I set my luggage at the door, ready to go, about to head downstairs and wait for Vivian to text me she was outside, far more excited to leave New York than I had been to arrive here. When someone knocked, I frowned a little, wondering why Vivian would have come up to get me, only to find Simone Alexander on the other side.
She hugged me before I could say anything, squeezing me tight. “I wanted to say goodbye,” she said, letting me go with tears in her eyes. “Fee, I’m so glad we reconnected. I know this trip didn’t go the way you planned, and my sister is a nightmare, but I wanted to tell you in person, I’m your friend. I always have been.”
I hugged her again, a little teary myself. This was actually a better sendoff than I’d been expecting. “The next time I’m in town,” I said.
“You’d better call.” She laughed. “And the next time I’m in Vermont…” her voice took on a far-away tone of longing. “Maybe I’ll come for an extended visit. In December.” She laughed when I touched my tummy and the itty-bitty swimming there. “Stay in touch, okay?” She took hold of my carry-on, rolling it out the door for me, so I shouldered my bag and followed.
“How is your sister?” I needed to ask, and Simone seemed to accept that.
“Still with Ryan, if that’s what you mean.” She made a disagreeable face, then shrugged. “It’s on Jazz now, Fee. And if he breaks her heart, so be it. She knows what he is, has all the proof she needs.” She snorted then, angry as the elevator opened to us. “Can you believe he told her the woman was an old friend and the kiss meant nothing?”
Old friends, huh? “Yeah, he’s great at his excuses and stories.” Made me very sad for the elder Alexander, but as Simone said, that was on Jazz. “Take care of her when it’s over, Simmy.” I used the nickname her sister assigned her for the first time since I’d seen her again. “She’s going to need a shoulder to lean on.”
“You know I will.” We stepped off the elevator into the lobby, Simone pulling my bag like she planned to come home with me, pausing at last at the glass entry, people rushing by reminding me why I loved Reading so much. Yes, it was busy, but not big city busy. I’d take the quiet buzz of summer in my hometown any day. “If I asked you to look into Ryan…?” Simone stopped herself when I shook my head.
“There are lots of great PIs here in New York,” I said. “Hire one. Please, leave me out of it, okay?”
She nodded then, licked her lips, staring out into the sunshine. “I knew better than to ask, but I had to, Fee. She’s my sister and I trust you.”
“Then trust me when I tell you I’m the last person you want investigating Ryan Richards.” I took the handle of my bag from her. “If you need someone to talk to, reach out. But I’m done with my old life. And I’d love you to be part of this one I’ve built.”
She beamed at me, hugged me one last time. “Stay safe, Fee.”
“You too, Simone,” I said. “Go kick some bad guy butt for me.”
She waved as she exited, pausing to do the same to Vivian who pulled up just outside the doors. I pushed my way out into the lovely morning, honking and general city noise getting to me as I loaded my bag into the trunk of her white Mercedes before joining her in the front seat. The luxury car’s soundproofing made the outside world go away again, Vivian smiling at me as I slipped on my seatbelt.
“Ready?” Her blue eyes seemed sad.
“So ready,” I said.
We didn’t talk much on the drive, Vivian’s radio delivering the best mix of pop tunes from our teenage years through the epic sound system that had me singing along and bopping to the music, my icy friend joining me with laughter and the kind of camaraderie I knew she was missing from her life. And it made me wonder if, in fact, her brother Vincent hadn’t died so tragically, if Vivian and I had stayed friends, would she have become my bestie instead of Daisy?
No way. But it would likely have been the three amigos, so her exclusion due to lies, deceit and murder only made my heart ache for what could have been.
At least I had her now, right?
My exodus from Manhattan felt much more triumphant than my arrival, the trip through the tunnel bittersweet and yet satisfying at the same time. Before I knew it, we were circling to the front of arrivals at LaGuardia, the end to my case—and my past—about to be left behind me.
Vivian dropped me at the terminal, getting out to hug me, ignoring the glares of the staff who wanted her to move along from the busy arrivals area, her arms tight and her body trembling just a little.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I know you know, but I appreciate you, Fee. So much. If you ever need anything.” She stopped, caught her breath, let me go. Blinked tears and smiled. “I’m glad I found you again.”
“Viv,” I said, choking myself. “I’m so proud of you.” There was that word again, the one Grace used. It had a much stronger influence this time than it had at the restaurant, though.
She cried. Softly, sweetly, with joy and lovely laughter that had me crying, too. I waved and carried on, sad to go, at last, if only because I was leaving her alone. But she was a big girl, and she knew where to find me. And maybe my return to New York next time wouldn’t be so far in the future because I no longer had any reason to stay away.
I was settling into my first-class seat (double thank you, Vivian) when my phone buzzed. The link she shared was to a post on Blog Fashionella and I almost didn’t want to look. Naturally, that meant I clicked it right away.
Yelena David’s newest post, French Design Done Right, praised Vivian’s designs, ending with the suggestion Grace’s protégé was well chosen and had a bright future ahead. Vivian’s happy face emoji paired with a trio of hearts told me everything I needed to know.
Of course, she’d be fine. She was Vivian French. And I was going home.
One last text landed just as I was about to put my phone on airplane mode, a number and name I wasn’t expecting making me frown a little despite my elevated mood.
As did his message. Congratulations on another successful case, Ms. Fleming, Nelson Delamonte sent, the wealthy and powerful man who both Crew and I managed to impress clearly keeping tabs on me somehow. I look forward to seeing you again soon. Take care of that baby of yours and tell your husband I said hello.
How did he…? I sat back, a bit of a chill running up my spine, tucking my phone away. It was a nice message, after all. Not threatening or dark or dangerous in the least. So, why then did I suddenly feel like my husband and I had made some kind of deal with the devil?
Want more Fiona Fleming? Preorder book ten of the Fleming Investigation Cozy Mysteries, Medical Examinations and Death, RIGHT HERE! Coming June 28th!
And check out my other series, all available at https://pattilarsen.com/home for more cozy mystery fun!
Persephone Pringle Cozy Mysteries
Masquerade Inc. Cozy Mysteries
Finders Keepers Cozy Mysteries
Covenant of All Hallow Paranormal Cozies
Whitewitch Island Paranormal Cozies
Phoebe Monday Paranormal Cozies
Happy reading!
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