“And what do the reports say?”
“I’ll need time to read through everything, but here’s one,” he says, picking an example. “A pickling plant was on the brink of bankruptcy before the Griffins stepped in. It was too far gone to save the business, but they retrained the staff and installed new equipment, and now it’s a major supplier for their whiskey production. Apparently, the distillery has become the biggest employer in the town and has attracted more businesses to the area.”
“But did the Griffins do that, or has Mace hacked into the report and changed a few names?”
“I’ll need to do some more digging. It could be a long night,” Strider says above the click-click of his mouse as he sets to work. “But if you want my advice, don’t let any of this sway you. You got this far on your own.”
“No, I got this far with you,” I remind him. “And I don’t intend to take Reid up on his offer. If Ilya’s spies are watching, I can’t have them wondering what I’m doing talking to a Griffin. Ilya needs to think he can trust me.”
After leaving Strider to his research, my steps slow and I look back. Reid’s SUV has disappeared, but I imagine he’s still lurking somewhere. I’ve left my Jeep at the guesthouse so I can have a drink at Clara’s, but it might be a mistake walking home alone later. I don’t feel safe anymore.
But damn, I need a drink. And if I go back for my car, I stand more chance of running into Reid again. I keep walking. I have a gun. I’ll be fine.
Clara and I spend the evening chatting about nothing much, and it’s lovely. She doesn’t tell me what it’s like to be a widow at twenty-six, and I don’t mention what it was like growing up with a single-mom who was often too high, ortoo low to remember to take care of her two daughters. We talk instead about our favorite Disney movies and our first crushes.
“What are you going to do when Piper starts dating?” I ask, curled up in a corner of her couch, the last of the wine in my glass. From the fogginess in my head, I’d say I’ve had more than my fair share of the bottle.
Clara’s at the other end of the couch, and her eyes widen in horror as she draws my gaze to the sleeping child in her lap. Piper had gone to bed hours ago, but our laughter had woken her up. “She’s four years old. Still a baby,” she says. “And she’s going to stay a baby for as long as is humanly possible.”
I smile woozily. “You’re a good mom.”
Clara strokes Piper’s dark brown curls. “I try to be,” she says. I can see the shadow of pain settling over her features, but in a blink, her smile returns. “No boyfriends until she’s at least twenty-five.”
“I’m twenty-five, and I’d say make the ban indefinite. I’m done with men ruining my life.”
“They do have a habit of breaking your heart,” Clara says, her voice almost a whisper.
I’m about to add that sometimes they simply break you, but I’m not so drunk that I’ve forgotten I’m talking to a widow. I change the subject. Sort of.
“Do you think Barrett’s forgiven me yet for inviting Reid Griffin into his fancy, new home?”
Clara’s worked for our boss a little longer than I, and has a much better working relationship. Barrett’s been short with me lately, but deservedly so. My mind isn’t on the job. It was never on the job.
“He knows you’re just another victim of their wicked vendetta.”
I don’t like the word victim, but I shrug it off. “Has Barrett ever told you why they hate him so much?”
“He says it’s been like that since they were kids,” Clara replies. “They’ve always wanted what he had.”
“Like a mom?” I ask, standing up for the Griffins yet again. I can’t seem to help myself. “From what I hear, Alice Emerson left three young boys to be raised by their dad. It was bound to have an effect on them.”
“Don’t fall into the trap of feeling sorry for them, Quinn,” Clara warns as if Strider had handed her the script. “Ash Griffin and his brothers may have had consciences once, but they built their empire on dirty money. They can try to justify their actions, but there’s no excuse for how far they’ve fallen. You only have to look at the extremes they’ve gone to just to hurt Barrett. They’re utterly ruthless.”
From the way her voice cracks, I know she’s talking about the fire, so I keep quiet.
“Barrett felt so guilty after Ethan died. Stupidly, he blamed himself,” she says. “And he didn’t have to offer me the housekeeper job. But if he hadn’t, I’d be homeless right now. Ethan left a lot of debts.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
I rub my temple. Clara’s opinion of Barrett and the Griffins would have matched my own a week ago, but now I’m not so sure. What is Reid doing to me? Why am I questioning what I once took as fact?
“I’m glad you threw Reid out of the house,” Clara continues as she combs Piper’s hair with her fingers. “Hopefully the Griffins will know to stay away from us now.”
My cheeks flush. I haven’t told Clara that he’s back in town. She’s going to find out about our very public fight soon enough, but if I tell her tonight, she won’t letme walk home alone. I don’t need someone pointing out my stupidity. I already know it’s a bad idea.
When I stand up, I’m not as unsteady on my feet as I feared. “I should go.”
Clara goes to slide Piper off her lap, but I stop her.
