“What if you’re worrying for nothing?” I plucked the waffle from the toaster and shoved it in her hand. “Maybe he just doesn’t want you worrying about something neither of you can change and he wishes he could take back?”
A door opened upstairs. Mrs. Haggerty came down, wearing abrightly colored coordinated knit set and her big orthopedic shoes. She seemed a little less dour. Her gloom from the day before apparently had lifted, and I hoped that meant she had finally heard from her grandson.
She pinched the wire frames of her glasses, squinting through the narrow lenses at me as she took in my sleep-disheveled hair and wrinkled shirt. “Are you ill?”
“No.”
“Good. Then I’d like two eggs, poached, with a slice of wheat toast. And some orange juice,” she added, puttering toward the table.
“And that’s my cue to go,” Vero said under her breath, taking her coffee and waffle upstairs with her as the children came bursting into the kitchen. Delia’s hair was wet and her feet were bare. Zach was still wearing his pajamas.
“What’s this?” Mrs. Haggerty asked, frowning at Delia as the children zipped past her and opened the pantry. “It’s Monday. Why aren’t you at school?”
“I’m not allowed,” Delia said, putting a foot up on a shelf so she could reach the fruit snacks for Zach. “I got in trouble for hitting a boy because he pulled my hair, and I have to stay home for two whole weeks.”
“Two weeks!” Mrs. Haggerty tsked. “You go right upstairs, young lady, and get ready for school.”
Delia blinked at the woman.
So did I. “Mrs. Haggerty, Delia was suspended. She’ll be staying home with us today.”
“My hearing is just fine,” Mrs. Haggerty said stubbornly. “The girl was perfectly clear, but this is unacceptable. A young woman’s education should never be hindered by the actions of a poorlybehaved boy. Shame on that school. I should call the principal and give them a piece of my mind. Your daughterwillbe attending class today. Only she’ll be doing it here with me.”
I shook my head, wondering ifmyhearing was the problem. “With… you?”
“I’m perfectly qualified, if that’s your concern. You have writing implements and notebooks, I presume?”
“Yes… but—”
“Then we’ll get started right after I have my breakfast. Let’s get on with it!” Mrs. Haggerty clapped her hands impatiently. Delia raced upstairs to finish getting dressed, with Zach in hot pursuit.
I sighed and set a pan on the stove. If nothing else, it would keep them both busy for a while. Maybe I could get a few loads of laundry done and sneak in a few hours of work. I took out the eggs, grabbed a tube of orange concentrate from the freezer, and dropped a dollop of butter in the pan while Mrs. Haggerty settled in at my kitchen table to wait for her meal. She set her massive cell phone in front of her and turned up the volume as loud as it would go.
… a new person of interest in the Gilford Dupree murder investigation. Steven Donovan of South Riding, owner of Rolling Green Sod and Tree Farm and former resident of the house located directly across the street from the property where the body was found, has been detained by Loudoun County police for questioning. According to an anonymous source, Donovan had been secretly involved with Penelope Dupree, the victim’s wife…
I rushed to the table, frantically turning down the volume on her phone, hoping the children hadn’t heard any of it. Max was on the screen, detailing what they had uncovered about Steven and Penny’s affair.
The smell of burning butter shook me from the phone. I droppedit on the table, leaping to the stove to slam a lid on the smoking pan. I turned down the heat, wiped out the blackened butter, and started Mrs. Haggerty’s breakfast over.
“I always said that man was worthless,” she grumbled.
“That’s none of your business,” I said, cracking her egg hard enough to leave a little shell in it.
“It was everyone’s business, the way he paraded his affairs around, always traipsing that real estate woman in and out of your house. He certainly wasn’t quiet about it.”
I gritted my teeth as I plucked two slices of singed bread from the toaster.
“I hope they lock him up. You and those children would be better off for it.”
I snapped off the stove, scraped her egg and toast onto her plate, and dropped it in front of her.
Nick was right. Mrs. Haggerty needed to go. Today.
I carried her phone upstairs with me to Vero’s room and banged on the door. Vero opened it, one eyebrow raised as she gestured for me to come in. She sipped her coffee while I dialed the number Brendan had left me. If he wouldn’t answer my calls, maybe he would answer his grandmother’s.
Brendan’s phone rang no less than a dozen times. I let out a frustrated growl. “His voice mail still isn’t picking up.”
“He’s probably avoiding her,” Vero said. “The woman’s a royal pain in the ass. I wouldn’t blame the guy for wanting to get as far away from her as possible.”
