As I rounded the corner, a shout of alarm erupted from under the sink. Steven sat up fast, smacking his head against the bottom of the drain as he reached protectively for his groin. Zach was climbing between his thighs, squealing with delight at the handful of Cheerios Vero had poured over Steven’s crotch. Steven lifted our son aside as he extricated himself from the cabinet, livid and dripping. Vero sat on the counter beside the running sink, wearing a remorseless grin. She shoveled a handful of Cheerios into her mouth as water flowed through the opening in the drain and the children stomped gleefully in the fresh puddles on the floor.
Every towel in the kitchen was soaked. I pulled the dishrag off the handle on the stove and handed it to Steven. Slowly, he wiped sink water from his face. A vein bulged in his temple, his skin an apoplectic shade of red as he bent over his knees.
“Vero, why don’t you go take the kids upstairs to dry off,” I suggested. “I’ll help Steven finish up here.” I was certain there would be a murder in my house if she and Steven were in the same room for one more minute. Steven glared at her as she jumped off the counter and led the children from the kitchen.
“Sorry about that,” I said, rushing to turn off the faucet.
Steven straightened with a groan, unfurling his hand and pressing its contents into mine. “This was stuck in your trap. Looks like a SIM card from a cell phone.” I stared down at the mangled SIM card Vero and I had dropped into the garbage disposal last month.
“Wow, that’s strange,” I said, tucking it away with a nervous laugh as Steven kicked aside a pile of sodden towels and eased back under the cabinet. “I wonder how that got in there.”
“Probably your damn babysitter. She’s going to destroy your disposal dumping that kind of stuff down there. And if she does, I’mnot coming back to fix it.” I held the flashlight for him as he wrapped the disconnected pieces of the drain in purple tape and threaded them back together. “That girl’s a menace. She’s irresponsible, Finn.”
“She’s not irresponsible. She’s a big help to me and she’s amazing with the kids.”
“Case in point,” he argued, gesturing to the counter above his head, “she shouldn’t be storing all these cleaning supplies together.”
“We have childproof locks on all the cabinets.” He should have known, since he was the one who’d installed them.
“At the very least, you should have a decent fire extinguisher under here. That oven cleaner is nasty stuff. You’ll start a house fire if you’re not careful.”
I snapped off the flashlight as he climbed out from under my sink. “You’re seriously going to lecture me about fire safety right now?”
He dumped his tools in his bag, muttering my sister’s name like a swear. “Your sister told you, didn’t she?” I fixed him with a sharp look. “It’s nowhere near as bad as she probably made it sound. It was probably just some delinquent kids, sneaking around on an empty farm and screwing around with matches. The only reason the police are looking into it is because the insurance company won’t process a claim unless I file a report.”
“Fine. But until we know for certain that fire wasn’t targeted at you, I’m sure we can both agree that the kids will be safer at my house.”
“My house is perfectly safe!”
“Really? Are you sure? Because someone doused your trailer in accelerant and tossed a Molotov cocktail through the window at your couch!” I snapped my mouth shut. The children’s bedroom door shut quietly upstairs, a floorboard squeaking on the top step where Vero was probably listening.
Steven’s eyes narrowed. “The cops didn’t say anything about accelerant. Did Georgia tell you that?”
“She called me first thing this morning. Which is more than I can say for you.” Steven and Georgia hated each other. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t compare notes.
“If it makes you feel better, I have an appointment with the security monitoring company today. In a couple of hours, I’ll know who’s responsible for that fire, and this will all be over anyway. Your sister has no business getting involved.”
“She’s theiraunt,Steven. And she has serious reservations about letting the kids spend the night at your house.”
“She’s not even a parent!”
“No, she’s a cop! And I trust her judgment on this! So either you and I can handle this between the two of us, or I can ask my attorney to get involved.”
His laugh was cutting. “Who? The kid in the Jeep?”
“No, Steven. The one I will hire and pay to deliver a court order to Guy, informing him that there was an attempt made on your life and he is to suspend all visitation until this is sorted out.”
“Fine!” He snatched up his tools and stormed from the kitchen. “Have it your way. But you’re overreacting.” He shoved his arms in the sleeves of his coat and jerked open the door. “No one was trying to kill me, Finn. The only person who hates me that much is you.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he slammed the door behind him.
I flipped the lock and rested my head against the frame as Vero padded down the stairs. “What did you find on his phone?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said, following her into the kitchen. She handed me a broom. With a weary sigh, I swept the soggy Cheerios off the floor. “Just a lot of calls to and from Bree that ended the week he laid her off. And one call to her house last week. Probably a drunkenattempt at a booty call,” I said, remembering how lost and alone he’d looked, standing in my driveway on Thanksgiving night. “He must have deleted any records of the mystery woman’s calls.”
“Then we’re back to square one,” Vero said, scooping up an armful of sopping towels and dropping them into a laundry basket.
I dumped the Cheerios into the trash can as Vero knelt to return the cleaning chemicals to their place under the cabinet. “There has to be something we overlooked in his trailer. Did you find any leads in Steven’s books?”
