her husband was Dell.”
“That’s it! And they had two boys…”
Darby nodded as she tried to remember their names. “Daniel, maybe? And the
other one was…”
“Dermot,” I said. “They were a few
years older than us.”
“Like, five or six,” Darby said.
“They would’ve been in high school when I moved here.”
“And you said something happened?”
I asked. “Something bad?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, I never
heard the whole story. But it involved the younger brother.”
“Dermot?” I said. “Wasn’t he the
youngest?”
“Yep. But…I can’t remember…” She
nibbled on one thumbnail while trying to recall details about the incident at
the Flanagan’s house. “Was it an argument?” she continued after a few moments.
“Like, maybe a fight between Dermot and his dad that involved a gun? It’s all
so long ago...”
“You know what, Darby? You need to
get home to your new baby. And I’ve got four special orders to finish by the
end of the day. I’m going to call my mom later and get the scoop from her. I
know she’ll remember. Now that we’re talking about it, I’m really curious to
find out what it was.”
“Especially considering what just
happened there,” Darby said, getting into her car. “Will you call me if there’s
news about Tipper?”
“You can count on it,” I said. “And
give that baby a big kiss for me!”
CHAPTER
16
When my mother answered the phone
later that afternoon, she was humming an old song by the Beach Boys.
“Hey, mom!”
“Hi, sweetie,” she said cheerfully.
“Can you name that tune?”
“Yep.”
“Can you solve the riddle with just
one guess?”
“Um…Brian Wilson is coming for
dinner later?”
She moaned. “Wow, Katie! Your
deductive skills are fading fast.”
“What can I say? I spend all day in
a kitchen, making pies and cakes. Then I spend half of most nights on the
bookkeeping.”
“Why don’t you just hire someone to
do that for you, sweetheart? Maybe a retired accountant who wouldn’t mind
working a part-time job? I’d be happy to make some calls and see if—”
“I’m fine, mother! I’ve got this.”
The silence that followed was heavy
and flat, something that I knew all too well from our occasional disagreements.
“You still there?” I asked finally.
My mother sighed on the other end.
“Mom?”
She answered with another agitated
grumble.
“Okay, so I can sit here and carry
on both sides of the conversation if you’d like,” I offered. “But I would much
rather—”
“If you don’t want my help, just
say so.”
I smiled. “Some things never
change, mother.”
“Like your bad attitude?”
My smile became a hearty laugh. “If
I have a bad attitude,” I said, “which I don’t believe that I do, where do you
think it comes from?”
“How should I know?”
“My DNA, mom. I learned everything
I know from you.”
She scoffed. “And your father.”
“Right,” I said. “And him, too. But
I don’t have a bad attitude. I really appreciate the suggestion about hiring a
part-time bookkeeper, but I want to…” I caught myself and took a deep breath
before continuing. “No, I need to do things my own way. It’s one of the
first lessons I learned from you when I was a little girl.”
“How to be difficult?” she groused.
“I hardly think so.”
I took another breath and counted
to ten. “Should we maybe talk another time? It sounds like you’re having a
grumpy day.”
She muttered something about my
father.
“What was that?”
“Your father and I are having an
argument,” she said. “He thinks our trip to California should be postponed
because there’s a bocce ball tournament in Rosemary Beach.”
“I didn’t know dad played bocce ball.”
“He doesn’t. And that’s actually
the entire point of the thing. He suddenly announced one morning at breakfast
that he’s thinking about learning the game. And I told him that reminded
me of the time a few years ago when
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Dangerous Ground (L-id) [M-M]