Born to Die - Lisa Jackson [52]
Where had the time gone? Her heart twisted a little as she saw Jeremy help Bianca into the cab, slam the door, then trot around the front of his truck to climb behind the wheel.
Within seconds the pickup rumbled to life, a steady throb of bass reverberating from inside the cab as Jeremy pulled away. She stood for a while, watching the truck rumble through the trees guarding the lane, then slammed the front door shut.
“What do you think of that?” she asked, setting Cisco on the floor. “Alone at last, just you and me. Think of all the trouble we can get into.”
As if he understood, the little dog went crazy at her feet, wiggling and prancing toward the cupboard where she kept his leash and a few doggy treats. “Okay, okay, it is Thanksgiving.” She tossed him a bacon-flavored biscuit. “But we are not making a habit of this.”
She did need to run into the office; that wasn’t a lie. Alvarez seemed hell-bent to prove that Jocelyn Wallis’s death was a homicide. They planned to go over the autopsy, as it should have come in late last night.
Afterward, Pescoli was going over to Santana’s place. A small smile played upon her lips at that thought. If there was one thing about the man, it was that he was always interesting.
And that wasn’t a bad thing.
Definitely not bad at all.
Trace was halfway down the stairs when he called over his shoulder to his son, “Hey, Eli, let’s get a move on!”
No response.
He paused on the landing. “Eli?”
Trace drew a breath and headed up the stairs to the second floor of his farmhouse. Eli had been exceptionally quiet after Trace, trying his hardest not to stumble and pause and struggle for words, had told him that Miss Wallis had met with a terrible accident and was now in heaven. Eli hadn’t said anything in response, so Trace had asked if he knew what heaven was. Then Eli answered promptly, “That’s where you go when you’re dead. If you’re good.”
“Uh . . . yeah,” Trace responded, uncertain where to go after that. Eli had taken matters into his own hands by saying he wanted to watch TV. The subject had been dropped ever since.
Now Trace wondered if he was about to get into a deeper discussion about death with his seven-year-old. He mentally cursed Leanna for running out on them. He might not miss her, but he could’ve really used some help raising their son about now.
“Hey, bud,” Trace said, entering Eli’s room. “We gotta get over to the Zukovs for Turkey Day. Gobble, gobble. Let’s get a move on.” Eli’s room was one of two that faced the front of the house, and as Trace moved into the room, he saw that his son was seated on the floor, some of his Lego blocks scattered around him, cradling his blue cast. “Are you in pain?”
“Do we have to go?” Eli asked, looking up. Trace saw the shimmer of tears in his son’s eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” As Trace crouched to comfort him, Eli shook his head. His little chin trembled, and he swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his good arm. “Is this about your teacher? Miss Wallis is in good hands, son.”
Swallowing hard, Eli stared at Trace with serious, worried eyes. “Where’s Mommy?”
Trace tried hard not to react. It felt as if his heart were being ripped from his chest. What a fool he’d been to think that Leanna’s leaving had been forgotten. He totally got it that Eli losing his teacher had brought these feelings to the surface, but it still threw him for a loop. “I, uh, I don’t really know where she is right now,” Trace admitted.
“She should be here. I want to talk to her.”
Of course he did. “I don’t know how we can do that.” Reaching for the down jacket tossed on the foot of the unmade bed, Trace tried to reassure his boy. “At least not today. But I can try to find her if you want.”
“You don’t know where she is?”
“Not at this exact moment.” His guts twisted. Truth be known, he hoped Leanna never showed her face around here again. He prayed she’d leave her son to grow up without her intervention, because she was certain to