Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (distant reading .txt) 📗

leave you in this place a moment longer than necessary.”

“It’s not dog jail,” I muttered.

Charles hissed at Leon, who quickly made his escape.

Downstairs, Ricky and Stephen were waiting by the door, talking shop. That is, Stephen was talking shop. Ricky was fingering his phone and didn’t seem at all interested in anything the other man was saying.

Mom hugged me good-night and said she’d call in the morning, and they left.

Chapter Sixteen

Friday at lunchtime I headed upstairs, once again thinking how much I’d miss this commute when I moved in with Connor. If we ever found a house to move into together, that is. Anything we liked was too expensive, and anything we could afford, we didn’t like.

I could ask my parents for a loan, and they’d give it without question, but I didn’t want to start our married life that way. Connor might not think of it as being indebted to my family, but I would.

Fluffy greeted me at the apartment door, dancing and yipping in excitement. Her excitement only increased when I got down the pink leash. I had to admit, the little thing was beginning to grow on me. She seemed to be starting to like me too.

I intended to hurry through the library, let the dog have a brief walk, and then go upstairs to eat my lunch and make a call to my mom.

I should have known better. The preschool story time was getting out, and every one of the kids wanted to stop and pet Fluffy. Fluffy wasn’t used to children, so I kept a careful eye out, but she appeared to enjoy their attention.

Charles, not used to not being the center of attention, perched on a high shelf and scowled malevolently. I hoped Charles wouldn’t be so offended he’d end their truce. Still holding the leash in one hand, I reached up and plucked Charles off the shelf with the other. I put him on the floor in front of a green-eyed, freckle-faced little girl with the wildest mop of red hair I’d ever seen. She squealed and dropped to her knees next to him. “Charles! Are you jealous? Don’t be jealous. You know you’re our favorite.”

Fluffy and I left Charles basking in compliments, as was his due. We had a quick walk and then scurried back inside for lunch. I opened and heated a can of vegetable soup, which I ate with a piece of toast and cheese. Then, disappointed that there’d been no leftover baked treats last night, I called my mom. “Any developments?”

“If you mean have I heard from Evangeline about her returning to Boston, no.”

“How long are you planning to stay?”

“As long as Evangeline does. She’s having lunch with Leon—again—and we’re going to the spa later. Would you like to join us?”

“I have this thing called a job. I’m on my lunch break now.”

“Oh yes. A job. So tedious.”

I briefly wondered what it must be like to have never had a real job. Then again, as “wife of,” Mom had worked hard enough.

“I’m getting the feeling you’re starting to get a bit impatient with Evangeline, Mom; that’s why I’m asking.”

“Impatient would be an understatement. I don’t expect you to understand, dear. Your life is so … different than mine.” A long silence came down the line. “I envy you, Lucy, but that’s neither here nor there. Yes, I don’t like Evangeline and I never have, but our lives are entwined in a way that’s difficult to explain. We’ve always had to pretend to be close, and that has made us close.”

“Even though you don’t like each other.”

“Even though.”

I hadn’t reacted when Mom said she envied my life. I’ve always known I never wanted hers. The pretense of a happy marriage, the country club circuit, the “frenemies,” the social expectations. No thanks.

Mom and I were getting on so much better these days, but I couldn’t forget that she’d tried to push me into following in her footsteps and marrying Ricky. Into marrying for social status and to keep the firm in the family rather than finding my own way and my own path to love.

“I’ll stay,” Mom said, “as long as Evangeline needs me to stay. And before you ask, Ellen and Amos are fine with that.”

Maybe. Mom and Ellen had never been friends either. Despite growing up in the same house, with the same parents, their life paths had been too different. In that, I was more like my aunt Ellen than my mother. Mom had not been happy that it was Ellen who introduced me to Bertie James when Bertie was looking to hire an assistant library director for the Lighthouse Library.

All water under the bridge, I reminded myself.

“Ricky might be going home soon,” Mom said.

“Before his mom? Why?”

“They dragged me into joining them for a quick drink after your book club last night, and Ricky said certain things are happening at the office that he needs to be, in his words, on top of. Evangeline was obviously surprised at that. He’d told her he’d stay here, in Nags Head, until they could take his father home. She started to have words with him about leaving early, but he cut her off. Too many people listening, I suspect.”

“Meaning Leon and Stephen?”

“Yes.”

“Speaking of Ricky—Mom, do you know anything about the state of Evangeline’s finances?”

“Why do you ask?”

“We know Rich was carrying a lot of debt. I’m wondering if Evangeline has money of her own.”

“It’s possible but unlikely. Her parents are both alive and seem to be in reasonably good health. They’re people of comfortable means but not excessively so, as far as I know. Evangeline has one younger sister, so I assume the family’s money will go to Evangeline and her sister eventually. Why do you ask?”

“All that talk last night about the estate of Sir Charles Baskerville and the search for an heir got me thinking.”

“Surely you’re not thinking Ricky killed his father for the inheritance?”

“To protect the inheritance, if Rich was squandering what money he had. Watson’s thinking