Naked Games (Hard to Get 3)
2
“Wow,” Mary said. “Just . . . wow.”
Despite the craziness of the situation, Catherine found herself smiling. “Yeah. I was pretty speechless too.”
Mary frowned down at the half-empty bottle of beer in her hand. “This calls for something stronger than a Bud Light.” Her blue gaze landed on Catherine. “Do you have any red wine handy?”
Catherine curled her legs underneath her as she polished off the last slice of pepperoni pizza. “There are a few bottles on the wine rack next to the microwave.” She shrugged. “I don’t want any, but help yourself.”
Mary stood and brushed at her jeans. “Be right back.”
Catherine watched her friend leave the room and shook her head. Once more she wondered how she could possibly survive without the tall, dark-haired whirlwind. From the time they’d met, Mary and Catherine had stood by each other. Mary had been a newbie to Catherine’s high school, a transplant from a school up north. She’d been trying to find the physics classroom and Catherine had helped her out. They’d been friends since. Her mother had once described them as twin opposites—as close as sisters but as different as night and day.
When Mary came back into the room she held two full wineglasses. Catherine rolled her eyes as she took one. “I thought I said none for me?”
“After a day like today? You need it, believe me.” Mary took a hearty swallow of her own wine, then said, “Okay, let’s take this party upstairs. We’ve put it off long enough.”
Catherine stood. “I’m afraid of what I’ll find.” She winced and admitted, “Or not find.”
Mary waved a hand in the air. “Catherine, your parents were awesome people. I don’t know what the hell they were thinking by keeping this from you, but they did love you.” In a softer voice she asked, “You do know that, right?”
Catherine nodded. “I know, it’s just difficult not being able to face them and ask that one all-important question.”
“Why didn’t they tell you,” Mary said, knowing exactly what was on her mind.
“Yeah.” Catherine shrugged. “I can deal with being adopted. I can even deal with them wanting to wait for the right moment to tell me. But this feels like a secret. Like they didn’t want anyone knowing, not just me.” Unable to look at her friend, Catherine instead stared at the ruby liquid in her glass as she asked, “Were they ashamed?”
“Of you?” Mary snorted. “Never in a million years. Your parents were so stinking proud of everything you did. Even when you screwed up they usually found a way to make it out to be a good thing.” Mary patted her on the back and said, “No, this isn’t about shame. And we won’t know anything by standing in the middle of the living room chatting about it either. So, what’s our plan? I know you, you have a plan.”
Catherine laughed and glanced up at the ceiling and knew she was going to have to go up the stairs and dig through her parents’ belongings. “No big plan, not really. I want to go through my parents’ bedroom. There might be something there that can help me figure this mess out.”
She nodded. “What about a safety deposit box? Could they have records locked away at the bank maybe?”
Catherine took another sip of her wine before saying, “No. Mama never trusted the bank. She was old school.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of the expensive crystal. “Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found cash under her mattress.”
Mary wagged her eyebrows. “So, it’s sort of like a treasure hunt.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Catherine said, swatting her on the forearm.
“I’m adorable and we both know it,” Mary replied before taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face the stairway. “Now, scoot. We have secrets to uncover.”
The nudge was all it took to get Catherine out of the room and up the stairs. As she reached her parents’ closed bedroom door, she looked over her shoulder and stuck her nose in the air. “Who knows, maybe I’ll discover I’m royalty or something.”
“Or, like, a long-lost Mafia princess,” Mary whispered, as if imparting some deep, dark secret. “That’d be cool. I have a few people I’d like to take a contract hit out on. My boss for starters.” She cursed. “The little weasel.”
Catherine rolled her eyes as she turned the knob and pushed the door open. “I highly doubt I have Mafia blood in me. I can’t even kill a spider without feeling queasy.”
Mary reached over and flipped the light switch. “But it’d be pretty sweet if you were, right?”
Glancing around the large room with the king-size bed, Catherine felt the now-familiar pangs in her gut. Loss. Grief. It was all there. She could never get used to how empty the room seemed. She spotted her mama’s blue robe hanging on the bedpost and had to swallow back the pain. If she picked it up it would smell like her. Gardenias. Her mother’s favorite scent. “I’d rather be royalty,” she said, trying to keep to the conversation and ignore the sadness welling up inside her.
“Well, let’s hope we’ll find out sooner rather than later.”
Catherine heard the worry in Mary’s voice and turned toward her. “You don’t think Mama and Daddy kept any records here?”
Mary took one last sip of her wine, then placed the glass on the dresser. “There’s only one way to find out. Where do you want me to start?”
Catherine placed her half-empty glass next to Mary’s and looked around. When her gaze came to the closet, she pointed to it. “Start there. On the top shelf there’s a big white box. Mama warned me away from it once when I asked what was in it. Maybe there’s something that might help.”