Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Adam is the one protecting her mother.
Adam
Denver, CO
A master of disguise.
It’s what I do, a skill I learned while on the road with my mother and her boyfriend, along with their pack of criminal friends during most of my youth. I’m dressed as a repairman in a blue jumpsuit with a pair of brown contacts over my blue eyes. My black hair is slicked back. I ring the bell of the stucco home wrapped in ivy and wait for an answer.
A mid-thirties brunette I know to be Celia Ramirez, Gigi’s housekeeper of five years answers the door. “Yes?”
“There’s a gas leak on the street.” I show her a clipboard. “We need to check the lines running in and out of the house to assure we aren’t on the verge of a catastrophic event.”
“Oh God,” Celia says. “That sounds terrifying. What do I need to do?”
“I’ll need access inside to determine where the pipes might be under pressure. From what I can tell from the maps, it’s the kitchen and the backyard that need attention.”
“You want to come in?”
“That is necessary, yes.”
“I can’t just let you in. Can you prove you work for the gas company?”
I shove a card at her that will ring Blake. “Call. Make it fast. Time is critical.”
She grabs her phone from her pocket and dials the number on the official-looking card complete with the gas company’s address and logo. She speaks to Blake and her eyes go wide, proof he’s laying it on thick. A moment later, she disconnects and waves me forward. “Come in, please.” She backs up and allows me my entry.
I enter inside the house, entering a towering foyer with a fancy chandelier above my head and I decide it would make a good weapon, should one need one. Cut it, drop it. Someone gets it in the head.
“This way,” the woman says, pointing down a long hallway, and hurrying ahead of me.
Our destination is just beneath an archway where I find a living room with expensive, Regency-style furnishings that scream “grandma.”
“The kitchen,” she says.
She indicates a door and I enter the kitchen with her on my heels. The kitchen layout is expensive and as expected; high-end tile, stainless steel, a dramatic island. “How do you look at the pipes?” Celia asks from behind me.
I reach in the bag on my shoulder, pull out a fake gadget that does absolutely nothing, and hold it up. “This little baby will snoop out a leak. I’m going to stick this behind each appliance.” I hold up a hand. “I don’t have to move anything. I just have to let it sit for a few minutes.”
“I see,” she says tightly, probably fretting about her need to pick up her kids in half an hour. “I guess I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”
With a nod, I set my bag on the island, and after another moment of hesitation Celia exits the kitchen. I stand there, listening to her footsteps fading, and when they disappear, I cross to the back door and crack it open. I plan to sneak around the door, just outside Gigi’s office and try and put eyes on Harper’s mother. But that plan shifts immediately.
Not only is a fire crackling in a massive stone fireplace, but Gigi and Danielle, Harper’s mother, are standing in front of it while Celia, who clearly tracked them down via the office patio door, explains the gas leak.
The chat with Celia is short and she departs, which means she’ll be coming back here sooner than later. “Answer me, Gigi,” Danielle demands, her tone low and clipped, but I can hear her clearly. “Why would you convince Eric to come here?”
“I didn’t convince him,” Gigi snaps. “He hates me. Harper convinced him. Your daughter knows we need help even if you don’t.”
“We don’t need help,” Danielle says.
Gigi laughs. “Are you playing dumb or are you really that stupid?”
“My daughter’s smitten with him. He’s rich and good looking and that’s all she sees.”
“Like my son who you married? Sounds like you’re two of a kind. Mother and daughter.”
“Stop being a bitch,” Danielle pops back. “Stop. I love your son. I’m protecting him. You’re protecting you.”
“You seem very afraid of Eric. Why is that?”
“Your son doesn’t want Eric here.”
“Eric is my son’s child. He’s my grandchild. He’s more a part of this family than you will ever be.”
“Now you’re just being a bitch. Eric’s our enemy.”
“Seems to me none of us know who our real enemies are, now do we?”
“Why does that feel like a threat?” Danielle quips back.
“Why do you see threats that no one else sees? But you want a threat,” Gigi adds. “I might be old, but I protect what’s mine. Everything you think is yours has always been mine.”
Footsteps sound behind me and I shut the sliding door to face Celia. “All clear in here. I was about to head outside.” I don’t wait on her to reply. I reach for the door again, only to have it open as Danielle, a pretty brunette, who’s the spitting image of Harper, runs smack into me.