Page 53 of Traitor
“Someone got lucky,” Lexie comments with a mile-wide grin.
“Alexus Collier,” I admonish, as I push around the counter. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”
“Your uncle’s right, Lexie. His love life is his own business.” Nell’s eyes are dancing when she turns to face me, then grows more serious. “Martha Winfrey, who lives out in the cabin by Alice’s said the sheriff was over visiting this morning. Did you guys run into some more trouble?”
Before I can answer, the doors burst open again and Mercy saunters through like she didn’t abandon her daughter. “I’m back!” she announces.
The smile slides off Lexie’s face and she crosses her arms over her chest.
I straighten and step in front of her, turning to Mercy. “Where the hell have you been?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. I was only gone for a couple of days, and it’s not like she’s a baby. She can practically take care of herself by now, anyway.” Mercy shakes out her hair with one manicured claw and then tosses it over her shoulders.
“An uncle who she barely knows in a strange town. You can’t disappear like that without any notice. She’s your kid, for Christ’s sake. You can’t assume people will always be around to clean up your messes, Mercy. We have lives, too. I’ve got a business to run and a lot of shit to do that can’t be set to the side for your whims.”
“I don’t have to listen to this. I’ve had a long drive and I don’t appreciate your tone. Come on, Lexie. I want you to see what pretty presents I’ve brought back for you.” Mercy skirts around me and beelines for Lexie, who steps out of her reach.
“No, I don’t want to go anywhere with you. You disappeared and didn’t even call me to let me know when you’d be back. I hate you!” she screams, tears running down her cheeks. Mercy takes another tentative step forward, but Lexie spins on her heel and darts down the hallway to my apartment.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Mercy says, and then follows after her daughter.
I scrub a hand over my face and wonder if I should be the one calling into work today. There should be sick days for family obligations, especially when it comes to the female species.
“Give them some time,” Nell advises and pats my arm. When the phone rings, she picks it up, her greeting cheerful. “Bear Lake Lodge, Nell speaking.”
She extends her arm. “It’s for you. It’s Sheriff Hadley.”
I lean a hip against the counter. “Hadley. Now really isn’t a good time, can I call you back later?”
His sigh fills a line. “‘Fraid not. I sent a couple deputies down to the lot where you said you were yesterday. While they were there, some civilians flagged them down. Jesus, Ford. They found the body. She’d been dumped in the ravine down below Windy Point. A couple of daytrippers stumbled across her.”
“She?” My jaw clenches. It’s irrational, but I imagine Peyton lifeless, skin pale as death, eyes dull and staring into nothingness, and it rocks me to the core.
“Christ, Ford. It’s Lola. She’s dead. I’m gonna need you to come in and talk.”