“What’s this?” she asked, snatching them from his fingers.
“You know that storage room over your cousin’s garage? I talked your cousin into renting it out to me. It’s not a storage room anymore.” He wagged his eyebrows at her. “Want to help me move in?”
“Do I have to carry anything?” she asked.
“Only the bed and whatever we pick up for dinner.”
“I’ll get my things.” Vero turned and hightailed it up the stairs. Two minutes later, she shuffled back down with her overnight bag slung over one shoulder. She turned to me as she dragged her boyfriend out of the house by way of the garage. “Text me when the old bat is out of here. You can sleep in my room. Don’t let her snoop,” she said, slamming the door behind them.
I pulled back the curtain in the foyer, watching through the window as Javi’s Camaro pulled out of the driveway. Vero’s Charger rolled out behind him, and I sighed, wishing I had the house to myself.
Mrs. Haggerty was staring out the living room window, ignoring whatever game show was playing on the TV when I came in to join her. She was unusually quiet, maybe a little melancholic. I wondered if she was watching her house, waiting for her porch light to turn on, or if she was hoping her grandson would come back and pick her up.
“Looks like it’s just the two of us for dinner,” I said over the television. “I have some leftover meatloaf if you’d like something to eat.”
She didn’t bother to acknowledge me.
“Suit yourself,” I said, turning back to the kitchen. I had been caring for two cranky children all day. I had no plans to dress, change, coddle, or feed anybody else.
“Children need discipline. And rules.” Mrs. Haggerty’s stern tone made me pause at the threshold. I turned around slowly, biting my tongue as she went on. “When I was your age, children knewwhat was expected of them. They knew the consequences. If you let those kids think they’re in charge, they’ll have no reason to listen to you.”
My doorbell rang and I was grateful for the excuse to discontinue the conversation. Mrs. Haggerty was the last person I would go to for parenting advice.
I opened the front door to find Cam standing on my porch. His close-cropped hair was just beginning to grow out, the soft brown edges peeking from under his beanie.
“Hey, Mrs. D,” he said, grinning like a fool.
I held the door open for him. Any company was better than being alone in the house with a glowering Mrs. Haggerty. “This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”
“I was just in the neighborhood.” Cam was unusually chipper for an eighteen-year-old high school dropout who lived with his grandmother and had recently quit being gainfully employed as a hacker for the Russian mob. I had first met Cameron four months ago, when I’d hired him to do some online sleuthing for me on the dark web. I’d been attempting to suss out the identity of a contract killer who was soliciting clients through a popular local women’s forum. It was in part thanks to Cam that Vero and I had been able to thwart the killer and shut the forum down. Call me crazy, but despite Cam’s faults he had a good heart, and I was pretty sure all he needed to straighten himself out was for someone to give him a chance. I was also pretty sure he was hungry.
He sniffed the air as he came inside and set down his heavy backpack. A tiny Chihuahua in a matching leather jacket trailed in behind him.
“Who’s this?” I asked.
“Arnold Schwarzenegger.” Cam handed me the dog’s leash so hecould strip off his jacket and hang it on the coatrack. He left the dog’s jacket on, which was probably for the best. The tiny thing hardly had enough body fat to keep warm. For that matter, neither did Cam. He had the rangy frame of a growing boy who was accustomed to having to scrape for his meals, and while Cam adored his grandmother, I got the sense he was more her caretaker than she was his guardian. Sometimes, I think he wasn’t so much hungry as he just needed someone to treat him like the kid he hadn’t had the luxury of being.
Cam patted the Chihuahua’s head. “I found the little guy at the shelter last week. He isn’t as cool as Kevin Bacon… yet,” he added, picking up the dog before it could lift its leg on my foot. “He just needs a little training. Right, Arnold? Don’t piss on the nice lady’s leg or she won’t let us stay for dinner.” Kevin Bacon had been a lost, long-haired wiener dog that we’d been temporarily stuck caring for during our stay in Atlantic City. Cam had grown attached to Kevin, and he’d been reluctant to return the dachshund to its owner before we left. She had paid Cam a generous reward, and I wasn’t surprised to see he’d used some of that money to adopt a furry friend of his own.
Cam followed his nose to the kitchen and set Arnold down to wander. “Something smells good.”
“Meatloaf and mac ’n’ cheese. You’re welcome to join me. Help yourself to a drink.”
Cam rubbed his hands together and opened the fridge.
“Absolutely not,” I said as he reached for a beer. He heaved a sigh and settled for a Coke. Contrary to Mrs. Haggerty’s opinion of me, I was perfectly capable of setting boundaries and enforcing rules. Cam’s stomach growled. He peeked over my shoulder as I gave the pot of macaroni a final stir. “How’s your grandmother?” I asked him.
“Good, I guess. She’ll be back in a week.”
“A week? Where is she?”
“Remember the reward money I got for returning Kevin Bacon to that rich lady? I used it to send my grandma on one of those singles cruises for old people. I found a killer last-minute deal online.”
I turned from the stove, catching him as he blushed. “That was sweet of you, Cameron. But I thought that money was supposed to be for school.”
He shrugged. “I can go back to school anytime. Besides, my grandma always wanted to see all those fancy places in Europe, and I think she’s been kind of lonely lately.”
I got the sense that his grandmother wasn’t the only one. “Who’s taking care of you while she’s gone?”
