Bucked (The Invincibles 6)

“Figured we should let him earn his keep rather than let him hang out in the stateroom, watching porn, and eating junk food.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered at Buck. “Nice to meet you again, Stella.”

“Wait a minute. Everyone else has an aka. What’s yours?”

“You don’t want to know,” said Vex, laughing.

“C’mon. Tell me.”

Smith had long hair like Buck but didn’t keep it tied back. When he looked over at me, it covered part of his eyes. “They call me Crash.”

I laughed out loud. “You’re joking.”

“Afraid not.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Okay, where should we start?” asked Buck.

“Someone should start going through her books. Check for dog-eared pages, notes of any kind, either written in them or loose. After that, start with the least obvious place you think someone might leave a clue, and work your way to the most obvious.”

I got sidetracked when I found Barb’s photo albums. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I’d cracked one open. I ran my finger over the picture of my mom and me, taken not long after she was diagnosed. She still looked perfectly healthy. No one would’ve ever guessed the havoc the disease would wreak on her body in the years that followed.

“Is that your mom?” Buck asked, looking over my shoulder.

“It is.”

“You look like her.”

I’d never thought so before, but now I could see the resemblance.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, darlin’, but Vex found something I think you should see.”

“Okay.” I closed the album, put it back in the bookcase, and followed Buck down the hallway to Nancy’s bedroom.

“What in the world?” I stepped in and walked over to the bed. “What is all this?”

“Bank statements.”

“Where were they? In the mattress?”

“Under it, yeah.”

“What made you look there?”

“Usually the first place a novice hides something. That and under a dresser drawer.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at one Vex handed me. “These amounts are staggering. Barb couldn’t have been paying her that much.”

“I doubt she was. I also found this.” Vex handed me a photo.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I was tempted to rip the thing into pieces.

“Who is that?” Buck asked.

“This is Nancy,” I said, pointing at a younger version of my aunt’s housekeeper then at the young woman standing next to her. “And that is Sally Hennessey.”