A Novel Way to Die - By Ali Brandon Page 0,56

calling her, and she never answered her phone. I finally closed the shop early because I thought maybe she was home sick in bed, but she wasn’t there, either.”

The woman paused and took a shuddering breath. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I phoned a few of her friends. No one saw her at school yesterday morning. And then that detective—I don’t remember his name—came by my house looking for her last night. He said that when she showed up again, he needed to talk to her right away.”

“I’m sure it’s just routine,” Darla assured her, but Hilda shook her head.

“You don’t understand. The questions he asked me about her, I could not believe. Does she have a passport . . . does she have any friends with criminal records? Finally, I got angry and told him to leave.”

Probably not the best move, going Mama Grizzly on a cop, Darla thought wryly, though she could understand a parent wanting to protect her child. Aloud, she asked, “So is that why you’re looking for Jake, to see if she can find Tera before the police do?”

“That’s all I could think to do. Tera has no one in this city besides me. The rest of the family, they’re back in Miami or in Cuba. I’ve always taken care of her. She knows nothing of life, of what it takes to survive on her own.”

Hilda paused and gave a swipe at her eyes, which were damp again.

“Me, I was only seventeen when I escaped from Cuba with my husband and his entire family on a little fishing boat meant for just six people. It was the hurricane season, but we didn’t know a storm was forming in the Atlantic when we set out. With the wind and the waves, it was a miracle that we stayed afloat long enough to reach Miami.”

“Hilda, I didn’t know. That must have been a terrifying journey.”

“I suppose it was, but I had grown up being frightened and hungry. To me, it was just one more thing to endure. But after that, I was never frightened of anything else again . . . not until now.” She paused, and her regal features abruptly crumpled. “Dios mío, I am so afraid! I’m afraid that the police think my daughter killed Curt Benedetto!”

“Who wants lunch? Get it while it’s hot!”

Darla had been so caught up in Hilda’s account that she hadn’t heard the bells on the shop door jingle. Robert had returned from the deli and was making his way toward the counter triumphantly waving a large and slightly greasy paper bag. Darla released Hilda’s hand and hurried to intercept him.

“Why don’t you put mine in the fridge upstairs in the lounge?” she suggested, giving her head a meaningful shake as he peered curiously past her. “I’ve got a customer I’m helping right now.”

Hilda began to sob, and the teen’s inquisitive expression promptly morphed into the distressed look common to males who can’t bear to see the opposite gender cry.

“Yeah, sure,” he verbally backpedaled. “Do you want me to, uh, take my break now, or wait?”

“Go ahead. I’ve got things under control here.”

Which wasn’t exactly the truth. For the moment, she had no idea what to say to a mother whose only child had just become a suspect in a murder investigation. And she couldn’t just leave the woman there crying, especially since her usual lunchtime customers would be popping in any minute now.

Darla hurried back around the counter, grabbed the box of tissues from the shelf below, and then thrust it into Hilda’s arms.

“Let’s find you a quiet spot,” she said, deftly steering the woman toward the shop’s rear room. As in the main part of the store, a few small tufted chairs were tucked in strategic corners so customers could sit and peruse potential purchases. Darla settled the woman alongside the New Age shelves. Maybe she’d gain a bit of serenity by osmosis.

“Here you go,” she said and plumped a tapestry pillow, which she then slipped behind Hilda’s back. “You can wait right there until Jake comes back. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to bring you something?”

Hilda sniffled a moment into her tissue and then shook her head. “I’m so sorry, causing such a scene in your nice store. But I know my daughter. She’s not capable of doing such a horrible thing. How could that detective suspect her of murder?”

“Reese has to check her out, just like he’s doing with everyone else who

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