Page 6 of Den of Iniquity

“What about it?”

“It’s your senior year,” Mel said. “Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t you want to graduate with your friends?”

“They all have families,” he replied morosely. “I don’t have a family anymore because mine’s been blown apart. As for school? Once Covid hits, there probably won’t be any school. They’re talking about switching over to remote learning and doing everything online.”

“If that happens, maybe we could arrange for you to do your remote Ashland classes from here in Bellingham,” Mel suggested. “That way you could still graduate with your class.”

“Why, so my parents could show up and pretend we’re still one big happy family?” Kyle responded bitterly. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“If you stay with us, there will be rules,” Mel warned him, “rules and expectations.”

“That’s all right,” Kyle answered. “Rules and expectations sound like just what I need.”

That may have been the most surprising moment of the whole evening—the one when I realized that maybe my grandson had more common sense than both his parents put together. It was also when I understood that, although I had yet to make up my mind on the whole issue, seemingly Mel Soames had already made up hers. In other words, she and I were about to become parents together for the very first time.

“We’ll call your folks and talk things over in the morning,” she said.

“Thanks,” Kyle replied. “Maybe they’ll listen to you. They sure as hell don’t listen to me.”

Later, once Mel and I were home and in bed, she turned to me and said, “That was unexpected.”

Given the ground-shattering changes going on around us, the wordunexpectedbarely covered it.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“We have to take him in,” she said.

That was pretty unexpected, too. “Really?” I asked.

“What choice do we have?” she replied. “Where else is he going to go? He feels betrayed by both his parents. Initially he was fine with staying on in Ashland to finish the school year with his dad and Caroline, but now he’s not. I wonder what changed?”

“Me, too,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Tomorrow’s another day. We’ll get all this sorted.”

Chapter 3

Bellingham, Washington

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Sarah spent the first five years of her life as a mommy dog living in a bare-bones shed in a Palm Springs puppy mill. She’d had some socialization before she came to live with us but not much. She no longer freaks out at the sound of hair dryers or flushing toilets, but she doesn’t really trust the doggy door. She makes her needs known to me by fixing me with an unblinking stare, which means either (a) it’s time to eat or (b) it’s time to go out. In the mornings, however, when the stare tactic is a nonstarter because I’m still asleep, she gives me the cold nose treatment in my armpit. That works.

Knowing we had a visitor lurking in the guest room, I made my own pit stop in our en suite and put on a robe before venturing out into the rest of the house. Sarah wasn’t surprised when, on the wayto the front door, I made my customary detour into the kitchen long enough to start the coffee machine on its morning calisthenics. Our home is of the water view variety. That means the front door, the one that leads into the living room, is the one that opens out into the fenced front yard. The back door is the one everyone uses to enter and leave the house.

Since the phone charger is on the kitchen counter next to the coffee machine, I picked my phone up and checked for emails and texts that might have come in overnight. The first text, a clearly furious one from Kelly, was written in all caps:I AM COMING TO GET HIM. I WILL BE THERE BY ELEVEN!

The previous evening, when Mel had assured me that we’d get it all sorted, I believe she anticipated some kind of reasonable discourse among a group of calm, sensible adults. Kelly’s all-cap message made her sound a lot more like someone intent on a search-and-destroy mission rather than a civilized discussion. It made me feel as though what we were in for would be more like a cross betweenJerry SpringerandDr. Phil.

The second text was from our housekeeper who comes every Saturday. Fortunately for all concerned, she wasn’t coming today. With an irate Kelly on her way, that was a relief.

On weekends when Mel doesn’t have to rise and shine at the crack of dawn, I usually let her sleep in. She was still in the bedroom sawing logs, and I saw no reason to go back and wake her up only to tell her that a very pissed-off Kelly was on her way. With that in mind, I stuffed the phone in my pocket and turned my attention to the coffee machine. By the time Kyle ventured out of the guest room, I was on my second cup of coffee and working my crosswords.

“Morning,” I said.

He replied with a wary half grin.

“Coffee?” I asked.

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