“Hasn’t Kevin told you all this?”
Busted.
“Um, well, he doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Neither do I, Nina. No offense.”
This conversation was going downhill fast. “None taken,”
I said, thinking fast, grasping at straws.
I completely ignored my use of that particular cliche. It fit.
“It’s just that since coming to work for you and Bill, Riley’s been talking about his mom a lot. He has questions I can’t answer.”
I was going to burn in hell for my lies. I made a mental note to head to confession at St. Valentine’s as soon as possible.
Then I remembered I hated confession.
Maybe I’d just do some acts of kindness on my own as penance. God would accept that, wouldn’t He?
Probably I was going to hell.
“Have him come to talk to me. My door is always open.”
To him. Her point was clear. She was done talking to
Great. I’d taken on this job to get more information about Leah and her death, and I’d just gotten shafted. Now I was stuck with a nightmare of a job and no answers.
This was what I got for snooping.
16
Heather Webber
“Well, what’s Bill doing tomorrow?” I loved hearing the ways people tricked unknowing spouses to leave the house while the makeover took place.
“Bill?” she asked, her eyebrows dipping in confusion.
“Oh, he’ll be at work, right?” I remembered Riley worked tomorrow, a Friday, which meant it was a day Bill would be there.
“In the afternoon,” she said.
My shoulders stiffened. “Not the morning?”
“Oh, no. The restaurant doesn’t open till eleven. Bill likes to sleep late.”
My crew was due to arrive at six-thirty, the trucks at seven. This wasn’t good, and I told Lindsey so. “Unless he knows about the makeover?” Some people did that. People who just wanted their yard done in a day, but I tried to only take on clients who wanted the surprise, to keep the integrity of the business.
“Oh!” Her hands fluttered again. “Right. He’s, um, going, um, fishing. First light.”
My eyebrows jumped up to my hairline. “Fishing.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “He loves it.” Grabbing her purse, she said, “I’ve got to go, Nina. See you tomorrow.”
I stood and walked her to the front door, all the while trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Frenzied chiming filled the air as she thrust open the door, practically ran to her Escalade.
I turned to Tam.
“You have that look,” she said.
“What look?”
“Like you’re trying to figure out impossible calculus equations.”
Calculus. Ugh. I’d flunked that my senior year of high school and had only scraped by my freshman year of college.
17
And only then because I’d had a crush on my math tutor and wanted to please him.
“I get the weirdest feeling with her.” The Escalade fish-tailed out of the TBS parking lot.
“Like?” Tam asked.
“It’s just that some of the things she’s said don’t jell. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“You are a paranoid kind of person.”
“Thanks.”
Smiling sweetly, she said, “No problem.”
Shaking my head, I walked back into my office. The phone rang and my hopeful gaze jumped to the clock.
