We walked back to her bedroom, where she was in the middle of spritzing perfume onto her neck.
“Mom?” Amber said, her voice thin and fragile.
“Oh, hey, hon. You’re late.”
Amber hesitated, then looked down at her feet. “I went to Paula’s house. We made cookies.”
And there it was. The spike of emotion I’d been waiting for, but instead of anger, I sensed a spasm of pain. She was hurt that Amber had just lied to her. “Go do your homework. I’m going out for a while.”
“’Kay.”
The little fairy princess shuffled off, feeling more miserable for having lied. She’d figure that out soon. I had complete faith in her. But Cook was hurt by her deception. No idea why. I lied to her all the time.
The second Amber was out of earshot, Cookie rushed to close her door and whirled on me. “What happened?”
“Sit down first.”
She did as I asked and I explained the entire event in detail, including the part about Captain Eckert. And what he’d been up to. He had to be behind all the panhandlers and the cop with the camera.
“What is that man’s deal?”
“I wish I knew, but I wanted you to be aware of the fact that Amber behaved beautifully, Cook. She never left Quentin’s side. And she’s learning so much sign. I’m terribly proud of her.”
“She just lied to me.”
“Yes, and I promise you, she feels worse about it than you do.”
She turned a hopeful gaze on me. “Really?”
“I give it a day. She’ll tell you the truth. She wants to talk to you about what happened so bad, Cook.”
The corners of her mouth crinkled in a relieved half smile.
I got up to leave. “Before I forget, I want you to find out everything you can about the girl in the cable car. Her name was Miranda Nelms. I want to know if they charged her mother and brother with anything.”
“Her brother, too?”
“Long story. You don’t want to know.”
“No,” she said, holding up a hand in lieu of a stop sign, “you’re right. I already know more than I want to. I’ll get on it first thing tomorrow.”
“Perfect. Are you ready for your date?”
And the apprehension was back in full force. “I just don’t know what to wear.” She tossed aside the pair of pants she’d been holding.
“I would definitely suggest keeping the pants, but you do what makes you most comfortable. Besides, your date is gay.”
Surprise lit her face, and the apprehension she’d been feeling dissipated. “That’s great. I don’t have to worry about impressing him. He wouldn’t be into me either way, right?”
“Right. He works for APD dispatch, but I doubt Uncle Bob knows him or the fact that he’s gay.” I snorted. “That would suck. All of our hard work would be down the drain if that were the case.”
“And you’re meeting Robert there, right? To make sure he sees us?”
I checked my watch. “In one hour on the dot. Are you okay with leaving Amber by herself for a while?”
“After what happened? No. I’m leaving the cop Robert sent over with her. And I’ve asked Mrs. Allen to check on her as well.”
“Cook, the last time Mrs. Allen checked on her, Amber ended up in the hospital.”
She nodded before saying, “It wasn’t Mrs. Allen’s fault. She was just trying to check up on Amber.”
“In the dark, with a her hair in curlers and a Scandinavian mud mask on her face. Amber tried to run from her and ran face-first into a doorjamb. I’ll never understand why Mrs. Allen didn’t just turn on a light.”
“It’s okay.” She patted my leg consolingly. “All the swelling is gone now, and I’ve asked Mrs. Allen to just knock and wait for the plainclothes to answer the door.”
“And you think that’ll work, do ya?” I chuckled. It sounded maniacal. It didn’t quite have that refined edge of psychosis that I was going for, but it worked. I pointed to her closet. “Pants? Not that I don’t appreciate a nice pair of pantaloons as much as the next girl, but most restaurants require they be covered.”
I gave Amber a hug before I left and suffered the long trek back to my place. Five steps later, I pried my door open with a hefty nudge from my shoulder, then stumbled inside when it gave. Reyes had patched it temporarily—at least I could open and close it now—but I’d need a new doorframe. That man did not know his own strength. Of course, he hadn’t considered the fact that my door had been unlocked when he decided to crash through it. I righted myself and stopped. Something was different about my apartment. What could it be?