Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Fair enough. I leaned back, still smiling. “Tess? Did you tell Donna about our grandmothers?”
“Yes,” Donna said, lowering her voice and leaning in. “I cannot believe they met for a secret breakfast.”
“They didn’t even drink their coffee.” Tessa nodded, eyes wide. “It was the weirdest thing. I’d give anything to see those two notes.”
“Me too,” I said. “Neither one will say a word about it.”
Donna tilted her head, putting two wings on her plate. “You don’t think the notes were to each other, do you?”
“That would be odd.” Tessa wrinkled her nose. “Remember that they read each other’s notes and then gave them back.”
“Yeah, and the notes were on the same stationery,” I said, thinking back. “They wouldn’t use the same kind if they were writing to each other.”
“No, they would not,” Tessa agreed, plucking nachos with beef onto her plate. She took a deep drink of wine, thinking it over. “I’ve actually thought about breaking into Nana’s house.”
My head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“I mean visiting,” she amended, eyes sparkling. “Just visiting. Maybe finding that purse. Or the note.”
“I thought the same thing,” I admitted.
Donna shook her head. “You know they would’ve hidden them.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I said. “Those notes didn’t stay in those purses for long. They’re both too smart.”
“What do you think is going on?” Donna asked, scanning the bar.
I followed her gaze automatically, checking for eavesdroppers. We could never be too careful, especially when someone like Jolene O’Sullivan might be nearby with her endless gossip column fodder. “I don’t know,” I murmured. “But whatever it is, they’re keeping it close.”
Tess’s brow furrowed in thought. “You don’t think it has anything to do with the sabotaged pie, do you?”
“I doubt it,” I said. “That wouldn’t make sense.”
Donna exhaled. “Yeah, but with our family? Who the heck knows?”
The three of us fell quiet for a moment, the noise of the bar filling in the silence. The hum of conversation, the crack of pool balls, the low murmur of sports commentary from the TV behind the bar all blended into one familiar sound. I chewed thoughtfully on a delicious barbeque flavored wing.
Tessa finally broke the quiet. “If those two are plotting something, I want to know.”
“Same,” I said.
Donna grinned. “Good. Because if Nana ends up in jail for food tampering, I’m bailing her out. You’re doing the legal work.”
“Deal.”
We all clinked glasses and drank, the sound of rain still pounding against the windows.
Whatever the grandmothers were hiding, I’d find out. One way or another.
The conversation drifted then, easy and familiar. I relaxed into the rhythm of it with my sisters, the warmth of the bar, and the scent of fried food and wood polish. The rain outside hit the windows in steady sheets, but inside, the atmosphere was cozy and golden.
A shadow crossed the table.
“Well, if it isn’t the Albertini trio,” a deep, lilting voice said.
I looked up and blinked. “Cormac Coretti.” Was he following me?
Chapter 14
Cormac smiled, and the grin hit full wattage. “That’s a childhood nickname, isn’t it? You three are still known as the Albertini trio.”
I tilted my head. “You’ve been doing your research.”
“Not at all,” he said, voice smooth and amused…and British.
He looked infuriatingly good in dark jeans, masculine boots, and a deep green cable-knit sweater that made his eyes even greener. Rain still clung to the shoulders of his leather jacket, glinting under the bar’s dim light.
“The three of you,” he went on, “are spoken of quite fondly over in the valley.”
Donna lifted her wine glass, cool and appraising. “Did you find our grandmother’s silver boxes?”
His gaze warmed. “Not yet,” he said easily, “but I’m working on it.”
“Why?” Donna asked, chin lifting. “Just for the reward money?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I’d like to see the map on the bottom, but yes, the reward money’s a good incentive.”
“We’re investigating you, you know,” I said lightly, watching his reaction.
He smiled again. “That so? Hard to find much, I imagine.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You don’t leave much of a trail.”
“I like to go where the wind takes me.” He didn’t look like a man who went anywhere the wind wanted. No. He looked grounded, solid, and deliberate. Maybe with just enough fire to be dangerous.
For one unguarded second, my mind drifted to places it shouldn’t—Irish charm, dark eyes, rough hands. Aiden Devlin. Another man with a bit too much fire and a penchant for moving. Would he ever really settle down? I caught myself and blinked hard.
“You all right?” Cormac asked softly.
“Just fine,” I said too quickly.
“Excellent.” His attention shifted to Donna. “Miss Albertini, may I have this dance?”
She frowned. “Dance?”
He gestured toward the bar speakers. “Can’t you hear the music?”
Donna paused. “No.”
“I can,” I said, smiling into my glass. “There’s country music playing. It’s pretty mellow, under all the chatter.”
Tessa’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked between them. “Go on, Donna. It’s just one dance.”