Chapter 5 #2
“Carry her up to the house. You look strong enough,” she says, her eyes tracking down and then up the front of me.
“Follow the path along there. And then you and I are going to have a cup of tea while you answer a few more questions. I’ll meet you at the front door to my home.
Please be gentle with her.” She turns her back, and then hustles to a quad that’s parked off to the side.
It roars to life seconds later, and I haven’t said a fucking thing.
I wasn’t going to just disappear, not now. My plans changed the moment I heard her say my name. The hike up to the house isn’t easy, but the path is lit, and the woman’s waiting for me at the front door as she promised.
This was supposed to be an in-and-out job.
Maximum of twelve hours, and then I’d mark the end of one family legacy, allowing me to focus on the other.
And I could go on searching for the woman who’s now limp in my arms. Fuck.
I hate how my training has put me on autopilot, to the point I did this to her.
I tend to zone out and focus on the single task of cleaning and disposing, and then erasing every trace of violence, and my presence.
I didn’t get a look at her, only that she was someone who shouldn’t have been there.
Sweat drips down my torso as I round the front walkway, and the older woman greets me with a cold stare, leaning against the front porch baluster of her Victorian-style home.
“You’re bleeding,” she says, like it’s an inconvenience to her. Before I can even respond, she turns away and walks through the open front door. “Bring her inside. I have a chaise in my solarium where she’ll be comfortable.”
A steel-gabled roof and turrets make the place seem opulent, brimming with as much character as the woman in a bright blue velvet housecoat.
I move through the dimly lit home and down the hall that deposits into an eclectic kitchen.
Tipping her chin up and nodding toward her left, she says, “Through there. I’ll be right behind you. ”
I do my best to place Naomi down gently on the long, plush lounger, but her head lulls back, and seeing her like this makes me feel like the scum of the earth.
Hating that this is the way we’ve been brought together again, I push a piece of her hair off her face.
The dim lights around the room serve as uplighting to the lush greenery throughout as I straighten and take a deep breath.
It’s cooler in here, but the air is damp with humidity.
Windows reflect the light, making it feel more like a greenhouse.
“That is my oldest granddaughter you so valiantly carried in here,” she says upon entering.
“I’m Bernadette Crowne, but you may call me Birdie.
” She deposits the tray with a teapot and cups on an empty, gold-embellished bar cart to the right of an ornate wingback chair.
“Sit,” she demands as she pours a cup of tea.
When she offers a cup to me, I hold out my hand and say, “I’m good, ma’am. No thank you.”
She sniffs a laugh to herself, like something is funny about that. “Like I said, it’s Birdie, not ma’am. And you see, Mr. Colton, this isn’t a nice gesture from an older woman.” She looks over at her granddaughter. “As you can imagine, we’ve found ourselves with a little problem?—”
No shit.
“And I need to figure out how best to proceed.” Tipping her head, her gaze drops to the dainty teacup that hovers between us. “First, you’re going to sit, then drink the tea that I’ve prepared, and then you’re going to answer a few more of my questions.”
I look over at the beautiful woman laid out in front of me, and then back to Birdie as I take a seat and sip the putrid-smelling drink. “Alright,” I resign. I’ll answer her questions and expect a response to a few of my own.
After a few quiet moments as she leans against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her, on an exhale, she asks, “How long?” She swallows and clarifies, “Since your father passed?”
“A little over three years,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Sam.” She whispers my father’s name as her hand covers her mouth.
Shifting in my chair, I tell her, “I thought I had shared the news with everyone. My apologies that it took so long for me to tell you.”
Birdie bats away a tear and raises her chin. “He was a good man.”
I nod. There wasn’t a single detail that I could find that said otherwise. Dad liked to manipulate the rules. His morals skewed differently from what was typically considered right and wrong. But she’s right; at the core of who he was, he was a good man.
“I think a part of me knew.” She shifts, crossing her feet at the ankles “We had a bit of a streak for a while. I’ve been dealing with things in my family, and I hadn’t realized how long?—”
I glance at my watch. If I was going to leave, I would be talking to air traffic control right now, not a woman who’s likely far more dangerous than she appears.
My goal was to wrap up this part of my life after tonight.
I wanted something more than having to keep secrets from people.
I glance at Naomi. The idea of having someone I shared everything with only works if I’m actually able to share everything.
The cleaning business doesn’t allow for that—my father learned that the hard way.
“Birdie, I’m going to need you to lose my contact after tonight.”
She gives me a tight-lipped smile. There aren't any further questions about it. That’s always been a part of this business that I respect—the stakes are high, and it leaves little to no room for emotions and opinions.
“If that’s what you prefer,” she says with a nod. “I would like to know exactly how much of the mess my granddaughter had a chance to see.” She holds up her finger as I take another sip of the tea, and then adds, “But first, let me see your palm.”