Iced Tea Read online

  If he tried to control me, I’d be pissed, so why am I trying to control him?

  Thank goodness he walked in the door when my more reasonable side was winning.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi, Handsome, did you get whatever you were going to do done?”

  “I did.”

  “Are you going to tell me about it?”

  “I am not.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll give you a hint. A picture is worth a thousand words.”

  “Is that a photography joke?”

  “Kinda. I need you to do something for me.”

  I decided not to point out that asking for a favor while keeping secrets is not a good way to win hearts and influence people.

  “What?”

  “I need you to show up at the studio tomorrow morning at ten. I want you to see something.”

  “I think I can make it.”

  “Please. It’s important to me.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there.”

  I can be stubborn, but I’m not stupid. When AJ went in to clean the kitchen, and saw that it was all done, he came back out and asked how he could possibly make it up to me.

  I said it was no big deal since I like to clean.

  He reminded me of the comment that Teagan made earlier, about cleaning getting me all excited, and how he knew a few things that excited me more, and then, we were dancing, and he was whispering all those things in my ear, then, before I knew it, he was, you know, showing me just how wrong my sister can be, cause there are things in life, a whole lot more exciting than cleaning. I’m just sayin’.

  I walked into the photography studio about 5 minutes early. It’s not that I was trying to catch AJ doing something wrong, but it’s only polite to be on time.

  I was wearing my best jeans, and a top that my mother would not approve of in public, and I admit that my hair and makeup took longer than usual, but ya know what, if I’m gonna be stuck looking at some gorgeous model, half dressed, and my boyfriend or roommate or whatever the hell he is, telling her she is beautiful and wonderful, I’m gonna look my best doing it.

  Since the last time I’d been at the studio, they’d put a partition between the small front section and the actual studio, and I couldn’t see what was going on in there. Very frustrating.

  I couldn’t really just walk in, that would be wholly inappropriate, AJ’s workspace is out of bounds for pettiness.

  I stood looking at a bunch of framed photos, admittedly works of art, that were hung on a fake wall just inside the building windows, so that people walking by could see the work product of both AJ and Jovana.

  There was a beautiful picture of a woman on the beach. You could feel the sunset on the horizon, although it wasn’t part of the picture, it provided unbelievable light, the waves had cleaned the sand and it was smooth and shimmered. Just a few bubbles here and there from creatures unseen. No footprints. There was just enough of a breeze to blow the woman’s hair back. She looked ethereal. She was crouched down on her haunches, steadying a little tiny version of herself, a little girl just learning to walk, her toes in the wet sand. The little tiny girl had the same look on her face as the mother. Both looking toward the future. You could see it in their eyes.

  It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

  AJ’s business card was next to it.

  It gave me goose bumps.

  I couldn’t have been more proud if I’d taken the picture myself.

  I was just about to tear up, when AJ came rushing out of the studio and started up the stairs to the office area.

  He noticed me, smiled, and his eyes lit up. I love it when that happens.

  “Hi. I didn’t know you were here. I’m running a little late. Can you give me a few minutes?”

  “Sure. Anything I can do?”

  “No, I got it. Just give me a few. If you want to go over to the diner, I can call you when we’re ready.”

  I got the feeling that he didn’t want me around. Hurt my feelings. I admit it. Part of me wanted to storm off in a huff, but really, that is so cliché and an advertisement for all negative female reactions, so instead, I sucked it up and said, “Can I get you anything?”

  “Nope, I’m good. Ten minutes. That’s all I need.”

  “No hurry.” I made sure the door didn’t smack too loud when I left.

  True to his word, my phone vibrated ten minutes later, the text said, “We’re set.”

  I walked over to the studio, not paying attention, and damn near got run over by some idiot in a red car. Granted, I wasn’t really looking, but she wasn’t looking either, and she was driving.

  I walked in the door, and AJ was waiting for me.

  “Tell me what you really think. If you hate it, well, I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I want to know.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked in the studio. There were several different areas created. One was a simple brilliant blue background with a white column appearing out of nowhere. Another was a deep red settee sitting on a very vintage looking area rug, with a cream background. Another was yards and yards of beautiful powder pink velvet, molded and shaped to look like pink water flowing down the wall. Another was a very ornate mirror, looked like the huge mirror from the ballroom, only darker wood.

  I was walking into the space, when Morgan came around a beautiful rice paper partition.

  She was beaming.

  She was wearing a beautiful wedding dress. Huge. A ball-gown. It had a strapless sweetheart neckline, very fitted at the waist with beautiful crystals and embroidery. The skirt part of the dress had a dropped waist, with heavy embroidery following princess seams and expanding at the bottom to join the embroidery and crystals from the next seam over. It had a long train and scalloped bottom in the front and no veil and it was simply stunning.

  I wish Teagan were here, she would explain it so much better. She knows all the proper terms.

  Suffice it to say, Morgan looked so beautiful, I cried.

  Morgan came to me, hugged me, and said; “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

  “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even know about it. This was all AJ.”

  “He said you inspired him.”

  “Damn, I’m good.”

  AJ laughed, “You have no idea. We won’t make the bride blush just before her photo shoot.”

  Morgan had a look of wonder about her. “I still can’t believe that I get to choose any of them. Any.”

  AJ filled me in. “I figured that a bride would want a nice dress in Jovana’s ballroom.”

  “You figured right.”

  “I made a few calls. Morgan is a beautiful woman, but she looks like a real woman, not some model, you can tell she’s an honest to God glowing bride. We’re going to do a shoot, in a bunch of different settings, in a bunch of different dresses. The designer gets to use the images for advertisement. I’m using them in my portfolio. Morgan gets to choose any dress she wants for her wedding.”

  “You are a genius.”

  AJ laughed. “I have a good idea now and then.”

  Morgan laughed. “We haven’t told anybody. Not even Liam. He knows I’ve got a dress, but he has no idea I have a dress like this. These dresses cost more than my car.”

  “Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

  “Well, AJ said that last night you were not amused. After the call from Liam, and then his strange comings and goings, I guess I wouldn’t have been thrilled with Liam either, but Cara, AJ is a great guy, you have nothing to worry about.”

  AJ blushed, then said, “We gotta get started. The hair and makeup people are on a schedule, and we aren’t giving them all that many pictures for their portfolios. Cara, do you want to stay and watch, or would you rather be surprised with Morgan’s choice for a wedding dress.”

  “You’ve already decided?”

  “Yep. Yesterday. Just before Liam called.”

  “You decided all by yourself?”

  “I
am capable of making a decision, Cara.”

  “It’s not that. I know you can decide on your own wedding dress. It’s just that we would have loved to be a part of it. I know it’s a little bit selfish on our part, but Teagan and I are horning in on everything we can.”

  “I’m so used to doing everything alone, I didn’t even think of it.”

  AJ broke the tension, “Hey, I’m just a guy. I don’t shop at all.”

  “You always look great.”

  “Yeah, well, if you ever say anything, I’ll deny it, but almost all of my clothes are from Suzi. She loves to shop. She sends me a big box. I send her a big check. It all works out.”

  “Even your shoes?”

  “Yep.”

  “Men are so weird.”

  “Speaking of shoes…” Morgan pulled up the beautiful white dress. She was wearing bright red heels about 5 inches tall. Outrageously sexy stilettos were the perfect juxtaposition from the virginal white dress.

  “It’s up to you Morgan. If you want me here, I’m here. If you want to do this on your own, or keep your dress a surprise, or whatever works for you, that’s what I’ll do.”

  “I think I’ll just do this with AJ. I am kind of nervous. I’m not a model. I really appreciate all that you’ve done, but I think this will work better if I do it alone.”

  “Not a problem. You’re a better woman than I. I’m not sure I could do this at all, but then again, my God, you are beautiful. When Liam sees you, he is going to lose it. The guys in my family try to pretend that Rory is the only emotional one, but it’s not true. You’ll have Liam crying like a baby. Morgan, you bring such good things to our family, including being the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

  “Don’t make me mess up my makeup.” She gave me a quick hug. “Thanks again Cara. If it weren’t for you and AJ, and Jovana, none of this would have happened. I’d still have been very happy to marry Liam anywhere, any time, wearing jeans if that is the way that it worked out, but I have to admit, this is a lot more fun.”

  AJ walked me to the door.

  My voice shook as I said, “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure princess.”

  I cried all the way home.

  Good tears.

  I got home, determined to figure out the whole thing with Officer Jerkface, because it was mostly his fault that I was so cranky last night, that I acted like an idiot when AJ was just trying to do something absolutely wonderful for me, well, for Morgan, but if it hadn’t been for me, Morgan would never have met AJ, so I’m taking credit for his kindness and I’m gonna think of it as being directed at me.

  I decided to set up a little workstation on the kitchen table. I got a pad of paper and my favorite purple pen, the journals that were still on my desk, which is just weird, because if they had anything to do with undercover police work, the cops should have picked them up long ago. I made myself a cup of tea.

  Settled in, I decided the best way to approach the whole thing was to start from the beginning. I decided to create a timeline and see if that told me anything.

  I started all the way back when I’d quit my job, because life really seemed to take a turn for the interesting right after I went in and told my boss that I was done. I couldn’t do one more day there. I’d give her two weeks notice if she needed it, but if it was all the same to her, I’d just go home and never come back. I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t even really all that depressed or disgusted. Sometimes you just know when you’re done, and I was done.

  I made a little slash across my time line for when AJ moved in, and when Bernie died. I had to look up the date that I started looking for the murderer of Mrs. Ivy-Rosenbloom, which, I will admit, sounds kind of stupid, but at the time, it was a potential income stream. Fortunately, my gazillion searches were still in my search engine history.

  I made another slash for the date that I wrote the first email to Louis’s brother Steven, that’s when I got mixed up with the whole search the condo get the attention of Officer Jerkface thing.

  I made a slash for the day that Officer Jerkface showed up at my parents after Bernie’s wake. Another for when he showed up at my parent’s just to talk. Another for when he showed up at the cemetery when I was bringing Bernie flowers. Another for when he showed up at Louis’s condo and Teagan almost killed him with the Teagan the Terrible Body Slam. Another for the first time he showed up at Louis’s condo. Another for the first time he showed up at my apartment.

  I decided that I was too focused on Officer Jerkface and I really needed to think about the other stuff that had been going on. I made a slash mark for the day I started reading Louis’s journals, when it hit me.

  I’m an idiot.

  I grabbed the first journal and opened it up.

  I read it again.

  I feel stupid writing this down. I’m not the type of person that writes in a journal. This journal is tantamount to a confession, and I’m smarter than that.

  The problem is human nature. People don’t keep their mouth shut. Crimes are solved by some asshole shooting off his mouth. CSI shit is useful after the fool is caught.

  I am writing this down for two reasons. So I don’t miss anything. So I don’t lose it.

  The next part told me everything, well, actually, it told me nothing, other than the fact that Officer Jerkface is a freaking liar!

  If you are reading this (I assume it is you Joseph) I am under arrest, or in a psych ward. Either way – sorry for not confiding in you. I knew that you would be forced to turn me in and I couldn’t do that to either of us…

  I wanted to jump up and call Joe-the-cop, or Officer Jerkface, which ever, and ask him why the hell an undercover officer would feel the need to write in his journal that he was sorry he hadn’t confided in his partner and why he thought he’d be turned in if the truth got out. That doesn’t sound like a cop working with the cops to me.

  Although I’m dumb, I try not to be stupid, and laying all your cards on the table, when you don’t know what the other person has, and you aren’t sure what game you’re actually playing, is stupid.

  If you’re playing Poker, doesn’t matter if you have an excellent hand for Old Maid.

  Why Old Maid came to mind, is not something I’m going to think about right now.

  So, if Joe-the-cop was screwing with me, then chances are good that all the stuff he’s told me so far is a lie, and if all the stuff he’s told me so far is a lie, then I need to find out what the hell is going on.

  I walked over to the coffee table and picked up my phone, trying to decide who to call. Mom and Daddy are always a good choice, but I’m not sure that I want to get them in the middle of all this. Rory is an obvious choice, since he’s a cop and everything. Teagan would be my regular go to person, but I don’t want her to get into trouble, and I have no idea what any of this means, or how bad it is, or if people have really died, or if Joe-the-cop is some sick whacked out weirdo.

  Speaking of whackos, I talked myself back from the edge. Out loud, I think.

  Take a breath.

  Make a cup of tea.

  Calm down.

  Teagan has great timing. The moment I put down my cup, the phone rang.

  “Hi.”

  “Something you wanted to tell me, Cara?”

  Damn, she’s getting to be more like Mom every day. How did she know?

  I whined, “I wasn’t sure who I was going to tell. I thought maybe Mom, but that seemed like a bad idea, then Rory, but I don’t want to go there with him if I can avoid it, so then I was thinking about you, but I wasn’t sure yet, cause I always call you and that’s just not fair.”

  “Of course you were supposed to call me. I’m the one that was in charge. We discussed this.”

  “In charge?”

  “Okay, maybe not in charge, in charge, but I wanted to be a part of it.”

  “I was worried someone might get hurt.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Cara. I’m not that emotionally fragile.”

  “It�
��s not your emotions I was worried about.”

  “Fist fights over wedding gowns only happen in the movies, and some bridal sales, Cara.”

  “What?”

  “Morgan’s dress. Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

  “Oh, Morgan’s dress. How did you find out about Morgan’s dress?”

  “Morgan told Liam, Liam told Rory, Rory told Sinead, Sinead told Mom and Mom told me.”

  “So much for keeping it a secret.”

  “The fact that she has a dress isn’t a secret, what the dress looks like is a secret.”

  “Oh. I guess I screwed that up.”

  “So, two problems. If you weren’t going to tell me about the dress, then what were you talking about, and why the hell weren’t you going to tell me about the dress.”

  “Last problem first. I was going to tell you, I just haven’t been home all that long and I was trying to figure out the whole Officer Jerkface thing.”

  “Who is Officer Jerkface?”

  “Joe-the-cop.”

  “Don’t confuse me Cara. What’s going on?”

  “It just seems like everywhere I turn there’s another fact that doesn’t quite add up about the whole Joe-the-cop, murder by the numbers, thing.”

  “There’s stuff you haven’t told me, isn’t there?”

  “A little bit.”

  “Cara, you tell me everything, what the hell is going on?”

  “I didn’t tell you because Joe-the-cop told me that it would put you in danger, and I figured since I’d already used up all your vacation time, it would be rude to have you killed too.”

  “You didn’t use up all my vacation time, and did it even dawn on you that maybe Joe-the-cop is less than honest and forthright, and that maybe, just maybe, he is playing you like a fine fiddle?”