“Isn’t a wedding cake all about the design anyway?” Booker asked.
“Yes, and that’s probably her plan,” Galen said. “She’ll let us pick the flavors and then come in with some ridiculously over-the-top design that we hate but feel the need to allow because she compromised on the flavor.”
“Really, Galen,” Marjory scolded as she returned with several takeout bags. “You make me sound like a supervillain.”
“You’re Poison Marjory,” Galen replied. “Instead of poison kisses you hand out judgmental glares.”
Marjory didn’t actually look bothered by the suggestion. She opened the first container. “Pancakes and bacon.”She handed it to Galen before looking in another. “Pancakes with sausage links.” She handed that to Booker.
How had she known that Booker was going to be here for breakfast?
“One avocado toast,” she said as she put the container in front of an empty chair. “That leaves eggs, hash browns, toast, and bacon for you.” She handed me the last container and smiled. “Over-medium on your eggs, correct?”
I nodded, still running multiple possibilities through my head. She was definitely up to something. “Thank you.” I accepted the container from her.
“Hold up.” Galen hadn’t dug into his breakfast yet. He was too busy looking his mother up and down. “Did you seriously just feed me cake before breakfast and act like it’s normal?”
“Is there something wrong with the cake?” Marjory asked.
“The cake was great. You once told me that eating sugar before noon would give me hemorrhoids.”
Booker snorted. “I remember that. We didn’t know what they were and she showed us photos.”
“If left to your own devices, you two would’ve done nothing but eat sugar,” Marjory argued. “I had to tell you something and it had to frighten you. You’ll find, when you and Hadley have a little one of your own, that white lies don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. It’s easier to say that the oven is the Devil’s playpen and not to open it than it is to explain how hot things work.”
That sounded weird. Kind of pragmatic, but weird. I glanced at Galen. He merely shrugged. Then I remembered the sausage links.
“Why did you have breakfast ready for Booker?” I asked as I dipped my toast in egg yolk.
Marjory slid me a curious look out of the corner of her eye. “Because it would have been rude for me to feed you and Galen but not him.”
“Manners are important,” I agreed. “How did you know to get him breakfast?”
Galen froze with a forkful of pancakes halfway to his mouth. “Crap,” he muttered. “How is it that I’m the sheriff and you out-sheriffed me?”
I smirked. “Your mother discombobulated you with cake for breakfast. I’m pretty sure that was a deliberate move.” I patted his knee under the table. “Don’t take it personally.”
Marjory slayed me with a glare. “I’m merely providing for my family.”
She was definitely up to something. I glanced over at Booker, who seemed entranced with his breakfast. “Did you just magically show up in time for breakfast?”
It was obvious he hated being put on the spot. He answered anyway. “No.” He didn’t meet my steady gaze. “Marjory texted and asked me to meet her here. She said it was important.”
I swung my eyes back to Marjory while continuing to stuff my face. Galen had given up eating altogether.
“Mother, now would be the time to tell us what you’re really up to,” Galen growled. “We have a long day ahead of us and we can’t deal with … whatever this is on top of everything else.”
Marjory was surprisingly calm in the face of her son’s annoyance. “You’ll have to deal with this,” she said in her matter-of-fact way. “I have information that will help you in your attempt to take down Declan Wilkes.”
Oh, well, here we go.I should have known she knew more than she was letting on.
“Excuse me?” Galen puffed himself out like a furious cat.
“I had planned on delivering this information after breakfast. However, I know you — that stubborn streak of yours is my least favorite thing you inherited from your father — I guess now is the time to tell.”
Galen gripped his fork so tightly I worried he was about to stab his mother with it.
“I’ll only tell you if you eat,” Marjory warned. She remained prim as she nibbled her avocado toast.
