Page 27 of Kiss Me Now
Well, I wasn’t going to find it here in Caps. When the waiter returned with a fancy bag, our dinners packaged inside, I accepted it and left with a word of thanks and a large tip. The guy deserved hazard pay after surviving the drama we’d served up.
I needed to think before going back to Gran’s. I took one of the country roads leading out of Creekville, the car quiet, my mind racing faster than the wheels. It all came back to the same thing: I could believe Brooke if Gran weren’t changing her will. But that was irrefutable proof that Brooke was a schemer.
It made sense, really. The fresh-faced gardener didn’t fit the profile for someone who would pull off the kind of scams I’d uncovered. But the sophisticated woman I’d picked up for dinner was a different story. She’d answered the door looking so beautiful and polished that it had startled me into silence. Cute had become sexy. But her warmth had also turned chilly. The woman who had answered the door was one I could easily imagine seducing a senator and walking away with a payoff.
I’d have to dig deeper to uncover proof beyond the circumstantial evidence.
Good thing that was my specialty.
I turned the car toward Gran’s, and by the time I pulled into her driveway, the porch light burned, but the rest of the house was dark. I’d have to talk to her in the morning and break her heart with the truth about Brooke, but I’d do it a hundred times if it kept Gran safe.
“Ian Davis Greene, youcome down here right now.”
I swam up from sleep to the sound of Gran’s voice calling from the bottom of the stairs. Even with my door shut, I could hear her clearly.
“Now,” she repeated, and thirty-three years old or not, I knew better than to make her say it one more time.
I grabbed the UVA shirt from the chair beside me and pulled it on even as I stumbled out to face angry Gran. “Good morning, Gran.”
“It most certainly is not,” she snapped. “What did you do to my poor Brooke?”
I reached the bottom of the stairs and blinked down at her, still fuzzy from sleep. I hadn’t yet marshalled the arguments I’d meant to make to Gran about why Brooke was bad news. “Can I get some coffee before we do this?”
“No. You may not.”
I nodded and sank down on the bottom step so I wasn’t towering over her.
“She was supposed to meet me in the garden this morning, but she wasn’t there.” Gran glared at me. “That’s very unlike her, Ian. Very. So after fifteen minutes I popped over to check on her. She says she won’t set foot in the garden until you go back to DC.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Proba—” She broke off and glared at me, her hands going to her hips. Uh-oh. “What is wrong with you, child? Brooke Spencer is constant sunshine and now she’s afraid to come play in my garden because of you. I repeat: what did you do?”
“I know you like her, Gran, but she’s not who she says she is.”
Gran’s eyes narrowed. “That young woman living next door isn’t Brooke Spencer?”
“No, I mean, that’s her name, but she’s not the innocent, helpful neighbor she pretends to be.”
“Are you trying to tell me I’m a bad judge of character?”
“I have proof.”
“This I have to hear.” Gran didn’t look like she was predisposed to believe a word that came out of my mouth.
“Coffee.”
“Come on.”
I trailed her into the kitchen but waved her into a chair when she headed for the coffee pot. “I’ve got it, Gran.” I poured hers just like she liked it, two sugars and a healthy dollop of cream. “I’ve been looking into Brooke this week.”
“Why?”
“Because I think she’s taking advantage of you.”
“That’s insulting to my intelligence and judgment. I think the only time I have ever been wrong about a person’s character in my life is right this second, where I’m calling into question whether you have the common sense God gave a goat.”
“She puts up a good front. I think it’s why she’s been so effective in fleecing her string of victims without ever drawing the notice of the authorities.”
