Stone blinked and twitched straight, alerting Grief. “Now? Uh … okay.” He started for the lobby to make the reservation, trying to grasp what was going on that his buddy would reach out unexpectedly like this. “What’re you doing up this way? Weren’t you at Bragg?”
“Contract work now. More money.”
That’s what they all said.
At the front desk, he logged in and scanned bookings. “Okay, we have a conference group coming in next week, so nothing long-term I’m afraid, but we can do a couple of nights.”
“That dog’ll hunt.”
“So, your friend and you?”
“Ya know, yeah?—I’d take a bed and shower, if you can spare it.”
Something about this nagged at Stone but he entered Taggart into the booking for the first room. “Okay, let me get the information on your friend for the res—”
“Gotta run. See you soon.”
Emptiness gaped through the line. He hung up on me? Stone frowned and shook his head.
“Problem?” Oscar asked as he ran daily receipts before closing out for the night and handing off to the nightshift.
“Nah,” Stone said. “When’s Olivia get in?”
Oscar indicated to the back. “Here now, grabbing a late dinner before she clocks in.”
“Good. In a couple hours, a man named Taggart will be here for two rooms. Bill’s on me.” Maybe Stone wouldn’t have to come out and get caught up in whatever mess Taggart was bringing. Besides, last thing he wanted was to explain to his battle buddy how he’d so colossally screwed himself over. “I’ve logged it in, so everything should be set up.”
“Understood,” Oscar said.
“If they need me, I’ll be in the condo.”
“Sounds good.”
With a whistle to Grief, Stone headed to his mom’s place. Over dinner last night, Mom had told him not to worry about her, that she and Brooke would spend the day setting up the place. Even the best of people would want a break after a day with his sister.
Rapping on the door, he paused as it wheezed open. Grief nosed in without a lick of shame. “Mom?” Most of the boxes were already broken down, several more stacked shoulder high formed a path to the kitchen, where he spotted his mom, sitting on a bar stool, face buried in her hands.
“Mom!” He hurried to her. “What’s wrong?”
She looked up with a tired smile. “Not a thing. I’m just …” Her gaze traveled the box-strewn condo. “I’m going to be busy for a few weeks. And it’s kind of hard to get used to the idea that this is home.” Grief twisted her features. “And if I’m honest, I miss our big house.”
“I hear you. You’ve had a rough few years, but … honestly? I’m glad you’re here, Mom.”
“I’m glad to be here. With you, Stone.” She patted his arm. “Really glad.”
He wanted to redirect her mood. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet,” she said around a yawn. “Thought I’d grab a bite around six or so.”
“Mom, it’s seven.”
Her weary eyes traveled to the digital clock on the microwave. “So it is. Maybe that’s why I feel so drained and emotional.”
He toyed with inviting her to the cabin, where he’d whip up something, but he wasn’t up for an interrogation tonight. Speaking of?— “Where’s Brooke?”
“She needed some things, so she went into town. We agreed to take a break for the rest of the night and pick up after breakfast in the morning.” She smiled. “It was so nice of you to give her a room—she could’ve slept on the couch in here.”
“Not necessary when we have vacancy.”
