taking a seat at the island.
“If you want a drink, grab it yourself,” I tell him, and he gets back up to dive into the fridge, coming up with a Diet Coke. “No beer?”
“I’ve gotta go back in this afternoon. Better stick to this.” He sits back down. “We just took Esme to her checkup. She’s perfect.”
“Of course she is,” I agree. I can’t help it, I adore that little human, despite the huge pain in my ass her parents can be.
“I actually wanted to stop by to give you guys an update. The DA dropped all the charges against Parsons and he was released last night.”
“I know,” Annie says, handing me the next sandwich to drop in the pan. “I talked to him.”
“You talked to him? You didn’t tell me that.” My tone is a little sharper than I intended, but the thought of her alone with that guy doesn’t sit well with me.
She turns her face to me, one eyebrow arched up. “Not like I’ve exactly had a chance,” she snips back. “I saw him just as I was leaving Edward and Hattie and went to apologize.” She rolls her eyes dramatically when I growl. “In full view of both Edward and Hattie the entire time—calm your tits.”
Tony bursts out laughing and Blue calls from the couch.
“What’s funny?”
“Annie just told Sumo to calm his tits,” he happily volunteers.
“Awww,” my partner mocks. “Just like a real couple.”
I’m annoyed with the two until I hear Bryce snicker as well. I nudge Annie with my elbow.
“Next time, leave them outside. If they wanna come and harass me, they’ll have to call for a damn appointment.”
“So noted,” she mumbles back, but she’s grinning too.
“Keep an eye on these,” I point at the two pans I have going. “I’ll grab us some drinks.”
I get orders from everyone but Tony, and we collectively agree to eat in the living room so Bryce doesn’t have to move. The dogs are put outside. Esme who apparently has taken a shine to both Bryce and his controller—which she’s currently trying to stuff in her mouth—is put back in her car seat, and the rest of us dive into the stack of grilled cheese sandwiches I set in the middle of the coffee table.
Tony is finished first and continues his update.
“Ted Murphy was officially charged this morning after we got a report from the LAPD. Murphy worked for Stars Catering in Long Beach for four years before he handed in his notice almost a year ago.”
“They catered the show for years,” Annie volunteers, and I watch with some satisfaction as she plucks another sandwich off the plate.
“We also searched his apartment. It’s not too far from the trailer park, over the flower shop on East 39th.”
“Within walking distance,” I point out.
“Sorry, Annie, but it was pretty clear the man was obsessed with you. I won’t go into detail—”
“Please don’t,” she tells him.
“Right. Anyway, all the evidence from the apartment and the Walmart parking lot, along with your testimony, is more than enough to make sure he stays locked up. Then of course there’s the death of David Finch in LA which had been ruled an accident, but the LAPD now wants to have another look at.”
“He didn’t tell me in so many words, but he implied he was responsible for that.”
“Let’s hope there’s enough evidence left to corroborate that, but regardless, he’s got a shitload of charges against him here that’ll earn him a good many years behind bars.”
A few minutes later Tony and Blue get up to leave, Esme protesting loudly when Blue plucks the controller from her hands and gives it back to Bryce.
“One thing I meant to ask,” Annie addresses Tony. “Did he tell you why he stopped in at Walmart? He said it was a surprise, and it’s been bugging me.”
Tony glances over at me, a warning in his eyes, before he answers.
“He dropped a bag containing, among other things, a length of chain and padlocks.”
“That son of a bitch,” I grind out when I feel Annie stepping up beside me, slipping her arm around my waist.
“Among other things?” she asks, leaning close.
“Yeah, he also had some medical supplies, a lab coat, and a…uh… white lace lingerie.”
You don’t need a lot of imagination to put those pieces together and I’m trying to hold on to my cool for my son’s sake, but at fourteen he’s already much too smart.
“Ewww,” he blurts out, a grimace on his face. “That’s gross.”
30
Annie
Three weeks later.
“Hey, Annie.”
Mel’s assistant—and as