Oh boy. The only thing I dreaded more than Mom's interrogation about how I'd spent my Sunday was enduring David in my house. With my mother.
"Is that your mom?" Sam surmised as Chase revved his engine and pulled out of the parking lot.
I nodded, shooting back a quick, on my way. "Can you drop me off at home?" I asked Chase.
"Sure," he agreed. He glanced over at my phone. "Everything okay?"
"Sorta." I shot him a look. "Raley's coming over for dinner."
"Your mom and the detective are getting kinda serious, huh?" Chase asked.
I scoffed and shook my head. "No. No way. I'm sure it's just a temporary thing."
One could hope.
"I don't know," Sam said. "Last time I slept over I caught them on the sofa—"
"Stop!" I commanded, putting my fingers in my ears. "I do not want to know what they do on my sofa."
Sam chuckled. "Let's just say they were canoodling."
I wasn't exactly certain what a canoodle entailed, but I was pretty sure I could never sit there again.
"Sorry," Sam offered. "Do you need me to come over for moral support?" She put a hand on my shoulder from the back seat.
I swiveled around as far as my boa constrictor seat belt would allow. "Would you?" I asked.
She nodded vigorously. "If it means avoiding the mood my parents are going to be in because Kevin has refused to move out once again? Heck yeah."
* * *
Once I'd cleared it with Mom for Sam to sleep over, and Sam had cleared it with her parents, Chase dropped us both in front of my house with a promise to meet us at the con when it re-opened in the morning.
Even with Chase's Speed Racer driving, it appeared that Raley had beaten us to my house. His beige sedan sat at the curb in front of my mom's azalea bushes.
I took a deep fortifying breath before leading the way up the front path to my door. I fished in my pocket for my key and twisted it in the lock, the scents of garlic and basil hitting my nostrils as soon as I pushed inside.
"Hello?" I called out. Mostly so I didn't accidentally walk in on Mom and her date doing anything disgusting enough that I'd need brain bleach.
Mom's head popped into the kitchen doorway as Sam and I shut the front door behind us. "Hartley! There you are. Didn't you say you were leaving the library ages ago?"
"Uh…did I?" She had a point. While Peak Games' offices were in Sunnyvale, the library was like five minutes away.
"I was starting to get worried." Mom put her hands on her slim hips. Encased not, I noticed, in her usual yoga pants but a little black dress that hit just a couple inches higher on her thigh than was decent for a woman of her age.
"We, uh, had to call Sam's parents to make sure it was okay for her to sleep over," I said quickly. Which had been true. I figured the fact that we'd done it en route from Phoebe Lyon's office was a detail she didn't need.
"Oh. Well, hi, Sam," Mom said, waving a hand covered in a red potholder at her. "Come on in. Lasagna's just about ready."
"It smells great, Mrs. Featherstone," Sam said, following me into the kitchen.
"Don't get too excited," I whispered to her. "This is my mom's cooking, remember."
As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, any appetite I might have had vanished at the unsettling scene before me. Raley stood near the stove, stirring a pot of sauce. He had a glass of wine in one hand, a dopey smile on his face, and he looked way too comfortable and at home in my kitchen. He turned as he heard us approach. "Hey, Hartley."
"Hey," I shot back. Maybe in a tone that was a little more defensive than friendly.
Mom gave me a look.
What? I mouthed back.
"Uh, David was nice enough to bring a chocolate cake for dessert," Mom said.
David. I refused to be on a first name basis with Detective Raley.
"Do you like cake, Sam?" Mom asked, her voice more chipper than the occasion warranted.
"Love it," Sam said, leaning in to see what was bubbling on the stove. "What's that green stuff?"
"Zoodles," Mom said.
Sam gave me a blank look.
"Zucchini noodles," I explained. I shrugged. "Told you so."
"They're higher in fiber than grain noodles and gluten free," Mom said. "Plus they complement the vegan ricotta."
"Vegan ricotta?" Sam gave me a wary look this time.
"Tofu," I translated.
Suddenly Sam looked as green as the zoodles.
Raley chuckled. "Don't worry. At least we have real cake to wash it down."
"Vegetables are real food," Mom said, giving him a playful swat on the arm, accompanied by a giggle. An actual giggle. Like a middle schooler.
"Well, I love cake," Sam said, clearly looking on the bright side.
"Hartley too. Chocolate is her favorite, David," Mom said.
"Actually, it's red velvet," I shot back.
Mom gave me that look again.
What? I mouthed again.
Be nice! she mouthed back as Raley turned his attention to the stove. Her eyebrows drew down into a firm line that said I was pushing it.
I resisted an eye roll. Mostly because my mom's date carried a gun. And the way she was looking at me, she might not be above using it.
"Sam, I heard you dressed up for the convention yesterday," Mom said, turning her perky voice on Sam to keep the chitchat light.
"Yeah. Link. It was old-school, but it was kind of last minute. I'm thinking maybe I can go a little edgier tomorrow though and try something more modern."
"Tomorrow?" Mom frowned. "You girls aren't thinking of going back, are you?"
"Well, yeah." I looked from Mom to Sam. "I mean, our tickets are good all weekend."
"No." Mom shook her head from side to side. "Hartley, someone was killed there!"
"Mom, it was hardly a random crime," I whined.
"You don't know that."
"The police do." I shot a meaningful look toward Raley. Who, by the way, had become inordinately interested in the sauce during our exchange.
He slowly turned around. "Hmm?"
"Tell my mom that there is not some random killer running around the convention center," I demanded.
"Hartley, that is no way to speak to a guest," Mom warned.
I took a deep breath. I counted to five. I was about to tell Mom what I thought of our "guest" when he piped up, beating me to it.
"Actually, I think Hartley is right."
He did?
"You do?" Mom asked.
Raley nodded slowly, eyes going from me to Sam. "We've secured the immediate crime scene and the convention is cleared to resume tomorrow. There are extra security measures in place, and I honestly don't think we're looking at a random crime."
"See?" I couldn't help saying.
The look came back.
I shut my mouth again. Better to quit while I was ahead.
"If this wasn't a random crime," Sam, who had been listening to all of this, said, "who do you think did it?"
But Raley shook his head. "I can't share information about suspects in an ongoing investigation." He turned to Mom. "But I do think the girls will be perfectly safe at the convention tomorrow."