Zane
Lucas froze,his deadly stare focused on Mom.
I halted mid-stride.
Mom stood her ground. “We use plates and silverware in this house, young man.”
The room went silent, everyone waiting breathlessly to see what would come next. No man in this room was brave enough to challenge Lucas, but my mom had just called him out.
She put a fresh pancake on his plate. “Try again.” She added a syrupy, “Please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucas answered. “I’ll remember that.”
Crisis averted.I could breathe again.
“And we sit at the table,” Terry joked. That earned a snicker or two.
Lucas took the chair next to Yates, who seemed oblivious and kept eating. “These are great. I’ll take another.”
I finally relaxed when Lucas cut a piece and declared the food excellent.
The furtive looks around the room reverted to the unspoken question—why was the stranger here?
After all our appetites had been quenched, Lucas stood. “Mrs. M, that was a great breakfast. Now, with your leave, we have work to do. Jordy, let’s set up in the living room.”
Mom nodded her acknowledgment. “Anytime, young man.”
The group filed in after Jordy, bringing chairs with them from the kitchen area.
I stayed behind for a moment with Mom.
Peyton clung to my side. “That was scary.”
I nodded and then confronted my mother. “That was my boss you whacked,” I whispered. I couldn’t believe she’d done that.
“It don’t matter. Nobody eats with their fingers in my kitchen.”
I shook my head. I might be renting the house, but when she was cooking, it became her kitchen.
Mom pointed out the window to the backyard. “Your bird feeder is empty.”
“Later.” I had more pressing things than that.
“Sure. Let the poor birds starve.” Mom scoffed.
“They won’t starve. I’ll get to it.”
She huffed, but took off her apron, picked up her purse, and marched to the living room. “It was nice meeting you all. I’ll be on my way so you can have your secret agent meeting.”
A chorus of goodbyes followed.
“Love you.” I kissed her goodbye, and Peyton and I joined the others in the living room as the door closed behind her.
Jordy fiddled with his computer and connected to my television, posting a surveillance photo on the screen.
Lucas stood. “Jordy has been running searches for our guy based on what little we know about him?—”
“That’s not him,” Peyton said, pointing at the screen.
