"I give scholarships to hockey players who can't afford equipment, ice time, coaching, you name it." Her voice rose, the Ice Queen showing emotion for the first time since I'd stepped inside the house. "Iloveyour girlfriend's skating program. Hell, I'd fund the entire damn thing just to spite that bastard Mouser. I can't believe he didn't bring this to me."
"I don't think he brought it to your father either."
She shook her head. "He didn't."
Charlotte leaned in. "And don't forget that Rob Cooper's numbered company owns three parcels in the development zone. He stands to make millions if the deal goes through as it's written now. He and Mouser have been in it together since day one."
Everleigh's face remained still. She pulled out her phone and made a call. "Tell Mr. Mouser to come see me."
The person must have asked when. Everleigh let out an exasperated sigh. "Right. Fucking. Now."
I looked around. "Should I leave?"
Everleigh pulled a tube of red lipstick from her handbag, applied it, then rested her feet on the coffee table. "No, you'll want to see this."
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. The woman who answered the door brought in a tray of coffee and some shortbread cookies. "Help yourself." Everleigh draped her arms wide across the back of the sofa.
Neither of us moved. We sat in silence until the knock came. Mouser walked in, brushing snow off his coat. He saw me and froze. "What's he doing here?"
"Sit," Everleigh said. Her tone was deep. That "sit" was an order.
Mouser obeyed, but he still had a smug look on his face. "If this is about the meeting, the locals were always going to scream."
Everleigh pushed off from the sofa and sauntered toward Mouser. "Maybe it's your turn to scream."
"Excuse me?" Mouser's face turned as white as the sofa.
"What's my mother's name?"
The lawyer's head jerked back like he was avoiding a slap. "Gloria."
"Good." Everleigh perched on the footstool in front of Mouser. "And what charity did my mother start years ago?"
"The Sam Strand." His voice was barely a mumble.
Everleigh stood and loomed above him. "Oh, so you do know about my dead mother's charity. The one that I run. The one that helps out kids, just like the little girls practicing for theirWizard of Ozskating exhibition."
"Everleigh, it was a business decision," Mouser said. "The margins would have—"
She interrupted him. Her voice was low and even, and really damn unnerving. "You made a deal with a councilman who has a financial stake in our project. That's fraud, Sidney. Not business."
She paused to pour herself a cup of coffee. The only sound in the room was the ticking clock and the tinkling of the spoon as she stirred in the cream. Everleigh picked up a piece of shortbread and took a bite, chewing while beads of sweat formed on Mouser's forehead.
"Give me your car keys."
Mouser tilted his head, but produced the Mercedes fob. She plucked it from his hand and slipped it in the pocket of her jeans. "Legal will be in touch about your severance."
"William won't like this."
"Mr. King doesn't do fraud. You're fired. Get the fuck out of my house."
"What? How am I supposed to get back to the hotel? It's freezing outside."
"Why don't you call your friend Rob for a ride. Or maybe I can get you both a free trip in a black-and-white."
He inhaled, then stood. "This isn't the last you've heard of me."
Everleigh snorted. "Original. Feed me a line I haven't heard one hundred times before."
