The brothers shuffled inside, each taking their turn to introduce themselves to Hailey.
“I’m your Uncle Dale,” said the first with a hint of shame as he waddled past and into the kitchen.
“Hailey!” said the next, and he hugged Hailey so tight, her feet came off the floor. He was amazingly strong for a geezer. He patted his chest. “I’m Skeet. You’ll remember we met at your parents’ funeral.”
“Of course,” said Hailey, not wanting to admit she didn’t really recognize any of them.
Pix shook his hand. “What’s the story, horse? Any luck with your boy?” Pix asked him, and Skeet shook his head.
Hailey motioned the third brother in, who simply said, “Johnny,” and pecked her on the cheek before turning to Uncle Pix.
“Lorelei sends her love,” he said, and Pix grumbled.
The brothers chuckled, and before Hailey could ask, Pix blurted, “A wretched hag!”
Wimp came in last and folded Hailey into a gentle hug, patting her twice on the back.
Hailey closed the door and followed them into the kitchen where Pix was pouring cups of coffee and handing them around. When he got to Dale, who was still wrapped in his rug and using both hands to hold it closed, Pix shook his head.
“Well, go sort yerself out,” Pix ordered. “Yeh look like a fool in a rug.” He pointed to the laundry room.
Moments later, Dale emerged, fully clothed and motioning for coffee.
The brothers stood around the kitchen sipping from their mugs while Pix filled them in on Holly’s disappearance. Hailey didn’t care to hear the details again, so she left them to it, closing her bedroom door quietly behind her.
From her room, she heard a sharp knock at the front door, and a muffled Uncle Pix offered the greeting he reserved for all uninvited guests.
“Who are yeh?” he growled.
Hailey shook her head and went back to her internet search. Just as she found what she was looking for, Uncle Pix stuck his head inside her room.
“May I come in?”
“Sure,” said Hailey, untroubled by his tip-toeing. She looked up in time to see his lips press together and his eyes well.
“She’ll need one of these when she gets back,” said Hailey simply. She pointed to the screen and scanned the specs on a prosthetic foot with hydraulics.
“Alright, Hailey.” Pix’s voice was shaky. “The detective is here, dear—”
“Did they find her?” Hailey said, jumping up.
“No, dear. They haven’t found shite,” he huffed, and Hailey frowned, turning back to her screen. “But he wondered if you would talk to him and go and look at some photos at the department.”
“Just a second,” she said, waving him off as she studied a carbon fiber model. “I’m ordering information on this one now.” She turned her head slightly as she read. “It’s designed for dancers, and it takes four weeks to make. She’ll have to have it fitted…” She looked up at Uncle Pix matter-of-factly. “Holly will want to start dancing right away when she gets home.”
Pix nodded, his chin trembling, and he left her to her project, closing the door quietly behind him.
Hailey tapped the keyboard, nodded triumphantly, and joined the crowd in the kitchen, where a tall, broad-shouldered man, sporting a sandy blond flattop and wearing a suit and a badge stood in the middle of the brothers, who formed a half circle around him and took turns pelting him with questions. Except for Wimp, who stood quietly with his coffee, looking thoughtfully from brother to detective to brother and back again.
Hailey slid into the kitchen unnoticed and stood silently against the counter, safely out of the line of fire as the conversation heated up.
“I can assure you, Mr. Sullivan,” said the badge in a loud, slow voice, “we will follow up on every lead that comes in.”
Hailey cringed as her uncles exploded.
“Yeh feckin' eejit!” Johnny bellowed over everyone, his face red with rage. “You wouldn’t know a feckin' lead if it bit yeh on yer arrogant arse,ya—”
Uncle Pix clapped him on the shoulder and took over in a more civilized but equally aggressive tone. “Detective Toll,” he said, pushing his sleeves up as he moved into the man’s personal space. “We want some information is all. Who are you lookin’ at for starters?”
