Sweet Like a Psycho Read online

  I laughed. “Did he play anything in high school?”

  She shook her head and turned away from me to clean the mugs. “No, he was in plays and stuff. He wasn’t that interested in sports.”

  “Oh, right. But you said you were and that you weren’t allowed to participate?”

  “I doubt I would have made any teams. I was fast but not that fast. And I’m coordinated, but not that coordinated.” She opened up the fridge and started pulling stuff out.

  “And what are your interests now?”

  She finally looked back up at me. “In sports?”

  “No…I mean like what are you passionate about now?”

  “Being a mom.”

  Her response made me smile, but it still wasn’t what I was looking for. “Do you work?”

  She arched a brow at me. “Being a mother is work.”

  “I know. It’s the hardest job of all and also the most important.” I did know that. My mother worked her ass off to give me the best of everything that she could. “But do you have another job? To make ends meet?” There were so many things about her that didn’t make sense. She dropped three hundred dollars on a coat but drove around a beat-up truck. She made homemade tomato sauce out of organic products, based on the labels and items she was moving to the counter, but she lived in a house that was practically falling down around her. Nothing she did made any sense.

  “I don’t have to work,” she said as she grabbed a recipe book from a shelf and started to flip through the pages.

  “Why is that?”

  “I invest and stuff.” She pulled her hair into a messy bun and started rinsing vegetables.

  “Invest what?” Most people invested money that they set aside from their day jobs.

  “My inheritance.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” That made sense. She had lost her father, mother, and stepfather. “That was rude of me to ask.”

  “It’s fine. It’s no secret that I don’t work. Can you imagine me going to work every day? I’d lose my mind,” she said with a laugh.

  “I’m sure you’d be able to handle it.” I started to cut up the vegetables she handed me. “So were your parents wealthy?” I immediately regretted the question. Why was I pushing this? She had just told me everything I needed to know. Not that I was worried that she was running around town pulling bank jobs. But I had been curious about where all her cash was coming from. Before today, I thought maybe she needed a little bit of financial help. I had found myself wanting to be that help. Now that she didn’t need it, I was curious about how much she didn’t need it. Was she just rolling around in cash?

  “No, not particularly. But I got a big fat life insurance check from my mother's death. Apparently she’d had a pretty substantial policy ever since she got married to my dad. He was worried about her mental health. He probably thought she might try to off herself at some point. Honestly, I was worried about that too when I was little. I’d been terrified of being left alone with my stepfather. The money was the one good thing my mother ever did for me. All I have to do is invest it properly and I’ll be good.”

  She didn’t need a man to take care of her, but I already knew that. I just wanted to be a part of her life. My ego was a little bruised though. The salary from my job was probably chump change to her. I was more focused on the fact that she said her mother was suicidal though. Maybe the peculiar cause of death had nothing to do with Violet at all. Of course it doesn’t. I was 99 percent sure she wasn’t involved in her stepfather’s and mother’s deaths.

  “What are you doing?” she asked me. “You didn’t even peel the onion.”

  I looked down at the cutting board. I hadn’t been paying attention, not that I particularly knew what I was doing.

  She laughed and pulled the knife out of my hand. “Here, I’ll let you cut up the bread instead.” She handed me a loaf of fresh Italian bread. “Maybe like half inch slices. Think you can handle that?”

  “That’s probably more my speed.” I took the knife bread and watched in awe as she sped through chopping the vegetables. She was full of surprises.

  Chapter 21

  Violet

  “Sure you don’t want a glass?” Damien asked for what felt like the tenth time.

  I had never been one to succumb to peer pressure. But my stomach had been in knots ever since he arrived. For some reason, I found myself wanting him to like me. He was friends with Tucker, and if Tucker and I ever became something then Damien would be a part of my life too. Thinking about it made my stomach hurt even more. What was I doing? I couldn’t date a detective and be friends with another. That was asking for trouble. But going on the way I had wasn’t an option either. I needed to open up to someone or I’d drown in my own secrets.

  My afternoon with Tucker had been really nice. He was respectful, even though he was a little nosy about my past. He was trying to get to know me and I kept adding to my pile of lies. I heard Zeke’s laughter filtering in through the other room. Tucker had told me he was going to try again to convince Zeke that the new lizard was Lizardopolous. Lying clearly wasn’t working. Which just reinforced the fact that I didn’t have a choice here. Tucker wanted to talk one on one tonight. I could just tell him a tiny bit and see his reaction. I’d confess one secret and see how he took it. That was harmless enough.

  I looked back at Damien. “You know what? I’d love a glass.”

  He gave me the one he’d poured for himself and then went to the cabinet he’d seen me pull the glasses out from originally. He was certainly making himself at home already.

  I took a sip. I hadn’t had a drink since the last party I had been to in high school. The wine was bitter, but it was certainly better than cheap, stale beer. Maybe it would help with my compulsions. I didn’t want Damien’s negative opinion of me to be reinforced tonight. I wanted to fix it. And clenching my hand in a fist all night to prevent myself from tapping anything wasn’t going to cut it. The nerves made me worse. If I remembered anything about drinking, it was that it made me feel less nervous.

  “This is a lot nicer than I thought it was going to be,” Damien said and looked around the kitchen.

  I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, so I didn’t say anything at all, I just took another sip of my drink.

  “When I was little I used to throw rocks at the windows with my friends. We’d all run away, scared that ghosts would come out and chase us.”

  I laughed. “I did too. I was always kind of fascinated by the place.” It was weird that we had something in common.

  “I was always creeped out by it.”

  Well, maybe not that much in common.

  “Is it true that you just rent it or something?” he asked.

  The or something made me know what he was really asking. I’d heard the rumors that I lived in this abandoned house without a real claim to it. Just a psycho living out in the woods.

  “It was the property of the state. I bought it outright.” This was one thing I didn’t need to lie about. The place had been abandoned for years and I got it for barely anything. I was pretty sure the state would have given it to me for free if they could have.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize that.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged my shoulders. “People like to assume things instead of asking me. They’d rather not talk to me at all.”

  He rested his elbows on the kitchen island and leaned a little closer to me. “I’m sorry, Violet. I’ve been one of those people.”

  “I don’t blame you. Sometimes it’s easier to be part of the masses.”

  “Ouch.” He put his hand over his heart. “I guess I deserved that one.”

  He did. But pointing it out wasn’t a very nice thing to do as a host. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I really appreciate you fixing my truck. Really, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “It’s more of a patch. You’ll probably need a new car within a year at the most.”

  I couldn’t get rid of my truck. That wasn’t an option. “Are you sur
e?”

  “I’m sure you could spend a bunch of money on Band-Aids, but it would be a better investment to get a new one. Which I realize sounds insane because a car is a really shitty investment. But it’s better than pouring money down the drain.”

  I shook my head. I’d pour any amount of money down the drain to keep it. A rundown truck in the driveway would be suspicious. But as my main method of transportation it just fit in with everyone's opinion of me being a crazy woman in the woods.

  “If you need someone to come to the dealer with you, I’m pretty good at negotiating.” He gave me a charming smile.

  It was the second time today that it felt like he was hitting on me. The way he looked at me made my whole body feel cold. “No, I think I’m good with my truck. Thanks for offering though.”

  He shrugged. “Well, if you ever need me to take another look I can. Speaking of which, I think you had an ice pack with my name on it.” He rubbed the back of his head.

  God, I was such an ass. He wasn’t hitting on me, he was probably just concussed. “I’m really sorry about that. I shouldn’t have surprised you while you were under the hood.” I grabbed the ice pack from the freezer and held it out to him.

  “Do you see a bump or anything?” he asked instead of taking it.

  I walked up behind him and ran my fingers through his hair at the base of his skull. “It does look a little purple.” I pressed the ice against his skin.

  “Ah, that feels so much better.” He lifted his hand and put it on top of mine.

  “You’re not dizzy or anything are you?” I probably shouldn’t have let him drive around this afternoon without asking him that first.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Nauseous or anything?”

  “No.” He smiled. “Just hungry.”

  I sighed. “Okay, good.”

  “Is dinner almost ready, Mommy?” Zeke asked as he ran into the kitchen.

  “In a few minutes. Want to help set the table?”

  He didn’t reply, he just pulled one of the stools over to the counter so that he could climb up and reach the plates.

  Tucker joined us in the room and the air suddenly felt stifling. He was staring at my hand underneath of Damien’s with a look full of protectiveness. I loved that look. I immediately removed my hand. “I was making sure he wasn’t concussed,” I said.

  Tucker shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Concussed. Really?” He was staring at Damien.

  “What?” Damien shrugged. “I could have been. At least someone cares enough to ask.” He kept the ice pack on the back of his head.

  “Are you convinced we found Lizardopolous now?” I asked and flicked one of Zeke’s dreadlocks out of his face as he set the table.

  “No, I’m convinced that Tucker isn’t as good of a detective as he thinks he is.”

  I laughed. “You’re right about that.” As soon as the words fell out of my mouth, I regretted them. Everyone was quiet for a second. I had been referring to the fact that Tucker had been the one to insist that the new lizard looked like Lizardopolous, but I couldn’t exactly explain that in front of Zeke. What I said made it seem like I was guilty, and Tucker wasn’t smart enough to catch me. The silence was killing me.

  “He is a pretty shitty detective,” Damien said with a laugh. “He’s almost been fired a few times.”

  “What’s shitty mean?” Zeke asked.

  God help me. “There’s no cursing in this house,” I said. “Don’t you repeat that, Zeke, it’s a bad word that grown-ups use when they’re being inappropriate.”

  “Oh, like dicks?”

  I blinked once. Twice. Three times. “What did you just say?”

  “Dicks. It means penises. No one’s supposed to say it but I guess people do when they’re naughty.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. His explanation was kind of adorable. People say it when they’re naughty? Probably true. “Don’t say that either, little dude. Pinky promise me.” I held out my hand to him.

  “But Mom. Why do they get to say shitty dicks and I can’t?”

  “They’re not allowed to say it either. They’re going to promise me too. Right, Tucker? Damien?”

  “Sorry, Violet,” Tucker said and then he elbowed Damien when Damien didn’t reply.

  “Yeah, sure, cross my heart or whatever,” Damien said.

  “See. They’re not saying the bad words either.”

  Finally Zeke wrapped his pinky around mine. “Fine,” he said. He made it seem like it was a huge sacrifice when he had clearly only just learned the words today.

  “So…” Damien said in a lame attempt to change the subject. “What kind of flooring is this?”

  That was the weirdest segue ever. I looked down at the kitchen floor. I’d opted to refinish the wood in the house instead of replacing most of it. But I had no idea what kind of wood it was. It was re-stained a dark color that didn’t look anything like the originals. “I’m not sure. It’s the original flooring of the house but it’s refinished.”

  “Oh. It’s nice.”

  “Thanks. I feel like I was on my knees for weeks trying to figure out how to do it.”

  Damien smiled and I had no idea why. But I didn’t have time to ask him, because the timer started beeping. I was relieved it was time to eat. The sooner dinner was over the sooner Damien would be gone and Zeke would go to bed. I needed that alone time with Tucker. I needed to tell him I didn’t think he was a bad detective. He was a good one. His first instinct not to trust me had been right. I was guilty, just not of what he had originally thought.

  “Is everything refinished, or did you have to tear any of it up and replace it?” Damien asked.

  I liked talking about home remodeling. This was going to be an easier dinner than I anticipated. “I didn’t have to tear anything up. The house was in much better condition than I ever could have hoped.”

  “How 'bout that.” He kept looking at the floor like he didn’t believe me.

  I must have done a really good job with them.

  But when I caught Tucker elbowing him again out of the corner of my eye, the compliment went out the window. Why was he really asking about my floors? I took another sip of wine before starting to serve the ziti.

  Damien and Tucker had saved the seat between them for me, which made me uncomfortable because I could feel them both staring at me. Although the way Damien was staring at me was different. It felt like he was looking for answers instead of looking at me.

  There were only three stools so Zeke sat cross-legged on the counter. I knew it was ridiculous, but luckily no one commented on it. And Zeke looked like he was having the time of his life. He had a million questions for Damien and Tucker. Everything about cases and random detective work in general. At this rate, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he wanted to be a detective one day. Which would be ironic. Because then it would be his job to catch people like me.

  I let Damien refill my glass of wine once it was empty.

  “I actually have another bottle in the car. I grabbed two just in case. I’ll be right back.” He excused himself from the table.

  “You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to,” Tucker said when he heard the front door close.

  “It’s actually really good.” Honestly, the more I had of it the more I liked it. I didn’t believe in taking medicine for my issues. But this seemed like an easy fix when I was in a pinch.

  “Can I have some?” Zeke asked.

  “Nope.” I reached across the counter and squeezed his knee. “It’s a grown-up thing.”

  “Awww, but, Mom. Everything’s a grown-up thing.”

  I laughed. “Not true, little dude. None of us get to eat while sitting on the counter like you.”

  “That’s true. Are there any more cookies?”

  “Eat more ziti instead.”

  “Fine.” He grabbed the serving spoon and plopped more onto his plate.

  “I’m sorry about all of Damien’s questions,�
� said Tucker.

  I really hadn’t thought anything about them until I saw how upset they had made Tucker. “I did spend a lot of time on the floors. It was nice to have someone notice. It seems like you thought it was an inappropriate question, though. Why?”

  “Because of how people think there’s bunches of bodies under our floors,” Zeke said with a mouthful of food.

  God. I was more horrified that Zeke had heard the rumor than I was that Damien was trying to trick me into confessing to something that wasn’t true. I was embarrassed that my son had pieced the questions together and I was too blind to see it. Or too…drunk? I don’t know. I pushed the glass aside. “Zeke, who did you hear that from?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t remember. A lot at school. It’s not true, Tucker,” he added. “I’d know if our house was haunted, I live here.”

  “I know,” Tucker said.

  “Zeke, what else have you heard?” I was horrified. I knew the kids teased him, but he’d never said they were spreading rumors about me too. About our house. No wonder he couldn’t catch a break.

  “I don’t know.”

  Whenever he said that it meant he just didn’t want to talk about it. He’d probably heard everything. Of course he had. The people in this town were horrible. “Okay, little dude.” I squeezed his knee. I’d ask him about it later when we were alone. “But you know not to listen to rumors, right?”

  “Yup.” He took another huge bite of ziti. “Rumors are for shitty dicks.”

  “Zeke!”

  He giggled.

  Tucker started to laugh too.

  I couldn’t help but join them.

  “I feel like you were making fun of me while I was gone,” Damien said as he walked back into the room.

  “Only a little,” Tucker said. He winked at me as he placed his arm on the back of my chair.

  I liked when he did that. It made me feel safe in the most comfortable way. I was thankful that he wasn’t trying to put his arm around my shoulders or hold my hand again. That had been nice at the mall, but I didn’t feel comfortable with him doing that in front of Zeke. It would lead to all sorts of questions, and I didn’t have the answers. I didn’t know what we were. It would all depend on how tonight went. Suddenly I was nervous for our conversation. What if he ran away too?