Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Jeremy Madigan was Wendy Madigan’s uncle,” Mom says.
I know that much. Brendan told me. “And that is relevant…how?”
Except…
I drop my jaw open. My father just referred to him as “Uncle Jeremy.”
“Ava…”
I stand tall, determined, in the face of my mother, who I respect but who I’m also determined to get answers from. “Someone sent me these messages, Mom. Someone wants me to know about Wendy Madigan, and someone wants me to know something about my grandmother. They can’t be referring to your mother. I remember when she died, and I remember when we buried her. But I don’t know anything about Dad’s mother. Only that she was mentally ill, and she passed away in her sleep at the facility where she lived.”
Mom sighs. “She did.”
“So why is someone telling me that my grandmother is alive? If it doesn’t refer to your mother and doesn’t refer to Dad’s mother—”
Mom bites her lip.
Yes, my mother—the cop with nerves of steel—is biting her freaking lip.
Ruby Steel doesn’t get nervous.
Ruby Steel doesn’t bite her fucking lip. That’s an Ava Steel thing.
“Damn it,” I say. “What the hell is going on?”
“Language, Ava.”
I draw in a long, deep breath, trying but failing to control my temper. “I don’t give a flying fuck about language right now, Mom. Something’s going on. I’ve known it for a while. Ever since I got that bizarre message about Darth Morgen and I drew a card. The hierophant. The fucking hierophant. I don’t know who I am anymore, Mom, and I need you to tell me why that is.”
My mother’s features soften. “Nothing will ever change who you are, Ava.”
I crunch my hands into fists. “Damn it! I’m so tired of cryptic answers. You were a police detective, Mom. A private investigator. You don’t do cryptic.”
“Ava, we need to let your father rest.”
“Fine. Let him rest. You and I can talk now. You look pretty darned healthy except for that incessant lip biting, which I’ve never seen you do.”
Mom bites her lip again but quickly stops. “This isn’t my story. It’s your father’s.”
“Then let’s go on in and he can tell me.”
My mother positions herself between me and the door to her bedroom where my father is. “No, Ava. Not now. Not while he’s still weak.”
“Gina says he looks fine.”
“Gina sees what she wants to see. She paints her own pictures. She’s an artist.”
I shake my head. “That’s BS, and we both know it. Dad is fine. He had a panic attack, Mom. A hardy and healthy middle-aged man, with no history of anxiety, had a panic attack at your damned anniversary party. Why? What the fuck is going on?”
“Ava…”
I grip my mother’s shoulders. “You can move, Mom, or I’ll move you.”
Mom doesn’t even wince. “I’m still your mother. I’m still a trained police officer.”
“Yeah? I’m your daughter. I’m taller than you, and I’m damned strong myself.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Ava.”
I let go of her shoulders and move away from her so that I meet her gaze head on. “Really? Is this really where you want to go, Mom? You want to get into a fistfight with your daughter? Because I’ll do it. I’m that frustrated. I’m that pissed.”
“Your father loves you.”
“Have I questioned that?”
“He loves all of us, his brothers, his sister. He loves this family.”
“Again, not the issue.”
“There are things… Things you don’t know about that we all chose to keep from you kids.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Brock told me. He told me what happened to Dale and Donny, what happened to Uncle Talon. It’s horrible. It made me throw up, Mom. But I’m an adult, and I can handle anything you toss at me.”
“Ava, I—”
We both jerk at a pounding on the front door. The dogs are outside or they’d be going crazy.
“See who that is, please,” Mom says.
Damn.
Who the hell is interrupting this now? She’s going to go lock herself in the bedroom, and I’ll never find out what’s going on.
“I think I’ll stay here,” I say.
“Go see who it is, Ava.”
“I stopped taking orders from you years ago, Mom.”
The pounding gets harder, stronger.
“Ava…”
Then—
“Ava! Are you in there?”
Fuck.
Brendan.
“Sounds like it’s for you,” Mom says.
I love the man, but why now? I turn and walk down the hallway toward the pounding. I open the door to find Brendan standing there, still wearing his bar apron.
“Your timing is impeccable,” I say dryly.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Did you find out anything else about Wendy Madigan?”
“No. I came straight here. Let’s go talk to your mother. Together.”
“She’s in her bedroom with my dad. My guess is the door’s locked.”
“Why?”
“I overheard them talking. It’s a long story.” I pour out what I can remember of the conversation.
“Family,” he says. “The cards didn’t steer you wrong, Ava. This all has something to do with your family dynamic and how you see yourself.”
“It would appear to.”
“Just remember who you are. You are Ava Steel, you’re a baker, and you’re beautiful and intelligent and hardworking. Talented and inspiring. You stand on your own two feet, and nothing you find out about your family will ever change that.”