Love Notes, page 19
‘What did you do?’
‘I have no clue what you’re talking about.’
‘Norah,’ I growl.
She moans to herself. ‘It was for the greater good. She’s confused and needed a push, so I pushed.’
I suck in a breath, blowing it out slowly, so I don’t erupt at her. ‘You nearly pushed her right off a metaphorical cliff.’
‘Listen,’ she says, trying to save herself from my reaction. ‘All I’m going to say is that whatever cliff she’s standing at the edge of, she needs your help with it.’
‘I don’t know what that means…’
‘It means work and your personal life will soon collide. Be on the lookout.’
I pull into Ty’s driveway and turn off my truck, dropping my head against the steering wheel with a thud.
‘Hello?’
‘I’m not in the mood for your mind-reading riddles, Nor. You freaked her the hell out.’
‘I’m sorry, but it was only because I’m right. She is super complicated, Brooks.’
‘Exactly why I’m mad. I asked you to make a reservation, not show up to sabotage my date. What does Levi think of your extracurricular activities tonight?’
‘He doesn’t know all the details, and that’s how I prefer it stay.’
‘Your secret is safe with me if you stop inserting yourself into my dating life, Nor. I like this woman. Please don’t screw this up for me.’
‘I’m not screwing anything up. If anything, things will move smoothly now. She was looking for a sign; I gave her a sign. You’re welcome.’
‘You are so annoying at times.’ Without saying goodbye, I hang up the phone and make my way into Ty’s house.
‘Daddy!’ Alijah yells as I walk in.
‘Ali!’ I say with enthusiasm, dropping onto Ty and Emily’s couch.
Alijah crawls onto my lap, laying her head on my shoulder, her eyes partly glazed over with exhaustion as she stares at the Disney movie on Ty’s giant TV. Sophie’s asleep on the floor, Barbies and stuffed animals spread around their makeshift bed.
‘It’s only midnight,’ Em says from the couch. ‘I expected a text saying you’d be by tomorrow morning.’
‘She reject ya after you whipped it out?’ Ty asks. He’s sprawled across the other side of their sectional, watching Elsa dance across the screen.
‘Considering I like this woman, I whipped nothing out. Though my ex-wife did make an appearance.’
Ty mutes the television, his attention now entirely on me. ‘Did freaky-deeky Norah scare the shit out of her?’ he mumbles quietly, so Ali doesn’t hear.
‘That’s a possibility,’ I say. I run a hand over my head. I can’t believe she did this. ‘Can I tell you guys something weird?’
‘Weirder than bringing your ex-wife on your date tonight?’
‘I didn’t bring her; she invited herself. That’s not what I’m talking about, though. A while back, she called me with a dream she had. A dream where I d-i-e-d.’ I spell out the word because the last thing I want to do is worry Ali with a story about my possible pending death.
Ty lifts a single eyebrow. ‘Oh boy, here we go. If Dad were here right now, he’d already have the exorcism kit out. Want me to call him?’
I roll my eyes, jumping at the sound of the front door suddenly opening.
‘That was fast,’ I say. ‘Are you out fighting crime for Jesus now?’ I ask, glancing over at who I assume is my father bursting in right on cue.
‘Ha!’ Oz says, slamming the door behind him and waving a single finger Ty and my way. ‘Sneaking over in the middle of the night and hanging out without me? Jerks.’
Ali jumps awake at the sound of his bellowing accusing speech, glancing at Ozie with a frown. ‘Oz,’ she greets him with disappointment in her tone. I’ve never been prouder – half-asleep and still giving him a hard time. Exactly like I’ve taught her.
Oz grunts at Ali’s response as if she’s offended him.
Sometimes I forget these guys live on the same street we grew up on. Mom and Dad live at the end of the block. Oz inherited his dad’s house after his passing, and Tyler bought the house across the street. Every inch of this neighborhood brings me memories, good and bad.
Tyler shushes us, sitting up, now interested in what I was going to say. He pats the seat next to him, inviting Ozie to stay. ‘Norah predicted his d-e-a-t-h.’
Oz cocks his head, putting the letters together slowly. His eyes go wide when he gets it. ‘No,’ he says with a gasp, sitting beside Ty, ready to listen. ‘She hex ya? What’d you do? Was it the date thing tonight? ’Cause, dude, never tell your obsessed ex you’re going on a date. That’s weird, man.’
‘Why do I hang out with you two?’
Ty and Oz look at one another proudly. ‘’Cause we’re Oz-some,’ Ty says, bringing a wide grin to Oz’s face.
With a roll of my eyes, I continue. ‘Back to Norah’s dream, a woman appeared, apparently distraught over losing me.’
‘Unexpected twist right from the go,’ Oz says. ‘I’m intrigued – continue.’
‘Dark hair, emerald-green eyes, stiletto heels. Nor swears this woman is my soulmate.’
‘What’s a soulmate?’ Ali asks, her words slow and soft.
God, I thought she was asleep. ‘It’s, uh – the word for a make-believe person you really like,’ I say, my brain moving about as fast as hers.
‘Like Elsa?’
‘I’d soulmate the hell out of Elsa,’ Ty says with a laugh, earning a glare from Emily.
‘What’s that mean?’ Ali asks innocently.
‘It means Uncle Ty is an idiot,’ I say to her softly, rubbing her back to lull her back to sleep and away from our conversation. Once she settles like she’s falling asleep again, I continue our conversation. ‘Norah thinks Mercy is that woman.’
Both Ty and Oz’s faces sober.
‘I hate to be the bearer of bad news, brother, but most of the stupid shit that spews from her lips comes true. She told Emily she was pregnant a month before we knew. Are you sure you don’t want to hear her when she’s predicting your soulmate and d-e-a-t-h? Those two seem important.’
I glance at Alijah, asleep again and hopefully not listening to my brother’s mouth.
‘She predicted your pregnancy?’ I ask Emily, trusting her way more than Tyler.
‘We did fertility treatments to get Sophie,’ she reminds me. ‘No way did I suspect a surprise accidental pregnancy six years later. I’d made my peace with an only child.’
I’m rethinking everything Norah just said. Work and my love life are going to collide. She could be correct, but how? Suddenly it hits me. Fucking hell.
‘I gotta go,’ I say, lifting Ali off the couch and not waiting another second to see if I’m right.
Twenty minutes later, Alijah and I are home, and she’s asleep as I carry her from my truck to our apartment. I gently lay her in bed and tuck her in, leaving the door open so I can hear her. I shower, change and get into my bed, spotting the file I was working on recently still lying on my bedstand table where I’d left it. I grab it, looking through, flipping to the page I stopped at.
Nicholas Alexander – arrested in 2000 on murder charges. A drug deal went bad. An eight-year-old child was one of two witnesses.
Mercy’s last name is Alexander. She has a father in prison. Nick’s in prison. And according to him, he wants out on early parole to make amends. Is she who that’s with?
Holy fuck. My heart is racing in my chest as I grab my phone and dial Seiver’s number, realizing after it’s ringing that it’s nearly two in the morning.
‘This better be important,’ he says groggily.
‘Why do you refuse to deal with Nick Alexander?’
‘What?’ Seiver says, now sounding a hint more awake.
‘My new informant. Nicholas Alexander. What’s the deal? Why’d you give me his case if it was originally yours?’
‘Because he’s a piece of shit whose dirty deeds have stuck with me. I’ll never forget that sweet little girl’s face.’
Sweet little girl. No.
‘What was her name?’ I ask nervously.
‘You think I can remember when rudely woken from a dead sleep?’ he asks with a groan. ‘I dunno. It was something weird – it starts with an M. Macey? Mazie?’
‘Mercy?’
‘That’s it! Mercy Alexander. I found her crying in her closet, playing the ukulele, scared to death. Family services took forever, so she was picked up at McDonald’s, where I’d bought her a milkshake. She kept asking me why her daddy would do this. It was heartbreaking. Why in the hell are you calling me this late about this?’
My heart sinks through my chest, making me nauseous. How many Mercy Alexanders could there possibly be in Portland? I stand from my bed and walk across my room, glancing towards her building.
‘Hello?’ Seiver barks into the phone. ‘Hudson, if you hang up on me—’
I end the call, pulling up Mercy and my text thread. I can’t just ask or force her to talk. But there’s no way Nick Alexander isn’t her father. This is precisely what Norah was talking about. Damn it. This could blow up in my face. I can’t let that happen.
You up?
My eyes are glued to my phone while I wait to see the text bubble of her typing. Respond. Please, Mercy. After ten minutes of staring at the screen, I glance out my windows towards her building again. The third floor is completely dark. Fuck. I have to figure this out before she discovers I’m investigating her father.
23
MERCY
The sun shines through the blinds, hitting me in the face way earlier than I hoped to wake up.
‘Holy tequila shots,’ I groan, feeling those almost immediately. I pull the blanket over my head, but something falls, hitting me in the head. ‘Ow.’ My phone.
‘Want some coffee, sugar?’
I jump, shoving the blanket off, glancing towards Ed’s voice. ‘Why are you up at—’ I fumble with my phone, finally turning it on. ‘Nine… forty-two?’ I sit up. Rechecking my phone. ‘No.’
‘Something wrong?’
‘I have a gig in one hour.’ I jump out of bed, slipping on my heels from last night and grabbing my bag. ‘Can you drive me home?’
Ed’s eyes move over the T-shirt that belongs on his back and sweats that belong on Carlos, mixed with my black stilettos, and he bursts out laughing.
‘Yeah, I can’t have you walking home like that. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, honey.’ He grabs his keys from their designated key hook and leads the way to his car. He parks along the curb when we pull up to my apartment. ‘You better call me before you go to that prison. Understood?’
‘We’ll see, Dad.’ I get out of his car, shutting the door behind me but hearing the purr of the window winding down.
‘Mercy.’ He says my name sternly.
I turn, flashing him a smile that I’m hoping screams, don’t worry, I’ll live.
‘Thank you for the ride and the weird séance letter-reading girls’ night. I promise to call you if I come upon a part of life I can’t handle.’ I dodge into the building, running up the stairs, thankful for once in my life to see River exiting the apartment.
‘Don’t lock the door!’ I call, sliding into him, unable to stop in these shoes.
‘What in the hell are you wearing?’ he asks, catching me before I crash into him.
‘I’m late. I’m late. I’m late.’
‘For a very important date? Please tell me you don’t usually go into public like this?’
‘I stayed the night at Ed’s. My night was, uh – rough.’
‘Date didn’t go well?’ he asks with a smirk, following me towards my room as I kick off my shoes, nearly knocking a lamp over in the process.
‘Um – parts were amazing. Others – not so much.’ I stop at my door, turning towards River. ‘I’ll see ya later.’ I shut the door on him. Racing to my closet to get dressed, only to discover I’ve started my fucking period. As if today could go any worse.
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting in my car, my violin strapped into the passenger seat.
‘Come on!’ I yell, turning the key again but getting nothing. ‘Damn it!’ I pop the hood and get out, propping it up like I know what I’m looking for. Really I’m just hoping someone who knows cars will notice, stop and fix whatever is wrong, then send me on my way.
‘Excuse me, ma’am?’ A truck slows.
It worked. I mean, it may have been the fact that I was bent over my car in a skirt, but someone stopped.
‘Hi, do you know—’ When I turn and see who my knight in shining armor is, my jaw drops. ‘Anything about cars…?’ I finish my sentence, my heart beating at his crooked smile.
He parks a few spots up and across the street, walking to me with a grin. ‘I know a little,’ he says. ‘What’s going on?’ Brooks stops in front of me, looking me up and down. ‘Wow, so you just always look good?’ He kisses my cheek before looking at my car engine.
‘I’m late to play a soul into the afterlife, and my car won’t start.’
He touches a few things in my engine before letting my hood drop. ‘I can give you a lift.’
I don’t have time to think this through, so I say yes and hop into his truck with my violin in my lap. I check my phone and see three new text messages, all from Dylan. Shit. I bet he’s about to lose it because I haven’t checked in. He has a particular process of ensuring the business runs smoothly, and irritation follows when I don’t do my part.
I hit his contact. ‘I need to make a call really quick.’
‘Love Notes, this is Dylan.’
‘Dyl, my car wouldn’t start, but I am on my way to the Whitman funeral. Brooks is giving me a lift.’
‘Long night?’ he asks with a chuckle. ‘You realize you’re supposed to be there in fifteen minutes, right?’
‘Yep, he’s driving at the speed of light.’ I turn away from Brooks to ask about Dylan’s night. ‘Was your night not long, or did you drop her at home immediately after dinner?’
‘I’m not a kiss-and-tell kind of man.’
‘Yes, you are. But fine. I’ll wait until I get back to the shop to find out what happened.’
‘Go to your gig. You’re not getting details. Ever.’
After I hang up, Brooks glances my way.
‘I know a mechanic. I can arrange for him to pick up your car. He won’t rip you off.’
‘You’d do that?’
‘Absolutely. I’ll call him this afternoon. How’d the rest of your night go?’
‘Oh, um… well, I went home to find River inside with a woman. I can’t sleep through that, so I wandered the city for a while, the words of that tarot reader last night playing through my head repeatedly. Then I got caught in a thunderstorm while I walked to my brother’s. There we, or he, read a letter my incarcerated father sent me after twenty-two years of no contact.’
‘He wrote you a letter?’ he asks in disbelief.
‘Yep. He also shocked me with a collect call from prison. Somehow the guy found my address and number. How’s that possible?’ I look around his car, noticing the empty booster seat in the back. ‘I thought you had your daughter this week?’
‘She hangs out with Norah’s little brother when I have to work. I dropped her off with him about fifteen minutes ago. They’re going to the zoo.’
‘You’re working right now? Are you going to get in trouble for driving me to my gig?’
‘No, I’m off right now, but I’m the lead on a growing case, so I’m on call until I start swing shift tomorrow. I was going home to sleep today, but you needing help seemed more important.’
‘I’m keeping you from sleeping?’
‘I can sleep anytime. I can’t often woo a woman as beautiful as you.’ He reaches over and touches my hand. ‘Truth be told, I was hoping to run into you.’
My entire body settles with his touch. It could also be that the meds I took when I first realized how late I was earlier are kicking in too. Either way, I’m calm, and something about his presence is helping.
‘I didn’t expect you to distract me by being bent over the front of your car, but here we are.’
‘Is that a complaint?’
‘Not even a little bit,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘I’m excited to see you play again. Does the song match the life lived?’
‘What, like “Stairway to Heaven” or “Highway to Hell”? That would be perfect. But no. The most popular choice is “Ave Maria”. I could play it on both piano and violin in my sleep.’
‘How long have you been playing?’
‘I was five when I started.’
‘Five? The prodigy thing is true, then?’
‘No,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘You’re bound to get better when you play six to eight hours a day to escape the outside and inside of your head. I seriously practiced every spare moment I had. When I was a teenager, I got my first electric violin and would go to the Saturday market and busk. Those were my first gigs outside the school band. I felt like a rock star, and the tips were awesome.’
‘My first gig was the high school talent show my sophomore year.’
‘Really?’ I ask with a grin. ‘Did you win?’
‘Did I win? You’ve seen me play,’ he says with a wink. ‘I’m kidding. Yes, we did win that year and every year after. My parents were horrified as they watched. I think they hoped we might play a hymn of some sort.’
‘What did you play?’
‘Uh, Rage Against the Machine.’ He glances at me guiltily, yet he’s obviously proud.
I burst out laughing. ‘So, the opposite of a hymn. Please tell me it wasn’t—’
‘“Killing In the Name”?’ He shakes his head. ‘Almost. Then we realized how long Ty and I would be grounded, so instead, we dialed it back and went with “Renegades of Funk”. Mostly because “funk” sounds like “fuck”. Teenage boys, you know? We pushed those rules hard. And my parents reciprocated with long stints in solitary.’
‘Solitary?’
‘That’s what we called groundings. If chores were the punishment, it was child labor. We were hellions.’
