Georgia didn’t have a chance to tell Jimmy about her new case until that night. She’d picked up Vanna from Oakton Community College around three. After completing her high school degree online, Savannah, her half-sister and Charlie’s mother, was now studying graphic design. Today had been a special class where students gathered in person, following the correct socially distancing protocols, to get back their midterm exams. Georgia’s only close friend, Samantha Mosele, was a graphic designer. Savannah and Sam were discussing an internship if Vanna got A’s in her courses.
“Guess what, Georgia?” Vanna climbed into Georgia’s red Toyota.
“What, sweetie?”
“I got an A on my midterm!” She grinned.
“Wow! That is cool.”
“It really is,” Vanna chattered. “Everyone says Robinson is a tough grader, and he never gives girls A’s. Some of the women were even thinking of filing a discrimination lawsuit about it. But then, he gave me an A and told the whole class.”
“Really?”
“You’re probably thinking he did that so they wouldn’t drag him into court. I did too at first. But I don’t think so now.” A younger version of Georgia with the same thick blond hair, brown eyes, and slim build, Vanna played with a lock of hair just like Georgia used to and tucked it behind one ear. “He told everyone why he gave me the A.”
Georgia arched an eyebrow.
“He said the presentation was not only graphically outstanding but showed a lot of thought. That I understood the criteria and came up with designs that were clean, crisp, professional, and get this—stunning.”
“He said ‘stunning’?”
“He did!” Vanna’s voice swelled with pleasure. “I couldn’t believe it.”
“I’m so proud of you. You have to tell Sam. Looks like that internship might actually happen.”
Vanna’s grin widened. “I’ll call her after Charlie’s in bed.”
Georgia wanted to warn her to be careful around her teacher. A man who gave out such profuse compliments might be looking for something more than homework from an attractive student like her sister. But Vanna was so excited Georgia didn’t have the heart to bring her down. She kept her mouth shut.
They drove east to Northglen where their mother was babysitting Charlie. JoBeth answered the door, Charlie on her hip. As soon as he saw Vanna, he stretched out his arms. Vanna scooped him up and gave him a hug. She was turning out to be a great mother, Georgia thought. Much better than JoBeth had been. Probably better than Georgia herself might be.
Georgia had a complicated history with her mother, Vanna, not as much. JoBeth had walked out of Georgia’s life when she was twelve, and Georgia hadn’t heard a word from her until a year ago. Over twenty years without even a damn birthday card. Vanna didn’t have it that bad. When her mother had run from town to town, always making a fresh start someplace new, she dragged Vanna with her. Of course, a vagabond life was no picnic, and Vanna had run away from JoBeth when she was sixteen. She’d come to Chicago where Georgia eventually found her, broke, miserable, and pregnant. At least that was the version they told people.
JoBeth had followed them to Chicago a few months later. Now the three women were trying to make a go of being a family for the first time in their lives. Georgia took it a day at a time. She wasn’t convinced this was a good idea.
“Charlie didn’t nap very long today.” JoBeth gathered up his toys and dropped them into a canvas bag. “He’s got the sniffles. I hope it isn’t Covid. Probably not. They say kids don’t get it.” She stroked his straw-colored hair. “But you never know.”
When they were together, it was clear they looked like a family. JoBeth had cleaned up since she’d come to town. Her hair was blond with nary a strand of gray, and her brown eyes sparkled, especially when she was with Charlie. She’d started AA and had just finished her ninety in ninety, she proclaimed with pride. But Georgia was tentative. A cautionary voice told her to protect herself. She wasn’t sure she could ever forgive her mother completely. She’d been abandoned once. She never wanted to revisit the pain.
“I’ll make sure he’s comfy, cozy, and warm.” Vanna nuzzled Charlie’s neck.
“I know you will, darling,” JoBeth said. Originally from Georgia, JoBeth had lost most of her southern accent. It was only when she was showering endearments on her daughters and grandson that Georgia could pick up the remnants of her drawl. “And how are you doing, Peaches?”
Georgia gave her mother a faint smile. “Good. You?”
“Now that I’m back with my girls, I’m hunky-dory.” She beamed.
Back home at Georgia’s apartment, she started to make dinner while Savannah fed and bathed Charlie. Jimmy didn’t get there until seven thirty, after Charlie was in bed. Georgia wanted to talk about her new case, but Jimmy needed to eat first. She warmed up roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and caramelized brussels sprouts.
The pandemic had turned Georgia into a surprisingly decent cook, an activity she used to disparage. What else was she supposed to do with her time? Her dyslexia kept her reading to a minimum, and she was sure Netflix was rotting her brain. Cooking didn’t require much reading, and she’d become confident enough to experiment with online recipes, finding substitutes for exotic spices or seasonings she didn’t have. Neither Vanna nor Jimmy complained, so she figured she must be doing something right. At least right enough.
She’d tried to make crème brûlée for dessert, but it was runny. She gave Jimmy some anyway, with a few cookies on the side. He took a spoonful, and his eyes widened like a little kid’s. “What is this? It’s wonderful!”
She smiled. “It’s called crème brûlée. Fancy vanilla custard topped with caramelized sugar.”
“Oh, Georgia, you keep feeding me like this, you’ll roll me out the door.”
She saw her opening. “Don’t worry about that. I won’t have time. Looks like I’ve got some work.”
Jimmy spooned more dessert. “Really? You have a case?”
“Maybe.” She explained the situation. “I have to talk to the doctor who was supervising the vaccinations. I figure I’ll need to interview everyone who was there the day Susan’s aunt died. But that shouldn’t be hard. The doctor’s name is Richard Blackstone, and he’s affiliated with Mercy Hospital. They ought to have a list. Then I want to check with the manufacturer and see what shakes loose. In the meantime, Susan’s mother is ordering some post-mortem tests. She’s wants to find out exactly what killed her sister.”
He stopped spooning his dessert. “People have died from Covid vaccines. Not nearly at the same rate as the disease, of course, but from what I understand, it’s usually—”
“I know, and I’m sure she does too, but she’s determined to pinpoint the reason. Which is why I’m telling you. Like I said, I should learn the most by contacting the manufacturer. Maybe a few vials were somehow contaminated. They’re Jefferson Medical. A Fortune 500 company. Big Pharma.”
“Really big Pharma.”
“Exactly. And I doubt they’re going to talk to me. I’m a nobody. I might need your help. You’re the law. You have more clout.”
Jimmy scraped the now-empty bowl with his spoon, as if trying to find a little more dessert magically hiding in plain sight, then pushed it away. “Hey, babe, I’m not a city cop. Or even a county sheriff. I’m just the head of the police at a summer resort. I don’t think they’d talk to me, either.”
“Why not? You could say you know the dead woman’s niece. Which you do.”
“Why don’t you go to your pal O’Malley? The deaths happened in his backyard. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind being a tiny cog in the machine.” He took one of the cookies. “And I’d do anything to help you out.” He patted his stomach. “And eat your fine cooking. But O’Malley might get better results.”
Dan O’Malley was Chief of Police in Northglen and had been a good friend to Georgia when she was on the force. “That’s true.” She took a cookie from Jimmy’s plate. “And for all I know the Feds could already be involved and have kept a lid on it. There’s been no coverage of the incident. Not even local.”
“Yet,” Jimmy said.
“Right. Which is another thing that’s strange. I thought unexplained deaths had to be reported to the CDC or WHO. As well as Cook County or the Illinois Health Department. There’s got to be some ambitious reporters begging for Covid updates a dozen times a day.”
“Who knows? It’s great that we have competent people in charge now, but it’s impossible to iron out all the flaws in the system overnight.”
Georgia stopped chewing her cookie. “I don’t see this as more than a two-or-three-day job. I can get the lot number that was used the day she died. From there the manufacturer can track the chain of chain custody and figure out what happened.”
“And if you strike out?”
“I’ll go to O’Malley. Maybe the Feds.” She gazed at him. His dark hair, Roman nose, and dark eyes with laugh lines at the corners had become the first face she wanted to see in the morning and the last one she wanted to see at night. Now, though, a spark of irritation flashed through her. “You know you drive me crazy, right? Always asking the ‘what if’ questions. You’d think I was a real investigator.”
He grinned and started to sing. “Cray-zee for tryin’, and cra-zee for cryin’…”
Jimmy was so disarming that Georgia couldn’t help laughing. “Patsy Cline ain’t got nothing on you.”
She picked up his dishes and took them toward the sink. He intercepted her, took the dishes, and set them on the counter. “Nope. You’re done. I’ll clean up.”
She turned around. Jimmy trapped her between his arms and kissed her.
“You taste like crème brûlée,” she said.
He dropped kisses along her cheek, then her neck. “It’s not as sweet as you.”
She slipped under his arm and slithered out of his grasp. “Nope. Not until you swear to help me with Jefferson Medical.”
“Holy shit, Georgia.” He shook his head. “You are one persistent woman.”