Chapter 14
“Ruben Renaud. You’re Naomi’s great-grandson.” Elizabeth turned to face the girl.
She shrank back at the formidable frown on the senior Easton’s face. “You must be Kendra.”
“How do you know my name?” the girl demanded.
“Definitely a Renaud,” Elizabeth sighed. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in this family.”
Ruben, realizing Elizabeth had figured out who they were, muttered under his breath and took off.
“Ruben!” Kendra ran after him.
Tristan’s eyes grew round as saucers. “You know them?”
“Not the children per se. Our family is familiar with the Renaud ilk.”
He rubbed his nose. “What does ilk mean?”
“Unpleasant people,” Morgan explained.
Brett placed a light hand on his son’s shoulder. “Don’t let them get you down. They mentioned your lucky arrowhead; the one Harlow gave you.”
“They saw it on my backpack and started making fun of it,” Tristan said. “I told them Harlow gave it to me. They said I was lying.”
“You told them Harlow Wynn gave it to you and they called you a liar?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yeah. And then Ruben told some of the older kids. They make fun of me, saying I’m lying and making it up.”
Morgan could feel the tips of her ears burn at how her nephew had innocently placed a target on his back.
Not only did he have a mark against him because of who he was, but claiming to know a famous person, not to mention someone of Harlow Wynn’s caliber, was backfiring, making him even more unpopular.
“We know you aren’t. The important thing is that you know the truth. ”
“I guess I shouldn’t have said anything. I hope no one tries to steal it.” Tristan glumly climbed into the back seat and shut the door.
“I have half a mind to find out where those troublemakers live and chat with their parents,” Brett said.
“Do you think it would help?” Morgan asked.
“Not one iota,” Elizabeth said. “In fact, it might make things even worse.”
The parking lot had cleared by the time the Eastons left. Morgan hadn’t even shifted into drive when her grandmother and Burnie left them in the dust, flying out of the parking lot, barely stopping at the sign and barreling around the corner.
“She drives fast,” Tristan said.
“Yes, she does. Too fast,” Brett sighed. “We call that a lead foot.”
“One of these days she’s going to get a ticket for driving too fast,” Morgan said. “Or reckless driving. Maybe both.”
“A ticket should slow her roll,” her brother joked.
“Do you think so?”
Brett thought about it. “Nah. I think she’s going to drive fast until Burnie’s wheels fall off.”
By the time they arrived at the deli restaurant downtown, Elizabeth had already parked, exited, and gone inside. They found her seated in a corner booth.
“What took you so long?” she teased.
“We had to wait for the plume of dust to clear before I could see where I was going,” Morgan laughed. “Brett and I are making bets on how much longer it will be before you get a ticket.”
An unreadable look crossed Elizabeth’s face. It quickly vanished.
“You’ve already been pulled over?” Brett guessed.
“Maybe.”
“Did you get a ticket?”
The server arrived before Elizabeth could answer. She took their drink orders and left.
“Well?”
“I refuse to answer,” their grandmother primly replied. “Back to Tristan’s tormentors. We need to figure out a way to convince them to knock it off.”
“Whatever we do, we risk having it backfire and making things even worse for him.”
“Can we please not talk about it?” The boy put his head in his hands.
“Subject closed.” Brett mentioned taking Tristan to Toronto to give him a tour of Easton Holdings’ offices and suggested an overnight stay at the family’s penthouse apartment.
The boy promptly perked up, peppering his father with a round of questions. “When can we go?”
“How about next weekend?”
“Yippee. Thanks, Brett. I’ve never been to Toronto.”
“It’s a big city.” While he talked, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “I have a friend who has season passes to the Toronto Maple Leafs’ games. Would you like to see a hockey game?”
“For real?” Tristan whooped loudly. “Yes, please.”
“Done. We’ll take in a hockey game while we’re there.”
The drinks arrived, and with orders taken, Tristan talked nonstop about going to Toronto, seeing the city, and hanging out with Brett. All thoughts of being picked on and singled out were long forgotten.
Lunch arrived hot and fresh, and Morgan gobbled hers up, having skipped breakfast to help her nephew pack up his project.
After the meal ended, the family gathered on the sidewalk. “I need to head over to chat with the vlogger guests.” During lunch, Morgan told the others what had happened, how she and Wyatt caught Tiff and Austin sneaking into the attic.
“I agree about not rewarding bad behavior, but I also understand your position. It sounds as if they have a large following and could easily paint you and Locke Pointe in a negative light,” Elizabeth said.
“Which is what I was thinking. Greg is adding a deadbolt and keypad entry, which should help if, or should I say when, someone tries sneaking up there again.”
“It would be tempting, booking the main suite and knowing about the secret entrance to the attic, especially if I had a popular YouTube channel and my business was to make videos about cool finds,” Brett said.
“I can see their side, which is why I’m making lemonade out of lemons.”
Tristan began fidgeting, his sign he was ready to leave.
Brett held up the bag of food, a sandwich and soup he’d ordered for Quinn, seeing how she was stuck working at the gallery. “I want to drop this off for Quinn.”
Morgan consulted her watch. “I have a minute to swing by there.”
Elizabeth offered to take her great-grandson to Easton Estate while Morgan and Brett stopped by the gallery to deliver the food.
Splitting up, the siblings climbed into her SUV for the half-block drive to the art gallery. Exiting the vehicle, Morgan noticed her standing at the counter. A man, close to their same age if she had to guess, stood on the other side.
She leaned in and said something. The man tipped his head back and laughed. The scene looked…cozy, as if the two were close friends.
Morgan shot her brother a furtive side glance, noticing how his jaw tightened. “I wonder who Quinn is talking to.”
“I don’t know, but I plan to find out.”