Page 95
Story: The Usual Family Mayhem
Gram snorted. “You? Today?”
“I saw Kasey in the yard. I wanted to say hello. My understanding is she’ll be leaving town soon.”
Gram took a quick look toward the driveway. It looked like she doubted his I-can-see-through-buildings explanation, too. “Who told you such a thing?”
“I have a meeting, so I need to leave.” The car fob and a few keys on his chain dangled from his fingers. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
With that, he broke away from us and headed toward the driveway. The driveway you couldn’t see from this angle.
“Harlan?” Gram called out, stopping his overconfident steps. “Have you ever had raisin pie?”
Oh, shit.
He frowned. “I don’t believe so.”
“Maybe I’ll make you one.”
Harlan nodded and left. I waited until he disappeared around the corner to confront Gram. “You can’t kill him.”
“We’ll see.” Gram shrugged. “Why are you out here?”
“Getting some fresh air.” I said a silent thank-you to Celia for that lifetime excuse. Not that it was true. I’d asked about seeing inside the shed earlier and Gram had handed me a cupcake. The trick worked to delay my snooping, not erase it, which was why I stood right here.
“Stop worrying about the shed. I have it handled.” She stared in the empty space where Harlan had just stood. “What did he say to you?”
This required a delicate dance. The last thing I wanted was for Celia and Gram to worry about Harlan’s pontificating. “You should be in DC. Jackson has a future here without you.You know, the usual.”
“That nonsense about Jackson? Ignore it.” Gram added apfftin there to drive home her point. “He’s a grown man. He knows what he wants.”
My thoughts about Jackson, our relationship, and his feelingsabout it jumbled together. The moving pieces refused to stop shifting long enough for me to put the puzzle together. “Maybe, but you still can’t feed Harlan poison pie.”
Gram didn’t respond for a few seconds. When she finally did, she hummed. “You’d be surprised what I can justify.”
Chapter Forty-Four
This morning started with finding the report, continued with an unwanted visit, complete with a side of not-so-subtle threats from Harlan, and ended now. In Gram’s backyard. It was pretty sad this moment was the high point of my day.
I held the bolt cutter I bought this afternoon. The guy at the home improvement store looked concerned when I said I needed whatever tool would help me break a lock and that I needed the most powerful one he had. Because what did I know about heavy-duty versus regular when it came to bolt cutters? Better to go big and be safe.
I hadn’t had this much excitement since my DC neighbor carvedI suck at sexinto the side of her husband’s—soon to be ex-husband’s—car when she found out he was having an affair. I was there for the “after” when the husband came home and saw it. He didn’t appreciate the decoration and called the police. The wife stumped the officers when she explained that her name was also on the title, so she could do whatever she wanted to the car. All in all, a very interesting three hours.
“When you said we should go out tonight, I thought you meant on a date.” Jackson leaned against the shed. “Not that sneaking around Mags and Celia’s backyard isn’t fun, but we haven’t had dinner yet and you lured me here with the promise of a predinner muffin. Where’s the muffin?”
He looked more adorable than usual. He’d refused to wear all black because, and I quote,we’re not robbing the place. He really needed to work on his killjoy tendencies. After I promised to model the tie to his robe—without the robe—when we got back to the condo, he conceded to putting on jeans and a black sweater. Close enough.
“Admit it. You enjoy the drama.”
“I can see why you’d think so.” He looked at the bolt cutter. “Are you ready to explain why you’re holding that?”
I’d tucked the tool away on the far side of the shed, near the old greenhouse, after I bought it. I’d waited until we got in the yard to pull it out. Jackson took the reveal surprisingly well. He didn’t initially ask what we were doing, but Jackson being Jackson, now he had questions.
I stuck to a simple answer. “To break the lock.”
It was just after eight. The sun had gone down about fifteen minutes ago. The porch light clicked on via timer just as Gram and Celia settled in to watch some sort of FBI show.
“There.” I pointed behind him.
He stood up straight. Scanned the area. Frowned. “The shed?”
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