Page 8 of The Body in the Backyard

“Entomb us in the walls of our own attic?” Nick asked.

“Cry like a big dumb baby until your big dumb baby gets here?” Mrs. Penny tried.

Brian grabbed his wife around the waist before Josie could take a swing at the elderly woman.

“Well, this pregnancy is gonna be fun,” Riley said out of the corner of her mouth.

“See? That’s the fight I need in a bodyguard,” Mrs. Penny said, pointing at Josie. “You’re hired.”

“I already work here.” Josie’s snarl turned into a sniffle.

“Look, Josie doesn’t need to do security because we’re not taking the case,” Nick interjected.

“Twenty Gs says we are,” Mrs. Penny insisted, glancing down at the check in her cleavage. “Well, the first five Gs at least. It’s a down payment for services rendered.”

“Twenty grand?” Brian repeated.

Josie quit struggling. “I like money.”

Nick groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Riley cleared her throat.

“Not you too.”

She shrugged against him. “Well, I think heisin some kind of danger, and wouldn’t it be fun to take his money?”

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Seriously? Even if his check doesn’t bounce, he’s a litigious little shit. He’ll sue the fuck out of us, and then I’ll have to throw him in another dumpster,” Nick reminded them.

“I have no problem with that,” Mrs. Penny said. “Besides, my nephew or cousin’s nephew or whatever is a killer lawyer. He’ll sue the petite-cut pants off Gentry.”

Everyone nodded and turned to look at Nick.

“Fuck. Fine. Take the case. But don’t expect me to take it seriously. And if that tiny toadstool even attempts to make a move on Riley here, I’ll be the one threatening his life,” Nick warned.

“What could possibly go wrong?” Brian quipped.

A hunk of broken, bullet-ridden soffit fell from the porch ceiling, narrowly missing Mrs. Penny.

“You should fix that,” she said, poking it with her cane.

“You’re the one who shot it out last night,” Nick reminded her through clenched teeth.

“Okay, people. Let’s talk suspects,”Brian said, computer balanced in his lap.

They had moved their growing investigative team and new client into the living room. Josie had liberated the newly cleaned rolling whiteboard from Nick’s office, and Riley was manning the dry erase marker.

Mrs. Penny sat in a throne-like wingback chair while Griffin tried not to sink too far into the squishy sofa cushions. Burt made himself comfy on one of the window seats and was asleep within seconds.

Nick picked a seat on the other side of the room with his laptop so he could catch up on paperwork and heckle his team while they wasted their time.

He consulted his Get Shit Done list.

Pay bills.

Fix broken windows.