Page 47 of A Lifetime in 30 Days
No, she didn’t. Well, not normally. Her Camry was blue. But the Explorer she was renting because her car was in the shop was black.
“Don’t answer that,” Jovani directed.
“It rained pretty hard on Tuesday night, so witnesses couldn’t get a good look at a license tag, but they were adamant that it was a black SUV that was speeding down the road behind Elliot on the motorcycle,” Beaumont continued, his gaze locked on Vanna.
“We’re sorry to hear of his passing, but that has nothing to do with my client,” Jovani said. “Now, I’ve prepared an official statement from my client on what took place at her home yesterday.” She hadn’t seen the leather briefcase on the empty chair beside Jovani, but now he reached into it and pulled out a file folder of his own.
He set it on the table and used the tips of his fingers to push it in the direction of the detectives. “While you’re looking for your SUV, keep an eye out for this vehicle as well.”
Beaumont didn’t even glance at the folder, but Parish picked it up.
“Elliot Joble worked as a cage cashier with your husband,” Beaumont continued. “Perhaps that’s how he came to be in possession of your business card. Maybe you were referring him to one of the lawyers you work with, had your husband give him your card to set up a meeting. Or maybe ...” Beaumont leaned in, an annoying grin sliding across his face. “Maybe he needed your card so he could get in touch with you about the money from their last heist before the botched one. Seems every member from the team hadn’t received their payment for that job. Do you have their money, Mrs. Carlson?”
Jovani chuckled. “This fishing expedition is over, Detectives.” He grabbed his briefcase and stood.
Aden stood as well, and reached out a hand to help Vanna from her seat.
“If you get any leads on that car, please let us know,” Jovani said. “In the meantime, if my client sees it again, she’s calling 911, so make sure your guys know someone is stalking her. I’d hate to file a complaint against the department for ignoring my client’s concerns.”
Jovani moved from behind the table first and headed for the door. Vanna followed him, noting that neither of the detectives stood. WhenAden abruptly released her hand, she looked back to see him lean over the table to get into Beaumont’s face.
“And next time, I’d advise you to keep your eyes on her face,” Aden said, his voice tight with irritation, “or sexual harassment will be another complaint filed against you.”
Beaumont had the good sense to look momentarily flustered before Parish grumbled and stood. “Don’t leave town, Mrs. Carlson. This investigation isn’t over.”
Vanna didn’t acknowledge his words with a response, but let Aden take her hand in his again as they walked out of the room.
The front door was still intact, but the large picture window and a portion of the wall going toward the opposite side of the house was now covered with plywood. There was a huge dumpster on the grass in front of the house and supplies stacked in her driveway when she pulled up at almost 8:00 p.m.
For a few minutes, Vanna could only stare through the windshield at the mess. Then she whispered a prayer of thanks that it hadn’t been worse. Granny had refused to go to the ER, even when the uniformed officers had arrived and asked her several times. So Vanna had cleaned and put a bandage on the cut—which actually hadn’t been that deep—on her forehead. And the car had been towed a couple hours after the impact. But the fact that this could’ve been so much worse hadn’t escaped her.
Her grandmother could’ve been killed in an accident like this. The house could’ve had much more extensive damage that Vanna would have to figure out how to pay for. As it stood now, she didn’t want to put in a claim with her homeowner’s insurance for fear they would want to sue Granny and recoup any funds they paid out from Granny’s car insurance. Which was actually Vanna’s insurance as well, as Vanna had added her grandmother to her policy the momentGranny had retired. Either way she was going to end up paying for the damages, so leaving the homeowner’s policy out of the equation made even more sense.
But now, after all the grace that had seemingly been offered in that instance, a black SUV had run down some guy who Caleb used to work with. Lowering her forehead to the steering wheel, she wondered how she’d managed to draw the short straw when life’s journeys were being given out. Who the hell had she pissed off so badly that all this awful karma was coming back on her? Sighing, she almost chuckled at those thoughts. But she couldn’t laugh, couldn’t cry—hell, she was even tired of feeling at this point. She knew for certain she was tired of worrying every damn day. And that nagging feeling that there was more drama just waiting around a corner for its chance in line to wreak havoc in her life was turning into a burning rage.
When her forehead started to hurt, she lifted her head from the steering wheel and reached over to the passenger seat to grab her purse and phone. She hadn’t bothered to pack a lunch today since she’d gone into the office so late. The loud growl her stomach gave the moment she stepped out of the truck signaled that was a problem. Stepping over a bag of what looked like cement or sand, she made her way up the front steps and to the door. She could hear the music blasting from inside, and a smile ghosted her face.
Granny was safe, and Frito too. That’s all that mattered right now.
Vanna found her in the kitchen, barefoot and dressed in a white nightgown that stopped just above her ankles. Frito was sprawled on his stomach in front of the sink.
“Hey, Vannie,” Granny said when she turned to see Vanna enter. “I was just putting this plate in the microwave for you. Didn’t know how much longer you were gonna be, but I wanted you to have some dinner.”
“Thanks, Granny,” Vanna said, going closer and leaning in to kiss her grandmother’s cheek.
Granny wrapped her arms around Vanna when she was close and held on tight. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “So sorry to bring all this mess to your doorstep. I don’t know what came over me last night.”
Vanna hugged her grandmother back and kissed the top of her head. “Oh, probably that Long Island iced tea and that Mabeline temper.”
Granny chuckled as she pulled out of the embrace. “Yeah, well, I might be getting too old for them both.”
At the mention of that word, Vanna looked at Granny a little more closely. She did look older tonight. Something around her eyes and her mouth seemed tired, and her shoulders sagged just a little bit more. “What did you cook?” she asked, because thinking about her grandmother getting old and that brush with death last night was about to make her collapse into tears.
“I made a meat loaf. Some mashed potatoes and corn. I know you love to mix those two together,” Granny said, and reached into the microwave to take out the plate. She set it on the counter and was about to remove the foil she’d wrapped it in, but Vanna stopped her.
“Yesss, and thank you so much. I’m starving. But I want to get a shower first, so I’ll warm it up when I get done.”
“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Granny said. “Well, okay. Guess I’ll go on up and lay down.”
