“Where are Harper and Grace?” she asked impatiently, folding her arms over the big red lips printed on her shirt.
Cara yanked her hand to her chest and rubbed her palm. “They’re still out of town working in New Orleans. You’d know that if you actually showed up to our meetings.”
Well, if that news didn’t bite a big donkey butt. Those two officially couldn’t be persuaded by Quinn’s manipulative plan if they weren’t even in town. There would be another time for them. “Clarence finally wore me down but refuses to shimmer out of my life.”
Both of her sisters’ eyes widened, and they remained speechless. Quinn wasn’t surprised by their reaction. It took a lot to break her resolve. She’d ignored him for a solid month.
Last night, he’d breached her personal sanctuary, entering her bathroom during shower karaoke.
Quinn slipped her fingers into her pocket and slid out the reason for his constant badgering. A heart-shaped emerald, the size of her fist, dangled from a sturdy gold chain. The gem remained freezing to the touch, as if it had been hidden in the gallon carton of chunky monkey in her freezer instead of in a metal box buried next to Clarence’s headstone.
“Oh my God.” Cara lifted the heart into her palms. “This is real.”
“As real as my breast,” Quinn proudly announced after hours of research online, not taking Clarence at his word. She should have. It would have saved her time. “It’s an heirloom piece that belongs to the Menzie clan in Scotland.”
Cara yanked back her hand and pointed an accusing finger at the gem. “That thing is cursed. You need to put it back where you found it.”
“And risk Clarence becoming a permanent haunt in my life?” Quinn shook her head vehemently. “No can do, Cara. You must be smoking some goodshit, and I’m kind of offended you aren’t sharing, but there is no way in hell that opera-singing wannabe is keeping me up at night for the rest of my life. Have you ever heard a Scottish ghost try opera?” Quinn’s entire body cringed at the memory of last night’s performance. The sound was as loud and annoying as a foghorn mating with a tornado siren.
“Maybe you should listen to her,” Becca suggested.
Bless her heart. She was still so young and naïve. “My research indicated that there are two clans still feuding over this little gem, Becca. Aren’t you the one who cares about world peace and love? I thought for sure that you’d be on my side.”
“We’re not going, and you shouldn’t either. I won’t touch that thing again, and Becca….she isn’t prepared enough to deal with the spirits in Scotland.” Cara slipped her arm around Becca’s as if Quinn was about to play a game of tug of war. The thought had crossed her mind.
Traitors. Quinn should be fuming and seeing red, but she was as proud of her baby sisters showing their claws like a mother bird watching her babies take flight.
“If that’s how you want to be, then fine.” Quinn waved the fortune in her hand. “If there’s any commission, then I’mkeeping it, but regardless, this is my one shot to ditch Clarence, so I’m out of here.” She spun in her Converses and stalked away. “And I’m taking one of Daddy’s jets and charging it to the company.” No way in hell would she be tortured in cramped spaces with crying babies or worse. She had hours of sleep to make up for, thanks to Clarence. Get there, give them the jewelry, and then hightail it home and pray that Clarence shimmered from sight.
Chapter Two
A gushof cold air blew up Quinn’s skirt as she exited the plane. It reminded her of the famous picture of Marilyn Monroe, only her legs weren’t as slim and she had a lot more junk in her trunk. Other than that, they were practically twins from the neck down. Quinn rubbed her bare arms, trying to restore blood flow. Her sister’s wool parka wasn’t so funny now.
Johnny Smith, the family pilot, stepped out of the cockpit. His normally tan face was pale and held a tinge of green. Beads of sweat didn’t just dot his brow, they ran down like ice cream in a small child’s hand in the Florida heat.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded seconds before launching his lunch over the stair railing. The white chunks and green liquid made her stomach roll. Chicken and split pea soup. The nice thing to do would have been to rub his back in comfort, but she wasn’t nice. Instead of getting closer, she stepped back and covered her mouth with her hand, trying to ignore the retching sounds. No, no, no, she wasn’t getting sick in some godforsaken foreign town that probably didn’t even have a real doctor.
“I must have had a reaction to the food,” Johnny said, leaning back inside the plane and grabbing a towel for his mouth.
Sure. He hadsomethingall right.
“You’re my ride home. We need to get you to bed and get you better.” Quinn shivered and took his arm to help him wobble down the stairs and into the private terminal. Her skirt fluttered against her skin, giving the ground crew a free peep of her big white moon and matching-color G-string. Pervs. At least her legs were tan. “You need sleep.”
Not to mention a gallon of mouthwash and a toothbrush.
Outside the empty terminal, an old white-haired man stood in front of the black Town Car holding a cardboard sign with Quinn’s last name scribbled in a child’s handwriting. The fine lines aroundhis mouth showed years of laughter. Warmth and knowledge sparkled in the depth of his blue eyes, the same shade as her favorite faded blue jeans.
“I’d like to check in at the hotel first please and then be taken to the Menzie castle.” She used her best southern charm. Johnny was no help, so she grabbed his bag and hers and helped load them both into the trunk while Johnny slipped inside the car.
“My name’s Angus. I’ll be your driver during your stay.”
Quinn shook his hand. “I’m Quinn Thatcher. It’s nice to meet you.” Her mother would be pleased she hadn’t rolled her eyes and just gotten in the car. Her mom was a true southern belle who had married into old money, but she’d never been one of those stuck-up snobs, like some of her chicken-legged friends. Her mom had taught her girls to be just as pleasing. Quinn’s pleasing side could use some work.
“Aye, what brings you to our fair town?”
“Business.” She smiled politely like her momma had taught her and had been just as vague as dear old dad when mom questioned him about his late-night drunken escapades.
