Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“I still don’t get why you don’t just ask him,” Drew said. She was standing by the dry fountain behind the former Bluebonnet Inn.
Willow was on a stepladder near the back door where a security camera was mounted. “Because he’d be as likely to lie as tell the truth,” she replied. “And I don’t trust myself not to believe him purely because I want to.”
The cameras had been installed on the vacant house many years back, after some kids started using the backyard garden as a party spot. Drew had downloaded an app. Willow got the password from Juanita, and now they would be able to monitor anything within range.
Drew held her phone, and called. “A little to the left.”
Willow moved the camera.
“No my left,” Drew said.
Willow moved it again.
“Right there, perfect.” As Drew said it, she moved around the fountain, watching herself on her phone. “Yep, best view of the spot Jeremiah seemed most interested in, and most of the backyard, too. Tighten that thumbscrew so it stays that way.”
Willow was already tightening it.
“I hope it’s as good a view after dark,” Drew said. “He’s not gonna dig up private property in broad daylight, after all.”
“Probably not.”
Drew stood there, arms crossed, tipping her head (and ponytail) left and right, still watching her phone as she moved around the backyard. “It’s an out-of-date system. No battery backup, it’s hardwired right into the house. I wish we had better equipment.”
“Doesn’t your mom have better equipment?” Willow asked. Penny Brand was a PI, after all. She’d assisted the women of Quinn County in a pile of divorces.
“She has it all right. Has it locked up. Orrin and I get the cast-offs, which are no better than what’s here, so…” She shrugged. “And during the bonfire, I’ll get a look at his phone. But you’ll have to distract him. Think you can manage that?”
Willow averted her face, turning to walk back toward the house, but not inside. They had no key, and she didn’t want to tell her secret to more people than necessary, so she hadn’t consulted Cat.
They went through the garden gate, which was white-painted wrought iron, in need of a fresh coat, some straightening, and some squeaky hinge oil. They’d parked in the driveway, rather than out by the road where their vehicles would more likely be seen.
Drew drove a little EV. She was the most modern-minded member of the whole clan, and maybe the most strongly opinionated. She was also the youngest cousin, so the rest of them tended to look out for her.
Aunt Penny, Drew’s mom, a PI and lifelong sleuth, and had planned to name her baby girl Nancy, after Nancy Drew.
According to family lore, the baby girl had wailed every time her mamma’d called her Nancy, until one day, before leaving the hospital, her daddy had called her Drew.
The baby smiled and she’d been Drew ever since.
Her young cousin followed her to her pickup.
She had taken Willow’s phone, and was tapping its screen.
When she handed it back to her, she showed her a new icon on the screen.
“Here’s the app. All you have to do is tap it, and then tap its camera icon to bring up the live feed.
I’ve already put in the password, which we will delete as soon as we finish. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good. It’ll backup the recordings to my secure cloud until we tell it to stop.”
“You have a secure cloud?”
“And a VPN,” Drew said with pride. “Well, Mom does.”
Willow didn’t know for sure what a VPN was. She opened her pickup door, but Drew didn’t move toward her own small, white vehicle. She looked like she had something else to say, so Will faced her again, and asked, “Whatever it is, spill it. I have an appointment with a sketch artist at nine.”
“You’d think Uncle Garrett would put a day shift deputy on that,” Drew said.
“He offered. I said no. It’s my case.”
“Anything I can do to help?” the eager amateur detective asked.
“Not yet, but I’m not too proud to tell you if I need something.”
Drew smiled, a bright summer-girl smile amid her butterscotch blonde waves and Texas tan. There was something about brown-eyed blondes, wasn’t there?
But then her face went serious again. “Have you talked to Ethan about spying on his brother like this?”
“No.” Willow took a breath, preparing to justify herself when she knew damn well she couldn’t.
“Look, it’s between me and Jeremiah. I heard him say he was deceivin’ me, and that he was here lookin’ for somethin’.
Not his long-lost brother like he told us all, but somethin’ his criminal father left here for safekeepin’.
Somethin’ physical that could be buried. ”
“And why do you have anything to do with any of this, cuz? What do you care if he’s deceivin’ you?”
She shifted her eyes to her steering wheel. “I’m a deputy sheriff. If he’s deceivin’ me, it might be because he’s doing somethin’ criminal.”
She looked back at Drew to see if she’d bought it.
Drew’s eyes and mouth were both open too wide. She closed her mouth, then said, “You had sex with him.”
“I did not!”
“Ohmygosh, you so had sex with him. You’re blushing! Willow, you have to tell me everything. Better yet, wait, I’ll get Maria and Lily and we’ll—”
“I don’t want anyone to know!” she blurted.
Drew bit back the rest of her suggestion. Then she pursed her lips, and gave a slow nod. “Okay. I won’t breathe a word. Promise.”
“Okay.”
“As long as you tell me everything.”
Willow looked at her watch, then shook her head. “I have to meet the sketch artist.”
“Can I come along? I’ve never seen a sketch artist in action before.”
Willow realized Drew had her over a barrel. Not that she’d use what she knew against her. Probably. “Okay fine, you can come with me and watch the sketch artist.”
Jeremiah went back to bed after Willow left him in the middle of the night. He woke up late the next morning, hugging his twisted up blanket and muttering Willow’s name, listening to his heart pound unnaturally in his chest in a way that had to mean something was wrong with it.
Then he realized the pounding wasn’t his heart, but somebody knocking on the bunkhouse door. Or maybe a combination of both.
Groaning, he rolled out of the bed, shuffled to the front door, and pulled it open to find his younger-but-bigger brother Ethan on the other side. He probably should’ve noted the look on his face before he pulled the door open.
Ethan’s big fists gripped him by the front of his T-shirt. “I saw my cousin Willow sneakin’ outta here like a thief, long about two a.m. What the hay is goin’ on?”
“Don’t you think you should ask me first and beat me up after I’ve answered?”
“That’s why I didn’t punch you in the face when you opened the door.”
Jeremiah pulled himself free and smoothed his rumpled T-shirt. He felt at an extreme disadvantage in his shorts, and he was afraid his brother would kill him if he admitted to defiling his beloved cousin.
God, she’d been something, though. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, that crazy long hair, that satin skin, the sounds she made, the taste of her kisses…
“Well?” Ethan demanded.
“Willow’s helping me retrace our old man’s steps while he was in Quinn, before he was arrested.”
“At that time of the mornin', all alone out here?”
“She works the night shift, brother. Stopped by when she got off.” And man did she ever get off—three times by his count. “She fell asleep while we were talking, and I didn’t have the heart to wake her. Hell, Ethan, it’s a bunkhouse. Everybody crashes out here when they feel like it.”
Ethan lowered his head, and maybe his temper cooled a little bit.
Jeremiah said, “You want to come in? Talk for a minute?”
His oversized brother looked past him toward the kitchen counter. “You got coffee?”
Jeremiah turned to the coffee pot, then he remembered what Willow had done for him that morning and hit the button.
The brew started brewing. When he turned again, his cousin scowled at him.
He realized he was wearing a goofy smile and promptly wiped it off, cleared his throat, and changed the subject.
“I had emails waitin’ after Will left,” Jeremiah said to change the subject. “Lawyer says somebody’s contesting our father’s will. I might never see a nickel, the way things are going.”
“He said that, did he?”
“No, I added that last part. He says I oughtta wind up with at least half. They’re liquidating everything.”
“Cuttin’ you a check when it’s settled?”
“Not even a check. Electronic deposit soon as the judge rules. Gavel comes down, money comes in. Whatever’s left of it.
” He grabbed a pair of mugs from the cabinet above the pot.
He’d been in the bunkhouse long enough that he knew where everything was.
And he knew the trick of swapping the carafe for a mug, then swapping that mug for another mug until both were full.
He expertly shifted the pot back into place, and handed a mug to his brother.
Ethan took it, took a sip, nodded in approval. “Good coffee.”
“Thanks.” He’d have to ask Willow for tips.
“So do you know who it is?” Ethan asked. “The person contesting the will?”
“No, they’re anonymous for the moment, but it’ll have to come out, he says. I’m not ashamed to tell you, brother, the investments I’ve been living off have taken a hit this year.” He’d be all right, though, once he found the gold.
Ethan had a way of listening that made you feel like he cared about every word you uttered. “Come be a bouncer at Two Lilies,” he added at length. “We’d be proud to have you. And I’ll tell you, we’re fixin to need more help once the baby comes.”
“I’m considering it,” he said. But not until he finished his mission.
“Why do you want to retrace de Lorean’s steps in Quinn?” Ethan asked as if he’d read his mind.
Jeremiah sipped his coffee to avoid meeting his brother’s eyes. It was getting harder to lie to peoples’ faces since he’d come here, and he was damned if he knew why.