Page 72 of The Last Grift
“You’re coming in too?” Gabe asked.
Lundin shrugged. “Just gonna make sure everything’s okay with Elton.”
“I think he would have said something to you, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Gabe was irritated that, after the past few days of working together to help Gordon MacDonald, Ranger Man hadn’t warmed up to him. Normally, he did not have to try this hard. And why wasn’t their truce enough for him anyway?
You wouldn’t appreciate him if he was easy, Chance.
Gabriel led the way, knocking the back of his bandaged hand against Elton’s doorframe. From the other side, he could hear talking, but the words were indistinguishable. The door was opened by a man Gabriel had never met before, and he took an involuntary step backward. Purposefully or not, Ranger Man blocked his escape.
“You must be Gabriel,” the stranger said. “Come inside.”
Still hesitating, Gabriel took in the newcomer. His dark suit was custom tailored. That and the expensive shiny leather shoes screamed lawyer. A person learned a great deal by keeping an eye on people’s shoes.
“Let the boy in, Shay,” a woman’s voice demanded. “We didn’t drive this far for you to block the doorway.”
Whoever this Shay was, he was a couple of years older than Gabriel but about the same height and build. Remarkably similar, actually. Rolling his eyes, the stranger moved out of his way. Gabriel peered inside, still hesitant to step across the threshold.
Sitting in the spot on the couch Gabriel had occupied only yesterday was an unfamiliar woman. She appeared to be around Elton’s age, although it was hard to gauge after eighty or so. She was tiny and bird-like, with a shock of pure white hair cut short so it curled around her ears, and her eyes glittered with sharp intelligence. Not a person to take lightly. Slowly, she rose to her feet, using a cane, Gabriel noted. Elton should take a lesson out of her book.
Ranger Man jammed a finger between Gabriel’s shoulder blades. “Inside,” he whispered.
Against his instinct—which was to flee—he took a single step into the living room. The woman drew closer to him, her walking stick thump-thumping against the carpet. When she was less than a foot away, she stopped and squinted up at Gabriel for what felt like the longest minute of his life.
“Another one,” she eventually said with a disgusted shake of her head. “That boy just couldn’t keep his pecker in his damn pants.”
Gabriel glanced over at Elton, who shrugged, comfortable in his recliner and obviously not concerned.
“Another what?” Gabe asked carefully. Did he want to know?
Without answering him, the anonymous woman turned back around and started toward the couch again. Gabriel thought he heard her muttering but couldn’t make out the words.
“Ah, anyone here care to explain just what the f— what’sgoing on?” Gabe asked. “Why have I been… inspected, for lack of a better word? Who are you?” The last bit was directed at both the lawyer and the woman.
Sitting again, the woman patted the cushion next to her with a gnarled hand. “Come, sit down next to me.”
Said the spider to the fly. You’re the fly here, Chance.
Gabriel caught a glance from the lawyer, who gave a nod that both encouraged Gabriel to comply and suggested that it would be much easier for him if Gabe went along with it. Whateveritwas. Elton cocked his head too, and even though Ranger Man was standing where he couldn’t see him, Gabriel was certain he was also wishing Gabe would just sit the fuck down.
She may have been old, but Gabe knew she was dangerous. And she was the one who held all the power in the room. The woman oozed the same kind of authority that Heidi had held.
Four men in the living room, and she had them all in the palm of her hand. Gabe had the vague thought that if his mother had been alive, she would either have hated her or joined her in some unholy union and ruled the world. With a sigh, he crossed the short distance and sat as he’d been directed to.
“Gabriel Karne, I suppose you are wondering who the hell I am?” She didn’t give him time to respond but instead held out a knobby hand which Gabe shook, feeling dazed. “I’m Claribel Delacombe. Your aunt, great-aunt if you need precision. Shay”—she pointed a boney finger at the man she’d brought along—“is one of your half brothers, also having been fathered by the useless lying piece of shit that was David Delacombe.”
“Claribel,” Shay admonished.
“I don’t want him thinking David was some kind of martyr because we both know he wasn’t anything of the sort.”
“Don’t mind Auntie Claribel,” Shay-the-lawyer said. “She doesn’t believe in sugar-coating anything.”
“I’m too old to take the time to nice it up for the new guy.”
“So, hey,” Lundin said quietly, “this seems to be a family thing. I’ll just let myself out.”
