He held my right hand, and I hung onto his arm with my left.
“See?” he said, pointing out the window.
I’d never seen more than the front of the house, but in the back, there was playground equipment that looked similar to what was in the park. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing at a small structure beneath a huge, old white pine.
“I think it might’ve been a playhouse.”
After looking at the third floor, Tackle led me down to the main level and into the kitchen. He opened up a cupboard and pulled out a roll of paper. He removed the rubber band and spread it out on the counter.
“This is the front of the house. My dad and I believe that, at one time, there were two large covered porches off each side of the portico. They must’ve been ripped off the main structure. I intend to put them back.” He rested his finger on another part of the drawing, this time on the side of the house. “I think this may have been a sunroom or sleeping porch. Another porch stretches across the back of the house, big enough that it could be made into two more rooms or left as an outdoor living area since it looks out over the backyard.”
“This must’ve cost a fortune,” I muttered.
He shook his head. “There was an auction. It went for not much more than the back taxes.”
“But the cost to renovate it must be staggering.”
Tackle shrugged. “Not so much when your family owns a construction company.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He crowded me against the counter and put a hand on either side of me. “Don’t say anything yet. Just tell me you’ll try to keep an open mind.”
I gripped the counter when the dizziness got worse. I knew I was about to lose consciousness when I felt my legs give out, and Tackle caught me.
24
Tackle
Sloane was only unconscious long enough for me to pick her up and carry her into the dining room. I’d just sat down on the window seat, the only place in the house where we could sit, when her eyes opened.
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind in those few seconds. Should I call 9-1-1? How far away was Cowboy? Should I text him and ask him to come inside? Was Sloane getting enough to eat? Enough rest? Had I worn her out by bringing her here? I thought back to last night and how little sleep either of us had gotten. I had to be more careful about that in the future.
Or was there something in the house that had made her pass out? It was so old. Had I brought her into a place that might be toxic for her and the baby?
“How do you feel?” I asked when I looked into her beautiful blue eyes.
“I must’ve passed out.”
“That, you did. Do you have any idea what brought it on?”
“I was feeling dizzy.”
“Didn’t think it was important to mention that to me?” When I smiled, so did she. “I’m overwhelming you.”
When Sloane didn’t say anything, I laughed. “I’ll take that as silent affirmation.” She tried to stand, but I wouldn’t let her off my lap. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“Earlier?”
“Today? This week?”
“Today.”
“What sounds good? The Farmstead? Paddy’s?”
She perked up at one of the two; I couldn’t tell which. “I haven’t been to Paddy’s in ages.”
“Do you feel good enough to walk or—”
“I feel fine. I passed out. Not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal at all. People do it every day. It’s especially not a big deal if it happens when they’re driving. Or crossing the street at a busy intersection. Or in the shower.”
“Oh my God, stop.”
When I pulled up to the Irish restaurant that had been a Newton institution for as long as the grill had, something felt off to me. I could see in the rearview Cowboy park his truck a few spots over from where I was. I watched as he got out and walked over to the entrance. I waited for an all-clear sign before taking Sloane inside. It never came.
“What’s going on?” she asked when Cowboy came back out and touched the right side of the brim of his hat instead.
“Let’s go somewhere else.”
Sloane folded her arms. “Did you think I didn’t notice him?”
“Who?”
“The guy you’ve had following me. You know, the one who just went into Paddy’s, came back out, and signaled you not to go inside.”
I shook my head and laughed. “So is Farmstead okay with you instead?”
“Of course.”
We drove up and went through the same routine we had at the last place. This time, I saw Cowboy give the all clear.
“What’s his name?” asked Sloane when we got out of the car.
“Garrison Cassidy.”
“Good Lord. Where’d you find him? Texas?”
“He’s one of Doc’s finds.”
When we walked inside, Cowboy was seated at the counter studying a menu.
“Ask him to join us,” Sloane said before the hostess approached.
“How many?” she asked.
I said two and Sloane said three.
“Three and a half,” I joked when the woman went to clear a table.
“More like three and a third.”
The hostess motioned for us to follow. Once Sloane was seated, I went to get Cowboy.
“What was the deal at Paddy’s?” I asked.
“See for yourself.” He held out his phone, and I looked at the photo he’d taken.
“Is that DeLuca?” The very guy who Razor said was purported to be the head of the Sabatino family and who Nick’s husband had alleged connections to.
“Affirmative.”
“Do you think his being on this side of town is a coincidence?”
“I don’t know, but I made Doc and Razor aware of his twenty.”
“Good.”
“Uh, how’s Sloane?”
“Shit. Waiting for us.” I motioned for him to follow me. “Whatever you do, do not mention DeLuca.”
He gave me a “what do you take me for, asshole?” look.
“Hey, I’m Sloane. It’s nice to meet you in person,” she said when we joined her at the table.
“Garrison, but most call me Cowboy.”
“So, Garrison, what did you see at Paddy’s
