“No, but when I do, I’ll let him know how glad I am to see him.”
“I think . . .” Lanny began as he stood up.
“Yeah, we should go,” Pilar said, and they both looked pointedly at Shamus, who hadn’t moved.
The boy was tapping on his cell phone. Within seconds, he handed the phone to Chelsea.
She was still glaring at Eli, her eyes angry, and she had to read the phone twice before she saw it. She looked at Shamus. “Is this real?”
Shamus gave a nod, then stood up and closed his sketchpad.
“Thanks a lot,” Chelsea said and returned his phone to him. “I’ll get dressed and . . .” When she looked at Eli, the anger returned to her face.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled at her. “Because if it has to do with this case, I’m not going to allow you to—”
“Allow me? Allow me?!”
Lanny got Pilar and Shamus out of the house quickly.
Inside, Chelsea, still glaring at Eli, said, “Are they gone?”
“Yeah.” His shoulders relaxed. “Are there any more pancakes? And what was on the kid’s phone?”
“A couple of them are on the stove, and it was the Twitter Road on the phone. Shamus—that darling child—asked somebody where Abby was going to be today and was told that her mom is dropping her and Scully off at the outlet mall at eleven. Poor kid is to pick out her dress with the help of a computer geek.”
Eli was looking out the window at the car parked in front. Shamus was in the backseat, while Lanny and Pilar were quietly talking by the front.
Smiling, Shamus raised his hand in farewell. “The kid knows our fight was an act to get rid of them.”
“I think Pilar does too, but she wants time alone with Lanny. She’s talking about moving here.”
“So you said. The truth is that I think you should stay here today. I bet you can get your nails done here in Edilean.”
“I’m sure I could. Then you could help nerdy Scully with Abby’s prom dress. Act
ually, it might be worth it to see what you two would come up with. My guess would be a lacy collar and little ruffles on the cuffs of the long sleeves. And of course a floor-length skirt.”
“I think that sounds great.”
“If you’re a Sister Wife. Come on, let’s get dressed and go to the mall.”
Eli was on the couch with his laptop, pretending to read what the general had sent him, while he waited for Chelsea to get dressed. This morning it hadn’t been easy to act unconcerned when he’d found out Pilar had told Chelsea that he wasn’t sleeping. But the second Chelsea was out of the room, Eli had started making calls. He wanted to know how serious all this with Orin Peterson was.
First he called Frank. So far, there was no word about the papers. The shredded documents were still being put together on the computers.
Next he talked to his mother. She’d met her first husband—Eli refused to call Leslie Harcourt his
father—in Edilean and she might know something.
Miranda was a wealth of information. She’d not kept in touch with anyone in Edilean, but she had read every story in the news about the small town.
“A few years ago there was a major scandal in town. A man ended up getting killed and there were arrests. It had to do with some old paintings.” Miranda took a breath. “The important part of all this is that a man named Mike Newcomb is a law enforcement agent and he handled it all. He lives in Edilean. You think he knows what you do for a living?”
On his end of the phone, Eli smiled. Mike ran the gym where he worked out, and he’d always felt that there was more to him than just owning a gym. But Mike had never even hinted about himself—
another thing Eli liked. “Mike is good friends with the local sheriff so, yeah, I’m sure he knows all about what I do.”
“Good!” Miranda said. “I don’t want you to be alone.” She paused. “How are you and Chelsea?”