounded shocked as she served me a plate of steamed broccoli and chicken alfredo. It smelled delicious—well, the alfredo did.
“For now, anyway.” I’d just taken her through today’s events at the station.
Livia’s hair was up in a curly mass on the top of her head, which only served to make her blue-dyed curls bluer. She sat down opposite me at her table. Sometimes I found myself just staring at her. Her features, her eyes, her skin. If I were honest, I felt plain beside her. Livia would hate it if I ever admitted that, but she was beautiful. Inside and out. Unscarred by the world. Her parents had raised her in a strong home. She had a good family. She didn’t hold my upbringing against me, and she didn’t hold me in the box of a victim. Livia had helped me break free of that. To learn to live—even if I avoided the past.
Now, she was rescuing me again. Her and her big heart.
Livia pulled a foot up and perched it on her chair so one knee stuckup in the air while her other foot rested on the floor. She stabbed a piece of broccoli, eyed it, and then popped it in her mouth. She must have noticed that I was questioning her surveillance of the piece of broccoli, and she added, “When I was kid, my Gramma June used to garden and she’d bring in the broccoli and boil it. All these green worms would float to the top like little sailors. Every now and then, one would make it through to my plate. So I learned to check my broccoli before I eat it.”
“That’s so unappetizing.” I shoved my broccoli to the opposite end of my plate.
Livia laughed. “I’ve never found a worm on broccoli from the grocery store, Noa.”
“Don’t they have worm powder or something to spray on the plants to kill the worms?” I was way off topic, but for the moment, it felt like a relief.
“Sure they do.” Livia jabbed at more green on her plate. “Gramma June refused to use anything chemical, and the only thing she would do is plant marigolds by the broccoli. She said their beauty ‘scares away those worms.’ ” Livia mimicked her grandmother’s lilt. She popped a piece of broccoli in her mouth. “But they didn’t. At least, not all of them.”
“I have no intention of eating this broccoli now, you realize that?”
She just grinned. “So, what’s our next move?”
“Our?” I tossed back.
“Well.” Livia wagged her fork at me. “You’re in my house, so, yeah,ours.”
“You live in a mobile home.” I scanned the length of the rented unit not in disdain but just to make a point.
“Home. House. Stop dancing around the broccoli and the truth, Noa, and let’s keep going. What’s next?”
Livia knew me too well.
As soon as I ever had any breakthrough in life, even the most minute one, I froze. Or I shut down. The fact was, I didn’t know how to handle good things. I was—as my therapist years ago had put it— “geared for trauma.”
“I didn’t expect Dickson to buy into my theory,” I admitted. Then Ieyed the broccoli on my plate. The temptation was too great. I had to pick up a piece and dissect it.
“I know you didn’t.” Livia propped her forearm on her knee. “So that means two things to me. The police are desperate, and you had merit in your idea.”
“Thanks?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously. It’s only logical, isn’t it? If the police had something strong to go on, they wouldn’t waste time on a theory unless it aligned with their evidence. And, police wouldn’t waste time on a bad theory, period. So you might be on to something. Own it, girl.”
I smiled a wobbly smile as I dismembered the broccoli stalk in order to avoid eye contact.
“So? What’s our next move?”
Back to that. I shrugged, dropping the broccoli stalk, naked of all its blossoms and void of any roly-polies, to my plate. “I don’t know. I gave them my theory, but I wouldn’t have the first clue who to look at as a suspect. I don’t have their databases and search engines and all that techy stuff they can do now.”
“I think a lot of that is just on TV.” Livia sipped her water. “What about Sophia’s boyfriend? There was a lot of talk he was up for number one suspect.”
I hadn’t told Livia about the conversation I’d overheard at work. “I don’t think it was Dereck, and Reuben indicated they didn’t have a strong connection between the women. So that’d equal no other strong suspects, wouldn’t it?”
Livia considered for a moment. “Sure, but look at Dereck through your new lens. Does he match?”
“I don’t know Dereck,” I admitted.
Livia grinned. “So that’s where we start.”
