A glimmer of hope lit inside me as I remembered it was Sunday.
“Good morning,” I said, trying to sound chipper. Mrs. Haggerty returned my greeting with a quiet grunt. “Any word from Brendan? He did say he would pick you up by Sunday. And… well, it’s Sunday,” I reminded her. “Did he mention what time he might be coming?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t heard from him,” she said tersely.
“Not at all?” That didn’t bode well. It was one thing not to return my calls, but entirely another not to call his grandmother.
“Brendan’s got enough to worry about. He doesn’t need to be concerning himself with me.”
“Don’t you want to know when your house will be fixed? I haven’t seen a single contractor come out to take a look.”
“My grandson said that he would handle it, and he will on his own time.” She snapped to the next page of her newspaper, making it clear this conversation was over. Which would have been fine if Brendan’s time wasn’t also cutting into mine.
My phone vibrated and my mother’s name flashed on the screen. My stomach bottomed out and I hurried to answer it. “Hey, Mom. Are the kids okay?”
“Everything is fine. The children are doing great,” she reassured me. “But your father is contemplating duct tape to keep Zach’s pants on.”
I laughed, wondering if that had been his idea or Vero’s. “Thanks for taking them last night. How’s Delia handling everything?” I said in a low voice, carrying my phone into the next room.
“She’s doing better today. I hope it’s okay that I told her a little fib. She asked what would happen to her father, and I didn’t know what to say. I told her he was being suspended and he would only be gone a few days. Your sister says they can’t hold him much longer if they’re not pressing charges. What does Nick think?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him today.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve had a lot going on.”
“Georgia says you two are fighting.”
“Georgia needs to keep her mouth shut.”
My mother sighed. “You can’t let whatever is happening with Steven interfere with your relationship, Finlay. You and Nicholas have a good thing going.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you pushing him away?”
“I’m not pushing him away,” I said bitterly. I was keeping him at arm’s length. That wasn’t the same thing.
“Promise me you’ll call him. If you want me to keep the kids an extra night, I can bring them home tomorrow morning on my way to water aerobics. Delia’s not going to school anyway.”
“No, it’s okay,” I insisted, rubbing my eyes. “Vero and I have everything under control. I’ll come over tonight and get the kids before bedtime. I just have something I need to do first.”
Like figuring out what Penny Dupree was up to.
I squinted through the windshield of my minivan just after sunset. “This is never going to work.” Vero and I had parked nearly a block away from Penny Dupree’s house, and even with the binoculars, I couldn’t see a damn thing through her windows. They were all dark, except for a dimly lit room on the main floor. “She probably isn’t even home. Her car isn’t in the driveway.”
“It’s probably in the garage.” Vero tugged on her wig. Which was actuallymywig. Forced to decide between the ash-blond 1970s winged monstrosity she’d worn under her ski mask last night or the tangled blond wig scarf in my office desk drawer, the wig scarf had seemed like the more sensible choice. She smoothed it in place, thenpulled down her visor to check her lipstick in the mirror. “How do I look?”
“No wonder I got kicked out of Panera.”
“Hardy-har,” she said, snapping her mirror closed. “It’s either this or Farrah Fawcett.” She slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses.
“It’s dark outside. How are you going to see anything in those things?”
“Would you rather Penny see my face?”
“Where’s your voice recorder?” I asked.
