Chapter 10
CALISTA
How typical of men to leave the housework to women.
“Not a single dish has been washed since Sylvie Hoffmann died.” Clicking my tongue, I glance down at Ronan, “It’s been three years and not one of those men have been able to figure out how to turn on the sink. Terribly disappointing, don’t you think?”
My baby whines in agreement, his head bowed as the male species lets us down yet again.
Leaning back against the tree, I study the doll house that doubles as a cottage. It’s a shabby looking thing, all yellow hues and pathetic drawings some maid must have drawn out of sheer boredom or desperation.
God knows cleaning after seven men would have pushed me over the edge.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time I made it back home, grabbed Ronan and offered him the piece of material I’d stolen from Christopher’s shirt. The gash I’d left on his arm had made a nice little trail for my brilliant boy, and within thirty minutes, we found ourselves in front of the poorest household in Wolf Hollow.
And no Brit in sight.
“It could really use a new coat of paint.” Grimacing at the flowers taking over the roof, I slip an earbud under my hair, “And a whole new exterior for that matter.”
Pressing his body against my leg, Ronan waits patiently for me to plan out our next move. He’s such a loving creature, always offering physical touch and acts of service to remind me of his unwavering loyalty.
If only all men came with such qualities.
“Is there a reason you only call me at the most inconvenient time?”
A smile breaks free, “My dear Marlin. What could you possibly be doing that is more important than answering my call?”
“Convincing my mother to take a business trip. One that she is not too pleased to be taking.”
A muffled scream echoes down the line and a snicker falls from my mouth.
“I take it the eels have come out to play?”
“The eels are feeding her temper and her latest client seems to be feeding the eels.” A pause, anotherscream, “Or maybe this is a new one. They tend to look the same by the time they’re tossed in the fish tank.”
The Sea Witch is a particular woman, a unique asset my mother acquired years ago. She is undoubtedly the best interrogator in town, although her methods tend to be rather extreme.
To put it lightly.
“Tell her a bonus is on the horizon and if she plays her cards right, that horizon might not be too far out of sight.”
“Elusive answers do not fare well in this household.” He lets out an exasperated sigh, “Although you would think she would be used to them by now.”
“Just ensure she’s gone by the end of next week.” Tilting my head, I watch a shadow flicker past the filthy window, “Christopher has begun preparations. It’s about time we did the same.”
“What kind of preparations?”
“The kind that comes from the Hoffmann household.” Spying the familiar outline of floppy hats, I purse my lips, “Any ideas on what he plans to do next?”
“He would have to be desperate to recruit the Hoffmann brothers as part of his crew.”
“Because of their height?”
“Their short stature would be quite advantageous in that situation. I was referring to their personalities.” He makes a disgusted sound, “No strategy is safe from volatile mood swings. Best to avoid the confrontation altogether.”
“You would know.”
Marlin ignores my taunt.
