When I headed to the dining room for breakfast after showering, I expected to find Aisling and Griffin alone at the table. I was resigned to listening to them coo as they let loose some heavy petting to steal my appetite. Instead, they sat on one side of the table, frowns on their faces, and glared at my mother as she drank coffee and amiably chatted across from them.
“Mom?”
Lily Grimlock had been a beauty in her day. Death stole her from us years before, but we miraculously got her back. She wasn’t the same woman — not physically or mentally — but I was convinced she had the same heart. Deep down. Maybe really deep down. Okay, I knew she was different. I was determined to reach her, though. She was still in there. I simply had to find the real person hiding within.
“Hello, Braden.” Mom beamed at me as I leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek. “I was hoping to see you. I thought I might head up to check on you, but Aisling insisted I stay with her and Griffin. I think she’s jealous of the time we spend together.”
“Or I simply don’t trust you to wander around the house unsupervised,” Aisling shot back.
I extended a warning finger in her direction. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, don’t fight on my account,” Mom supplied, chuckling. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”
“Braden can have all of you,” Aisling sneered, frowning when Griffin tapped the side of her plate. “What? Are you trying to make me kill you?”
Griffin didn’t back down. “You need to eat. You have another long day ahead of you. I’m not letting you out of this house until you clean your plate.”
“He’s strict, Aisling,” Mom teased, her eyes lighting. “Your father used to say similar things to you. As I recall, you didn’t react well to being bossed around.”
Aisling narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “Why don’t you mind your own business? I can handle my own relationship, thank you.” She turned to Griffin. “I’m going to eat my breakfast, but not because you told me to. I’m doing it because I’m hungry and it will irritate Mom that I followed your instructions and didn’t rise to her rather obvious bait.”
I wanted to reach over the table and throttle her. “That’s enough, Aisling,” I snapped. “You don’t have to be so rude. Mom stopped in for a visit. Stop acting like you’re not happy to see her.”
The look Aisling shot me said she wasn’t acting, but she wisely kept her mouth shut as she turned back to her breakfast.
“So, it’s just the two of you this week?” Mom asked as she poured herself another cup of coffee. “How did that happen?”
“There’s a conference in Vegas,” I explained. “Two of us had to stay behind. Aisling volunteered because she didn’t want to be away from her love muffin, and I lost when we drew straws for the other spot.”
“I see.” Mom’s eyes shifted to Aisling and Griffin. “Love muffin?”
Aisling is nothing if not irritating when she wants to be. She knew Griffin wasn’t our mother’s favorite person and she was more than willing to go against her own beliefs to irritate someone. That was her greatest strength.
“He’s my love muffin,” Aisling said with conviction. “He’s like a blueberry muffin with all that crumbly yummy stuff on the top. I can’t be away from him. I’m nothing without him. I’ll want to crawl into a hole and die if we spend five minutes apart.”
“Oh, that was sweet, baby,” Griffin drawled as I tried to refrain from puking. “I feel the same way about you.”
“That’s not co-dependent at all,” Mom muttered, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
And I couldn’t believe she didn’t recognize sarcasm when she heard it. “Don’t worry about them, Mom,” I offered reassuringly. “Aisling is simply trying to mess with you. She doesn’t call Griffin ‘love muffin’ or anything ... er, at least as far as I can tell.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Mom’s smile was back. “I forgot how sarcastic your sister can be, Braden. It’s truly a significant weapon when used correctly.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely a weapon,” I agreed as I doled corned beef hash onto my plate. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, Mom — I am, so don’t think otherwise — but what are you doing here? You don’t usually stop by for breakfast.”
“No, but I had a visitor early this morning, and when he told me why he was stopping by I figured it was best for me to head straight here.”
I was confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Someone broke into Grimlock Manor last night while you were sleeping.”
The simple statement was like a blow to the solar plexus. “What?”
“You saw someone break in here last night and are only telling us now?” Griffin challenged, leaning forward.
“I told you that it was a meth head,” Aisling muttered under her breath. “He probably stole my underwear to sniff.”
I ignored her and kept all of my attention focused on Mom. “We need more information than that.”
“And I’m here to give you more information.” Mom’s tone was almost breezy. “Bub was in the neighborhood last night. He’s a gargoyle, in case you’ve forgotten, so he can get around without people noticing.”
“We’re not likely to forget rubbery dog-owl creatures,” Aisling shot back.
“Anyway, he was in the neighborhood last night and saw something suspicious in the alley behind the house,” Mom continued. “He moved closer and saw a man dressed in all black enter. He was inside for a bit. Bub was going to alert me when the man exited the house and slipped into the alley to disappear.
“Now, he guessed it could’ve been a worker who forgot something and went back, but the workers don’t usually leave through the alley,” she continued. “Also, he said the security system was alerting. An employee would know how to use the security system.”
“The security system has malfunctioned two nights in a row,” I explained. “We searched the house both nights and came up empty. I guess now we know someone was in the house after all.”
Griffin was grim. “And we didn’t catch him.” He glanced at Aisling, his lips curving down. “Baby, I think you should go back to the townhouse with Jerry tonight. I’ll stay here with Braden so we can set a trap and catch this guy. I don’t know that he’s stupid enough to come back a third night, but I’m willing to take a shot.”
Aisling balked. “I’m not leaving you. You almost died last night. I’m not going through that again.”
“I only almost died in your head,” Griffin shot back. “That’s why you had the tennis racquet, to protect me.”
“I’m still not going.” Aisling is stubborn when she wants to be. “You’re my love muffin and I’ll never let you walk into danger without me at your side.”
I didn’t bother to hide my eye roll. “You guys are officially sick.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Griffin waved off my dig and snagged Aisling’s gaze. “I would feel better if I knew you were safe.”
“And I would feel better if I was with you when you set the trap,” Aisling argued. “I wonder who’s going to win this particular battle.”
“I think both of you are going to win,” Mom interjected, shaking her head. She clearly didn’t find Aisling and Griffin’s verbal foreplay nearly as entertaining as they did. “Bub followed the man to his home. We know where he lives ... and that he’s there right now.”
I brightened considerably. “Oh, well, that solves everything.” I beamed at her. “You came through for us, Mom. Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you, Mom,” Aisling deadpanned, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
8
Eight
Because the intruder broke into Grimlock Manor, I figured this was a family problem. When Griffin insisted on calling in late to work so he could go with me to confront the guy Bub had followed, I realized it was much more than that.
“We can’t all go,” I complained as Aisling shrugged into her coat. “Some
one has to collect souls.”
“I already called the home office and told them we have a bit of a domestic emergency, so they rearranged our morning collections,” she volunteered. “We’re free through lunch.”
Instead of being happy about the development, I had to force myself to refrain from wrestling her to the ground and rubbing her face in my armpit. She was used to it from when we were kids — although she cried and yelled for Dad to save her the few times she didn’t exact bloody revenge herself — and I was overwhelmed by the urge to take her down a notch now.
“See, we can all go together.” Griffin smiled as he holstered his weapon and fixed me with a pointed look. “That means we’re all going together whether you like it or not, and if you try to arrange it so only you go, we’re going to have a fight.”
“And I’ll call Dad and tell him you’re being a doofus,” Aisling added.
“You always were a tattletale,” I grumbled, grabbing my jacket from the rack in the corner. “Why must you always be such a pain in the ass?”
“It’s a gift.”
Griffin insisted on driving — something else that irked — but his argument made sense. He said the neighborhood Mom described before leaving didn’t sound like the sort a BMW would fit in. We didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves, so we had no choice but to ride in his Ford Explorer.
Aisling called “shotgun” the second we exited the house, causing me to make a face as Griffin snickered.
“You know, she wouldn’t go after you the way she does if you didn’t make yourself such an easy mark,” he offered. “She preys on weakness.”
I slowed my pace. Aisling was already in the Explorer, fastening her seatbelt, so she couldn’t hear us. “You’re basically saying you fell in love with a killer. You realize that, right?”
“She’s not a killer. She’s ... unique. You guys are the ones who taught her that winning was everything. Now you act shocked when she always wants to win.”
“It’s a lot more fun to play the ‘winning is everything’ game when she’s the one who loses,” I pointed out. “Seriously, though, how do you put up with her? She’s the devil.”
“She’s sweet when she’s not around you guys.”
“She can’t possibly be as sweet as you pretend.”
“You might be surprised.”
“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“I guess so.”
GRIFFIN FOUND THE ADDRESS Mom provided him fairly quickly. He was right about the neighborhood. It was rundown, and the BMW would’ve stood out, making the residents believe I was either a mobster or drug dealer. Neither was a suitable option.
“That’s it.” Griffin confirmed the address against the sheet of paper Mom supplied. “She said the guy looked to be in his sixties, which seems a bit old for a B-and-E man.”
“Maybe he’s someone we know,” Aisling suggested. Griffin stopped at the Starbucks drive-through to get her a cafe mocha before heading to the bad side of Detroit, where coffee shops were nonexistent. “Can you run the address to see who lives here?”
Griffin nodded. “Give me a second.”
Aisling sipped her coffee and shifted to stare at me. “Why do you think someone would break into Grimlock Manor?”
“I think the house makes an enticing target,” I answered. “It looks like a castle. Everyone says that. Castles contain a lot of things people want to steal.”
“But everything in Grimlock Manor is locked up,” Aisling pointed out. “Dad has a safe for the cash and jewelry. The guns are locked in a different safe, as are the swords. That’s the sort of stuff a burglar wants to steal.”
“Maybe he’s not a normal burglar. Maybe he’s looking for art ... or statues.”
“Then why break in when we’re there?” Aisling challenged. “Why not wait until the house is empty?”
“When is the house ever empty?” Griffin interjected, his gaze intent on his phone as he operated a search engine. “Someone is always there. This is the perfect time for someone who has been casing the house to try to break in because half the people who live here are gone. Actually, more than half. You just happened to luck out and have us move in with you.”
“See. I told you I was lucky.” Aisling poked my knee as I fought the urge to smile. There were times even I found her funny, although I never wanted to admit that because it would only encourage her.
“So, you think that someone has been watching the house for a long time and picked this moment to break in because somehow he knows Dad and the others are gone?” I asked Griffin.
He shrugged. “Seems as likely a reason as any.”
I wasn’t sure. “Maybe it’s something else.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Aisling, you didn’t make enemies with anyone the past few days and forget to tell us, did you?”
“That’s a low question,” Aisling muttered.
“That wasn’t an answer, Aisling,” Griffin pressed, his tone stern. “Did you pick a fight with someone and not tell me? That doesn’t seem like you because crowing about the people you manage to tick off is part of your repertoire, but it’s happened a time or two before.”
“I didn’t tick anyone off,” Aisling protested. “I haven’t even run into Angelina this week. I’m feud-free right now, but I’m always on the lookout for a new arch nemesis. I’m bored with the current crop.”
“How many men have girlfriends who can say things like that with a straight face? I’m a lucky man.” Griffin grossed me out when he smacked a loud kiss against Aisling’s lips. “The house belongs to a Greg Berlin. He’s sixty-two and his wife, Amy, lives with him. They have no children. Greg has a rather lengthy rap sheet.”
“Is he a thief?” Aisling asked.
Griffin shrugged. “I guess that depends on how you define the word ‘thief.’ He’s been arrested on a variety of charges, including securities fraud, embezzlement, bid rigging and economic espionage.”
Aisling asked the obvious question. “What’s economic espionage?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. There’s a reason I prefer hunting murderers. It’s easier to understand motivations.”
“Fair enough.” Aisling turned her attention to the house. “Should we knock on the front door? I bet he craps himself when he sees us.”
“As lovely as that imagery is, I prefer you remain here while we check out the house.” Griffin held up his hand to silence my sister before she could get up a full head of steam and start screeching. “You’ll stand out in this neighborhood, Aisling, and I’m worried people will think you’re a prostitute because of your age.”
I couldn’t hold back my snicker at the indignant look on my sister’s face. “Oh, that is just priceless.”
“Why would they think I’m a prostitute?” Aisling demanded, her fury evident.
“Because in this neighborhood prostitution is a way to feed children,” Griffin replied. “Look around. These people are struggling. Stay here. I promise we won’t knock on the front door without you. How does that sound?”
Aisling didn’t look convinced, but ultimately she acquiesced. “Fine. I agree to your terms. I’m not happy about it, though.”
“You rarely are.”
BY TACIT AGREEMENT, Griffin and I opted to stay together as we circled the house. He didn’t have to announce his plan. I understood. He wanted to see if we could catch movement inside the house. It was important for us to figure out how many people were inside. If it was more than one person, we were probably better off taking a step back and thinking things through.
“You’re good with Aisling,” I offered, keeping my voice low as we navigated around some bushes. “You know how to handle her, make her do what you want.”
“Oh, Braden, is that what you see?” Griffin looked disappointed. “I don’t ask her to do things because I want my way. Sure, I wanted my way on this one because I was worried about her wandering around on her own in this neighborhood, but her safety is
most important.”
I stared at him, unblinking. “I think that’s what I said.”
“No. In your mind, I’m the king and tell her how things have to be. When that doesn’t work, I manipulate her.”
“You did manipulate her,” I argued, my patience slipping. “You told her people would think she was a prostitute – something she would hate – so you got your way.”
Griffin slowed his pace. “And what do you think I won?”
“She’s not here bugging us.”
“She doesn’t bug me. She bugs you.”
“Oh, come on. She bugs you sometimes, too. You can admit it. I won’t tell her.”
“First, if I said anything of the sort you’d run back to the Explorer and that would be the first thing out of your mouth,” Griffin challenged. “Second, she doesn’t bug me. Sure, she opens her mouth before her mind most of the time, but I often find that funny.
“You’re the one who finds her irritating,” he continued. “She finds you irritating, too. It’s an even trade. The thing is, she finds you irritating because she sees herself in you. She doesn’t want anyone to point that out, but it’s true. You find her irritating for the same reason.”
“You’re not the first one to tell me that I’m like her,” I pointed out. “I don’t happen to believe it.”
“Well, that’s your prerogative.” Griffin’s tone was firm. “You two share a ton of the same personality quirks. That’s why you irritate each other most. That’s also why you can’t see it.”
“Whatever.” I was uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was heading and scuffed my foot on the ground as I collected my thoughts. “Can I ask you something?” The question was out of my mouth before I thought better of it.
Griffin nodded. “Sure.”
“She’s a lot of work. I mean ... a lot of work. You didn’t even know reapers were a real thing before she came into your life. You didn’t know about wraiths ... or gargoyles ... or back-from-the-dead mothers.”
The Grim & The Dead Page 7