“Your mother is not allowed in this house,” Dad said. “No matter what.”
“But, Dad,” Braden protested. “I want to see her. I want a chance to talk to her.”
“Then do it elsewhere,” Dad shot back. “You’re my son and I love you, Braden, but I think you have some hard truths coming your way. You need to be careful. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to any of you.
“Your mother will tip her hand eventually,” he continued. “I need you alive when that happens.”
Braden’s face was grim, but he nodded.
“We don’t want you to get eaten, Braden,” I added. “Even I don’t want that.”
Braden’s face shifted from resigned to murderous. “I’m going to kill you. You know that, right?”
“Why can’t you ever leave a situation alone?” Dad asked, shaking his head. “Why must you always make things worse, Aisling?”
I shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“I’ll gift you with my foot in your behind if you don’t cease,” Dad said. “For now, we’ll continue doing what we’re doing and add an extra layer of security here. When you are out on jobs, I want you looking over your shoulders. Does everyone understand?”
Five heads nodded in unison.
“Good,” Dad said. “Let’s eat. Then we can talk about Aisling’s new living arrangement with the handsy cop.”
“This won’t end well,” Griffin muttered as he sipped his coffee.
He had that right.
16
Sixteen
Griffin had a few things to catch up on at work, and he wanted to stop by his apartment complex and give notice, so he left me at home under Jerry’s watchful eye. Because we’d made up, Jerry was quick to dote on me, enjoying that we were alone because Aidan had to handle a weekend shift. We were thrilled to spend time together.
That lasted for exactly thirty minutes.
“I want to follow Angelina,” I announced as I finished my ice cream and handed Jerry the bowl. My shoulder was too sore to do dishes. No, really.
“Why on earth would you want to follow Angelina?” Jerry asked, making a face.
I told him about my run-in with her and John Anderson the previous day, and when I finished he was flummoxed.
“Griffin is convinced there’s something weird going on with this John Anderson guy,” I said. “I don’t want to encourage him to be jealous – okay, that’s not entirely true, you know what I mean – but the more I think about it, the more it bugs me.”
“Okay,” Jerry said, his mind clearly busy. “How could John Anderson be sure Angelina would lead him to you?”
“Everyone in the free world knows Angelina and I hate each other,” I replied. “Maybe he didn’t think she would lead him to me as much as he hoped for information about me. Running into me on the street could’ve been an accident.”
“And there’s no way he could’ve gotten a copy of your schedule, right?”
“Not that I can think of,” I said. “I don’t want to follow Angelina all day. Cillian’s search is taking forever because John Anderson is a really common name. If we got a few more details to feed Cillian he might be able to track this guy faster.”
“And you only want to watch Angelina, right? You don’t want to get into a slap fight with her, do you?”
“Of course not,” I scoffed. “My shoulder still hurts. She could win a fight right now if that happened. No one wants that.”
Jerry still wasn’t convinced. “Griffin will be really angry if he finds out you spent your afternoon chasing Angelina around instead of resting like you told him you would.”
“I know.”
“He’s not going to like this.”
“I know that,” I said. “Griffin also said he was going to text and see what we wanted for dinner before coming home. That will give us plenty of time to skedaddle back here and pretend we were resting all day.”
“That’s dishonest.”
“You say that like it’s a bad – or for that matter, new – thing,” I said. “This could be important.”
“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but both of us know you want to get information on John Anderson to mess with Angelina,” Jerry said. “Because I hate Angelina as much as you do, though, I’m game. You have to promise to be careful, though.”
“Aren’t I always careful?”
“Not even remotely.”
I blew out a sigh. “I promise to be careful,” I said. “We’ll take your car. We probably won’t even have to get out of it. We’ll just follow Angelina and see whether she meets with John Anderson. Maybe we can get a license plate number or something.”
“And how are you going to explain that to Griffin?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure nudity will be involved.”
“Of course,” Jerry muttered, resigned. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
I moved to get off the couch but he stilled me with a hand on my wrist. “What?”
“Can we dress up and pretend we’re in Charlie’s Angels and on a mission?”
Oh, good grief. That sounded horrible. “Why not?”
“DO YOU think she still stuffs?” I asked two hours later, sipping my iced tea and watching Angelina leave the gym with her yoga mat clutched under her arm. She was dressed in tight knit pants and one of those tank tops with a built-in bra, so her boobs were on display as she shrugged into her hoodie.
“Of course she still stuffs,” Jerry said, leaning back in the driver’s seat. He wore a pink satin coat – I have no idea where he got it, so don’t ask – and he also sported vintage plastic sunglasses. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we were supposed to be undercover, not blowing our cover. Everyone who passed us did a double take when they glanced inside the vehicle. “Her boobs are lumpy underneath. That means she stuffs.”
That sounded like proof enough for me. I was still bored. After watching Angelina read a magazine in front of her living room window, shop at the area Whole Foods and then go to the gym, I was pretty much at my limit. “I don’t think she’s seeing John Anderson today.”
“Probably not,” Jerry agreed. “Do you want to go home?”
I glanced at my phone screen. Griffin hadn’t texted yet. If we left now we would safely beat him home and he’d be none the wiser. “Let’s watch her for a few more minutes,” I said. “Maybe she’s going to meet him next.”
“Do you really think this man is a bad guy?” Jerry asked.
“He would have to be bad or stupid to purposely spend time with Angelina.”
“That’s true.” Jerry sipped his papaya juice. “When do you think you’re going to move?”
I’d been waiting for this question. “We want to paint and we have to pick out furniture,” I answered. “I couldn’t do any of that without your expertise, so we are waiting for you.”
Jerry’s expression was incredulous when he shifted in my direction and tilted his sunglasses down so I could see his furious eyes. “Are you telling me we could be looking at catalogs instead of doing this?”
Uh-oh. “This is a very important excursion, Jerry.”
“Oh, whatever,” Jerry said, making a face. “I would much rather pick out furniture and paint colors than follow Angelina and her Kleenex boobs. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that Angelina has been horrible to both of us for the better part of fifteen years and she deserves to be kicked in the butt.”
“That’s true every day,” Jerry snapped. “You’re not going to move every day, though. I want to pick out furniture. Angelina will always be here for us to kick around.”
Crap. I knew this would happen. “We’ll watch Angelina for another half hour and then we can look at catalogs the rest of the day,” I promised. “How does that sound?”
“Can I really have a vote?”
“Will you really listen to what I like and not veto it out of the gate?” I challenged.
“Of course.”
I didn’t believe him for
a second. “Then you can have a vote,” I said. What? He has better taste than me at least fifty percent of the time, and I don’t like it when he pouts. Sue me.
I turned my attention back to the Royal Oak street and frowned when I saw the spot Angelina previously occupied was empty. I leaned forward and scanned the sidewalk in both directions, coming up empty. “Where did she go?”
“She’s probably peddling her wares on Eight Mile,” Jerry answered. “How should I know? I was looking at you. You were supposed to be watching her.”
“Well, I was looking at you, too,” I snapped. “How could I watch her when I was staring soulfully into your eyes?”
“You weren’t doing that,” Jerry protested. “You were stroking my ego with potential furniture because you want me to help you move and make sure you don’t have a decorating disaster. Don’t make things into something they’re not.”
That was rich coming from him. “Well … crud. We can’t follow her if we don’t know where she is.”
“Does that mean we can go home and look at catalogs?” Jerry was excited at the prospect.
“That means I’m going to take a quick look around the block. If I can’t find her we’ll go home,” I offered.
“Fine,” Jerry said, exhaling heavily as he pushed open his door. “Just for the record, though, I never want to find Angelina.”
That made two of us. Well … kind of.
We walked across the street and scanned the storefronts. Angelina couldn’t have gone too far, and while downtown Royal Oak is a kitschy shopping delight, there are only so many stores Angelina would frequent.
“There’s no way she went into that T-shirt store,” I said, pointing.
“The shoe store is out, too,” Jerry added. “Angelina is more Ally McBeal when it comes to shoes. This store is pretty much Bosom Buddies.”
“Griffin might be right about us watching too much old television,” I mused.
“Speaking of that, do you want to watch The Facts of Life with me?” Jerry asked. “I got the complete series for thirty-five bucks on Amazon. Did you know Molly Ringwald was in the first season and they fired her? Can you imagine firing Molly Ringwald?”
“I can’t imagine hiring her in the first place,” I responded truthfully. “That said, I would love to watch The Facts of Life. Any show with a character named Tootie is a winner in my book.”
“We can sing the theme song and feather our hair.” Jerry was positively giddy. “That will be on top of the catalogs. And you need a good pedicure.”
I scowled. “It’s fall. I’m not wearing open-toed shoes.”
“Yes, but you sleep barefoot with Griffin and you already have large feet for a woman,” Jerry pointed out. “You should make them as cute as possible if you want to hold on to your man.”
I made an exaggerated “Well, duh” face. “I’m pretty sure that’s what my boobs are for.”
“Let’s call it a day,” Jerry whined. “Angelina the asshat is nowhere to be found, and we can have so much more fun at home.”
“Fine,” I said, giving in. “I’m not done torturing Angelina, though. Next time I’m going to take that Kleenex from her bra and set it on fire, and then laugh and point when she runs screaming down the street.”
“That sounds fun,” Jerry said brightly.
I turned to return to the car, pulling up short when I found Angelina standing on the sidewalk behind us. She had her hands on her hips and an “I smell something nasty” look on her face. I could only imagine she’d caught a whiff of her own scent.
“Hey, Angelina!” Jerry blurted out when he saw her. “Funny running into you here.”
“Yes, it’s hysterical,” Angelina deadpanned, disgusted. “Were you two following me?”
“We only track stray dogs in heat for Animal Control on Wednesdays,” I answered. “It’s the weekend. We’re not on duty today.”
Angelina twisted her face into something akin to a dying clown on acid. “I heard you two talking,” she hissed. “I know you were following me. I want to know why.”
Hmm. How should we get out of this one? “We weren’t following you,” I lied. “We were simply trying to ascertain if skanks get busy on the weekends, too.”
“That does it,” Angelina reached for me and I quickly moved to skirt her hand. Jerry slapped it away, but it didn’t dissuade Angelina from trying again. “I’m going to kill you!”
“Don’t touch her,” Jerry screeched. “She was injured in a near-fatal mugging and she can’t be touched! I will yank your hair out of your head if you touch her!”
Angelina ignored Jerry’s outburst as I scampered out of her reach. That’s when another set of hands joined the fray, purple veins catching my attention as my mother grabbed Angelina’s wrist and dug her claw-like fingernails into the soft skin around the bones.
“What the … ?” Angelina’s eyes widened when they locked with my mother’s. “Mrs. Grimlock?”
“Hello, Angelina,” Mom said primly. “It’s been a long time.”
“But … .” Angelina glanced at me, flabbergasted. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“So are a lot of people,” Mom replied, shoving Angelina hard and forcing her to keep her distance from me. “You should keep your hands to yourself. You didn’t do it as a child, and I see nothing has changed now that you’re an adult.”
Angelina licked her lips, her mind busy as her gaze bounced between faces. “What’s going on? Did you bring your mother back from the dead, Aisling? Are you so much of a loser you need your mommy to stand up for you?”
“I didn’t bring her back from the dead,” I scoffed.
“That’s right,” Jerry said, planting his hands on his hips. “She did that on her own.”
“Does this have something to do with that creepy guy in your house wearing the robe who tried to kill us that day?” Angelina asked, narrowing her eyes. Crap. I’d forgotten she snuck into Grimlock Manor the night of a wraith attack. Dad threatened her with great bodily harm – and potential financial ruin – to shut her up.
“No,” I said. “She’s just … visiting.”
Mom arched an eyebrow, causing me to focus on her face. It was only then that I realized her facial veins were almost completely hidden – and not because she covered them with makeup. They’d somehow dissipated. What the heck was going on there?
“Your mother is visiting from Heaven?” Angelina asked, her voice shrill.
“I didn’t die, Angelina,” Mom supplied. “There was a … mistake. I’m back now, though, and I don’t like you any more now than I did back then.”
“I don’t understand,” Angelina said, rubbing her wrist where Mom grabbed her. Surprisingly, I felt pity for her. I couldn’t blame her for being confused. “How could your mother come back from the dead? Didn’t she die in a fire?”
“Um … .” It was too much to explain, especially to a person I hated.
“I didn’t die in the fire,” Mom offered. “There was a mistake. It doesn’t matter now. I’m back and I’m spending time with my family. That time includes protecting them from gutter trash like you.”
Angelina knit her eyebrows. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
“I just did,” Mom snapped, her eyes flashing. “I’ll do a lot worse if you don’t leave my daughter and Jerry alone. You don’t want to know the horrors I’ll unleash on you.”
“Leave her alone,” I ordered.
Mom graced me with a heartfelt smile. “Thank you, dear, but I can handle Angelina.”
“I was talking to you,” I countered, taking everyone by surprise.
“Aisling, what are you doing?” Jerry hissed. “If your mother wants to eat Angelina, I say more power to her.”
I shook my head. I hated Angelina, but she had every right to question this situation. No matter how much I despised her, I would never sit back and let Mom suck her soul … not unless I was really drunk, at least.
“What are you saying?” Mom asked, flustered. “You h
ate Angelina.”
“I do hate Angelina,” I agreed, glaring at her. “You’re a whore, and I often wish a bus would hit you so I never have to see your herpes-infested behind ever again.”
“Right back at you,” Angelina seethed.
“You can’t threaten her, though, Mom,” I said, turning back. “Angelina is right. My mother died a long time ago. I’ve accepted it. I’m not going to sit back and watch you threaten her because we got in a fight on the street.
“We always get in a fight on the street,” I continued. “It’s what we do. I almost look forward to it some days. How sad is that?”
“Very,” Angelina barked.
“You can’t threaten her, though,” I continued. “She’s not your problem. She’s my problem. And my problem was just leaving, weren’t you, Angelina?”
Angelina looked caught. She wasn’t ready to cede the argument and Mom’s return was almost more than she could fathom. “This isn’t over, Aisling,” Angelina said finally, licking her lips. “I’ll wait until you’re feeling better and then claw your eyes out.”
“Great,” I said. “I look forward to another parking lot battle.”
“Don’t follow me,” Angelina warned, shaking a finger in my face. “I don’t know what you two losers are up to, but I’m on to your game.”
“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Mrs. Grimlock, it was a great pleasure seeing you,” Angelina said, remembering her manners. “I hope we don’t meet again anytime soon. You should really try a new moisturizer and putting some color in your hair, by the way. It would do wonders for helping you fit in.” And she was back.
I watched Angelina until she was safely in her car before turning my attention to Mom. “You can’t go around threatening people,” I said. “I don’t care how much you hate them. Trust me. I hate Angelina.”
“Oh boy, do we hate her,” Jerry intoned.
“You can’t kill her, though,” I said. “You can’t stalk her, follow her or threaten her either. Mind your own business.”
“Do you feel the same way, Jerry?” Mom asked, locking gazes with my best friend.
Grim Reunion (Aisling Grimlock Book 4) Page 14