An hour later I sat on a red-velvet sofa shaped like a peanut and tried to forget it was a mere nineteen degrees outside as I scooped a spoonful of chocolate gelato into my mouth.
Maddie took a bite of wildberry and pointed her plastic spoon at me. “What’s your deal?”
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. Don’t make me pry it out of you.”
“All I wanted was to clear my mind and to spend the day without any thoughts about Charlotte or Parker or the case, but the harder I try not to think about it, the more I do.”
“Why think of Parker at all? He’s dead, and I don’t see too many people around who are unhappy about it.”
Maddie finished the last bite of her gelato and set her bowl on the table. The bowl was made of yellow plastic and reminded me of the set of colorful pastel Tupperware bowls my mother used in the eighties. The remnants of Maddie’s melted gelato dripped onto the table. She didn’t notice. I let it go for a few seconds and then, when I couldn’t sit still and watch it drip any longer, I snatched a napkin from the dispenser and wiped it up.
“I remembered something,” I said.
Maddie sat straight up in her chair. “Do tell.”
“Parker was left-handed.”
Her eyes widened. “Fascinating.”
“Okay, smart ass,” I said.
“What made you think about Parker being a leftie?”
“The first time I met him in the lobby downtown, he handed me a flower with his left hand. And then later in his apartment, he held a glass in his left hand. When he pinned me up against the wall––”
“I get it, left hand.”
“I broke the fingers on his left hand,” I said.
“So what does that mean?”
“The evidence said Parker shot himself with his right hand.”
She slanted her head to the side. “Who knows…maybe he’s ambidextrous.”
“And maybe I’m the Princess of Wales,” I said.
“What did the coroner’s report say?”
“Nick said the ME’s results were conclusive: Parker shot himself. They found no other prints on the gun, and there’s no way I can get access to the report. The chief has me on some type of time-out while Parker’s daddy is in town.”
Maddie rolled her eyes.
“He’s not such a bad guy, Maddie. He’s just doing what he needs to do. Besides, I don’t know what made him madder: breaking into Parker’s house, my prints all over the crime scene, or discovering Parker’s body before they did.”
Maddie walked over to the drinking fountain, slurped some water, and plopped back down next to me.
“Who’s the coroner?”
“Whitley,” I said.
“Stan Whitley?”
“Know him?”
She bobbed her head up and down a couple times, grinning. “Do I ever.”
“Now it’s your turn to spill,” I said.
“He’s got the hots for me.”
“Who doesn’t?” I said.
“Don’t I know it.”
“Oh, give me a break,” she said. “You can have any guy you want.”
“And I do,” I said.
“The having isn’t the problem though, is it? It’s the holding.”
“It makes me feel––”
“Trapped.”
“Something like that,” I said.
“You’re just scared.”
“And you aren’t?”
“Hell no. I’m not the marrying kind. I don’t need a man to tie me down so I can sit at home popping out babies every other year for the next ten years of my life.”
“I don’t think it works like that,” I said.
“Oh no? What about Ben?”
I’d almost forgotten about Ben whose fondest wish was for the two of them to wed. And Maddie almost agreed until he told her about his plan for her to stay at home and make a tribe of little Ben’s. He made it clear he wanted no less than six of them. Maddie, on the other hand, wanted a career, which for Ben, was a deal breaker.
“I ran into him a few months ago. He was with his pregnant wife and four or five other bundles of joy. The kids were running all over the place like the kids in Children of the Corn.”
“How long has he been married?” I said.
“About five years now, I guess.”
Maddie swore off kids in college. After she helped her single mother raise seven younger brothers and sisters, she had no intentions of being responsible for anybody but herself ever again.
“Nick wants to move forward,” I said. “He wants to make it official. He wants us to move in together.”
“You can’t blame him, sweetie.”
“Right now our life together is simple and uncomplicated. I have my space, and he has his. It’s perfect.”
“For you, obviously not for him. What are you on, your second year together?”
I nodded.
“We just hit the two-year mark.”
“No wonder he wants to settle. If you two were both in your twenties, it would be different.”
“I thought you of all people would understand,” I said.
“Just because I don’t plan to walk down the aisle doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”
“What if he moves in and it isn’t what he thought?” I said. “Then what?”
“You could get trampled by a herd of buffalo in some field tomorrow and end up dead anyway.”
“Nice,” I said.
“My point is you don’t know what’s going to happen in life. How do you know moving in together won’t make life even sweeter than it is now?”
She hugged me, and whispered, “You get one shot at life, don’t waste it.”
The door to the ice cream parlor swung open, and a group of teenagers strolled in. They laughed and talked to one another at such a high decibel I thought I’d rupture an eardrum. Maddie looked at me and we both reached for our coats.
“Thanks for the gelato,” I said.
“Anytime.”
Maddie pushed the front door open and we walked out.
“Headed back to your office?” I said.
She shook her head.
“I’m off to play catch up with my old friend Whitley.”