Page 88 of A Quick Buck

Noah grabbed a pastry and munched, listening casually to their chat. He was glad Mr. Tamerlane and whoever were still arriving empty-handed from the sound of it. It meant that Uncle Patrick was still alive, at least, wherever the hell he was.

Maybe Patrick was hiding somewhere. Maybe he was trying to discover who the real killer was to save himself.

Maybe…

Frida had a large tray of dirty glasses, heading into the house. She very purposefully did not look at Noah as she went by.

“So, uh.” Noah cleared his throat. “We really gotta get all of this shit cleaned up before our special guests get here?”

“Yes. That was my intention.” Alistair raised a brow. “What of it?”

“Well, I was thinking, you know, it’s a lot of work. Like, wow. This place is trashed to hell. I was thinking if Frida needs some help—”

“Funny how you assume Frida is gonna be the one cleaning it up,” Crybaby cut in with a snarl.

“Oh, no.” Noah set down his pastry and held up his hands. “No! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“How did you mean it, huh?”

“Definitely not just because she’s a lady or whatever it is I’ve said that’s pissing you off?”

Alistair snorted and shook his head at Crybaby.

She made a face, but she backed off.

“Crybaby does raise a good point.” Alistair took another drink of his juice. “It is unfair that you assume Frida will be doing the cleaning.”

“I didn’t mean because she’s a lady!” Noah complained. “She still works here, doesn’t she?”

“She does, but she works for me now.”

“Okay, so?”

“So, I think this was your party, and you are going to be the one cleaning it up.” Alistair smiled.

Noah laughed.

Alistair was still smiling.

“You’re fuckin’ serious?” Noah scoffed.

“Oh, very.”

Chapter 13

Noah looked around the patio with a grimace. The mess even spilled out into the yard and the landscaping surrounding the house. It was an enormous mess, and he wished now he had never opened up his damn mouth.

“Enjoy your breakfast.” Alistair grinned. “Would you like some coffee? Might need that boost of caffeine, hmm?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.” Noah aggressively bit his pastry.

“Right. You’re so young, you should be fine.”

Fine was not the word Noah would have used.

Annoyed, hot, and sweaty.

Oh, and pissed off.