Page 40 of Things We Hide from the Light
He threw a chunk of red-skinned potato across the table at me.
I volleyed back with a scoop of green beans.
“Boys,” Amanda warned.
Waylay gave me one of those small smiles that I prized. It was one thing to make a happy kid smile, but to pry one out of the girl who had a lot of reasons not to was like winning a gold medal.
“So seriously. Who wants to take Piper home with them?” I asked again.
“Oh, now, Nash. You know that wouldn’t be fair to that sweet little girl. She’s already obviously bonded with you,” Amanda pointed out.
After pie and coffee, the party broke up to a Patsy Cline song, one of my mom’s favorites.
Knox started on the dishes while Naomi went upstairs to supervise Waylay’s homework. Lou and Amanda volunteered to walk Liza J home. Piper whined pitifully at the front door as Kitty disappeared into the night.
I wanted to disappear too, but good manners wouldn’t let me leave without at least lending a hand. I headed back into the dining room and found Lina collecting empty dessert plates.
“Gimme those,” I said. “You round up the utensils.”
She set the dishes down on the table rather than handing them to me.
“So you and Marshal Graham seemed friendly this morning.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
The forks and knives she’d collected clattered as she dropped them on an empty platter. “Seriously?” Her eyes flashed as she crossed her arms. “What’s your problem with Nolan?”
My problem was that he was Nolan to her, not U.S. Marshal Graham.
“My problem is your palNolanis shadowing my ass. He followed me here. Hell, he’s probably parked out there in the driveway right now.”
She drummed dark red nails against the sleeves of her sweater. Hard and sharp over soft. “He’s not mypal. And you could have at least invited him in.”
The fuck I could have.
There was a crash in the kitchen followed by half a minute of swearing. “Why in the fuck are wet dishes so goddamn slippery? Where the fuck do we keep the broom?” Knox snarled.
“Jar times three,” Naomi yelled from upstairs.
“Sit,” I said.
Lina’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
I pulled out a chair, pointed to it. “I said sit.”
Waylon galloped into the room, plopped his ass on the rug at my feet, and looked around for a treat. Piper joined him, looking hopeful.
“Now you’ve done it,” Lina said.
Muttering under my breath, I dug out two of the treats I had in my pocket and gave one to each dog. Then I pulled out another chair and sat.
“Please s-i-t,” I said, gesturing to the empty chair.
She took her sweet time doing it, but she sat. “This isn’t an interrogation room, hotshot. And I’m not a suspect. Any relationship past or present between me and Nolan is none of your business.”
“Here’s where you’re wrong, Angelina. See, I don’t believe in coincidences, especially not when there’s a whole mess of ’em. You’ve never visited my brother in his hometown before. All of the sudden, you just up and decide to surprise him with an open-ended visit. Unlikely, but okay. You also show up after I get myself shot and right before Naomi and Waylay get taken. Again, could be just a coincidence.”
“But you don’t think so,” she said, folding her arms.
