Can't Buy Me Love (Sinclair Sisters 3)

“I?

??m sorry, Dad.” Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked at Agnes. “I only wanted to meet the woman who might become my stepmum.”

Stepmum? A shudder went through Agnes. Oh, hell no. She was shutting this down. Right now.

“I’m not your dad’s girlfriend, so you don’t have to worry about me becoming your stepmother.” The girl looked weirdly disappointed, which twanged Agnes’ hardened heartstrings like someone playing an out-of-tune guitar inside of her. “I will give you some advice though. If you’re going to fake dark circles, don’t use a shadow with a shimmer. And you might want to enroll in some acting classes. Otherwise, having an ex-cop for a dad will seriously scupper any future cons you run.”

“Will you stop encouraging my granddaughter to rebel and explain exactly what I’m supposed to have stolen,” Shona demanded.

“It’s not encouragement. I’m giving constructive criticism.” It was clear that Logan had inherited his even temper from his father. “And she needs it. I was faking illness better than that by the time I was five.” To her horror, Darcy looked awestruck. “No.” She pointed at the kid. “I’m not teaching you how to do it right.”

“I should think not,” Shona snapped before scowling at Logan. “You’ve got two minutes to explain what’s going on before I leave.”

“I think I can help with that,” Dougal said as he made a dramatic entrance. Today’s ensemble consisted of purple tartan trousers, a purple shirt, and a green waistcoat. The sight made Agnes feel nauseous.

His dog ran in on his heels and headed straight for Darcy, who started cooing over it.

“Dougal,” Jean simpered, batting her eyelashes at him.

His cheeks went red, and he blustered for a second or two. “Jean, it seems you have been stealing from my store cupboard over a period of months, if not years. Empty your bag.”

Sharing a look of confusion with her friends, Jean upended her bag over the coffee table in front of them. Several small shampoo and conditioner bottles fell out.

“They stopped me before I got to the soap,” she explained to her fellow crooks.

Wasn’t anyone taking this seriously? “This is no laughing matter,” Agnes said. “You’ve been picking the lock and helping yourself to the hotel’s sundries. That’s a serious offense.”

“You picked the lock?” Shona said. “I thought you had a key.”

“I forgot it one time. Picking locks hasn’t gotten any easier since the time we tried to get into Lake’s shop. Even after watching all those YouTube videos on how to do it. Maybe I need better lock picks.”

“For goodness’ sake,” Agnes exploded, swapping out the words she wanted to say in deference to the kid’s presence. “You’re stealing from us, and you’re worried about the quality of your picks?”

“We aren’t stealing,” Margaret said to Dougal. “We’ve had an arrangement since you and Jean were an item. Remember, we told you we liked the tiny bottles, and you said that we could help ourselves at cost? We pay every month.”

“Aye.” Jean held up a plain white envelope. “In cash, because you said charging us would make accounting awkward.” She tossed the envelope onto the table, where everyone stared at it for a minute.

“Dougal?” Agnes said at last.

The hotel owner cleared his throat, his face a fluorescent red. “I, um, assumed that arrangement was only in place for the duration of our…dalliance.”

When Logan made a strangled noise, Agnes shot him an irritated glance, only to find that he was suddenly fascinated by the books on her shelf.

“But, Dougal,” Heather said, “how could you think the arrangement was over when we pay you every month?”

He tugged at that damn waistcoat again, making Agnes want to take a pair of scissors to it. “I haven’t received any money since Jean and I separated.”

“Saying it like that makes it sound as though I was paying you for services rendered,” Jean said with a wink.

Logan coughed and ran a hand down his face.

“Who do you give the money to?” Agnes tried to keep the discussion on track. It was like trying to herd kittens.

The women shared a look. “Why, Bernadette, of course.”

Agnes took a deep breath and shouted, “Bernadette, get in here!”

A few seconds later, Bernadette burst through the door. “Yes?” she said, smiling nervously at everyone in the room. With her shoulders up around her ears, she looked like a terrified puppy. And, in a weird twist of fate, both her makeup and the streak of color in her hair matched Dougal’s outfit perfectly.