“Dory! Language,” Susie protested on autopilot.
“Mom, stick it,” Dory said. “This once, you don’t get to pretend that this is fine. He’s not the Artful Dodger. Neither was Dad. This is real, and people get hurt.”
For a second, Susie looked injured. Then she lifted her chin. “You think I don’t know that?” she asked. “You think that I don’t know what probably happened to Tommy? That Grade doesn’t deliver Uber for ten grand a night?”
Dory looked at her. “I know you know,” she said. “You justpretendyou don’t and that it’s all OK. Well, maybe it isn’t. Is this to do with the sheriff’s department being all over the Choke?”
Grade hesitated. “I can take care of myself,” he said. “You’re the ones I’m worried about.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dory said. She sat back and crossed her arms, her face set in a pout. “You think that we’ll be safe if we go? That we won’t get hurt as long as we’re not here when something happens to you? You selfish little bastard.”
Susie slapped her hand on the table. “Enough,” she said. “We’re going.”
“You can’t make me,” Dory said.
“He’s already paid,” Susie said. She pushed herself up and brushed her blouse down over her stomach. “I’m not going to waste that money. Go and pack, Dory. Whatever it is you need to get off your chest, it can wait. Your brother needs some time.”
She waited.
“Dore,” Grade said. “Please.”
“Assholes,” Dory said as she got up stiffly. “You’re all assholes. But fine. We’ll run and hide, and if I have to bury you when we get back, Grade? I’m putting Tommy on the gravestone and telling everyone all your secrets.”
She slammed out of the room.
Susie started to follow and then hesitated. She reached out and touched Grade’s cheek, the bruises now faded to browns and blues. “If there’s anything I can do to help,” she said, “even if it’s going away, I’ll always do it for you.”
She turned to go. Grade cleared his throat to stop her, then hesitated when she turned back around. The last thing he wanted was to get his family involved. But it would make things easier if…
“Mom,” he said, “do you ever do any cleaning work up on Longwall?”
She cocked her head to the side in confusion but nodded without asking any questions.
“Greta has the contract for most of those houses,” she said. “Why?”
“I need to get into one,” he said. “I’d rather not break anything.”
Susie went over to her red coat hung on the back of the kitchen door and fished out a set of keys.
“Greta keeps all the keys at the office,” she said as she handed the set over. “We have to drop them back by eight and pick them up every morning at four. Greta can never be bothered to get up that early, so we all have our own keys to get in. Wear gloves. I don’t want to lose this job.”
She squeezed his hand and left.
Grade bounced the keys in his palm for a moment and then got up and left before Dory came back to yell at him again.
Chapter Fourteen
Clay stood poolside at Fisher’s estate and watched Nesmith cut through the water. After the third lap, Nesmith gave in and boosted himself out onto the side. He sat, dripping water onto the tiles, on the edge of the pool, and looked Clay up and down.
“Like what you see?” he asked as he wiped water off his chest with his hand.
Clay considered that for a second and then shook his head.
“There is no answer that won’t blow up in my face, is there?” he asked.
Nesmith leaned back and braced his arms behind him. “Probably not,” he said. “But if you turn up unannounced, you have to deal with awkward moments like this. Why are you here, Mr. Traynor?”
Clay grabbed one of the poolside loungers and dragged it over. The legs scraped noisily against the tiles. He dropped it next to the pool and sat down on the edge, his elbows braced on his knees.
