Page 88 of Dead Serious: Case 3 Mr Bruce Reyes

Chan shrugs as her eyes drift shut again and she rolls onto her side and tucks her hands under her face. “He said there’s something there about Bruce’s great-great-great grandmother or something.” She yawns.

“Cordelia Crawshanks?” I reply dubiously. “I don’t think there is any mention of her in there. The first time I heard her name was when Harrison showed me the Crawshanks family tree.”

“Hm,” she murmurs. “Just what he said.”

“What? Chan?” But it’s too late. She’s fallen asleep curled up comfortably on her side. Smiling at her and filled with affection, I grab the furry leopard-print blanket draped over the end of the sofa and tuck her in. Then, standing up, I glance around at the stacks of boxes lining the walls.

“I guess I should start looking for the guide.” I glance at Danny. “It should be in one of these boxes, somewhere.”

“I’ll help.” He drops down onto a plush zebra-print boudoir chair. Setting the crutches on the floor beside him, he drags the nearest box toward him.

“Will you keep an eye on her for me?” Dusty says and as I turn to look at her, she’s kneeling beside Chan and stroking her hair, her eyes filled with so much love.

“I’ve got her,” I say softly.

“I need to go back to Bruce.” She looks up at me. “I don’t know how much time he has left, but it can’t be much longer.” Her eyes shimmer with tears that she tries to blink back, and my heart hurts for her and Bruce. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to him,” she whispers.

“We’ve got four days left until the eclipse.” I try to sound confident although my stomach is churning with worry. “It will all be over by then, one way or another.”

She nods solemnly and stands. “I’ll check back in on you later.”

I shake my head. “Stay with Bruce,” I tell her. “He needs you more than we do right now. He shouldn’t be left on his own.”

“Dusty,” Danny says, looking around the room since he’s not sure where she’s standing, “we’ll figure it out, I promise. We’ll help Bruce.”

Dusty sighs. “I hope so,” she mutters as she looks at me. “Tell Danny I said thank you.”

I nod and she’s gone. I turn my attention back to Danny.

“She said to say thank you.”

“Okay.” He cracks open the lid on the box. “Let’s find this book.”

20

Ilook up to see Tristan scowling as he walks into the kitchen while hanging up his phone and tucking it back in his pocket.

“How did it go?” I ask, although his expression tells me pretty much everything I need to know.

“Mr Ahmed has gone from passively unconcerned to absolute dick,” he replies with a frustrated sigh. “He’s saying it’s my fault for letting the damage to the flat get so bad, that I didn’t tell him it was as urgent as it was, so he’s trying to claim that I’m responsible for part of the repairs.”

“He can fuck off,” I reply indignantly.

“That’s exactly what I told him,” Tristan snorts. “He can whine about it all he wants, but I have two years’ worth of documentation, letters, emails, and text messages including photos. He chose to ignore it and was all in breach of his landlord agreement, so not only does he have to pay for the repairs to the flat, but he’s also libel for the damage to our personal belongings.”

“Did you tell him that too?”

“I did, very succinctly.” Tristan smiles with a hint of wickedness dancing in his eyes.

“I’ll bet he just loved that.” I shake my head, returning his amused smile.

“Well, he was still inventing hybrid expletives when I hung up on him.” He slides onto one of the padded red-and-white chairs at the retro diner table Brandy lent us, which is currently one of the only things in the kitchen apart from the cupboards.

“What about this one?” I change the subject and turn my laptop around so he can see the screen.

He studies the refrigerator I’ve chosen and nods. “Looks like it’ll do the job. Did you measure up?”

“It’ll fit,” I reply, “and they do it on next day delivery so we can have it by tomorrow morning. Same with the cooker.”