Page 20 of Road Trip
He leaned back in the armchair and gave her a searching look. Maeve hated that she felt herself blushing under the intensity of his gaze.
At least she’d changed out of her jeans and T-shirt before leaving the house earlier. She’d pulled on a navy-blue skirt and a cotton print blouse and was even wearing slingback pumps. But her hair badly needed a cut and color, and the only makeup she wore was some ChapStick she’d found in her mother’s junk drawer.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
Maeve shrugged. “I suppose I’ll have to start job hunting. Just the prospect is exhausting. I’ve spent most of the last year taking care of Mom, and I’m absolutely drained.”
“Can’t you take a little time off, to regroup?”
She managed a half smile. “As it turns out, Mom had this cockamamie idea that she could leave enough cash for Therese and me to take a trip to Ireland. Together. You know, to dig up our family roots in the old country.”
She told him about Mary Helen’s coffee-can piggy bank.
He raised a sandy eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound all that crazy to me.”
“It’s impossible,” Maeve said. “We’ve got to get the house stuff settled. Get it cleaned up and rented out for the short term, so we can start paying down the mortgage Mom took out. And now, on top of everything else, I’ll have to start job hunting.”
He jotted something else on the legal pad. “All right then. I need to do some research into the statutes on elder abuse and mail fraud. And I’ll get in touch with your uncle Keith. He’s still at the drugstore, right?”
“Six days a week,” Maeve said. “I doubt he’ll ever retire.” She bither lip and looked away. “Um, Scott? I want you to know we don’t expect you to work pro bono. Right now I don’t know how I’ll manage it…”
“Don’t even. I know this is a really painful situation for you and your sister, but I’ve always thought there’s a special place in hell for these bloodsuckers who prey on the elderly. Personally, I can’t wait to get my teeth into this Brother Jerome dude.”
There was a quick knock at the door and the receptionist poked her head inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but your dad says he really needs you in the conference room with the Bradleys.”
Maeve recognized she was being dismissed. “Thanks again for seeing me today, Scott.”
“Anytime. And Maeve? About that trip to Ireland? I really think you should reconsider.”
CHAPTER 9
Therese eased herself onto a stool at the end of the bar. Pinkie’s was nearly empty this time of day; just a couple of wizened old-timers yakking away at a table near the front door, and a trio of thirty-something guys sitting a few stools down, arguing about whether the Georgia Bulldogs had a decent shot at an undefeated football season this year.
“Well, lookie what the cat dragged in.” Thad stood on the other side of the bar, a damp towel slung over his shoulder. He leaned forward on the bar. “How ya doin’? How was your mama’s funeral?”
“I’m okay. The funeral was about what you’d expect, if you knew Mary Helen Dunagin. Quite a production. Glad I made it, glad it’s over.”
“I always liked your mama. Whenever I’d go into the drugstore to pick up my grandma’s medicine, she’d slip me a Tootsie Pop or a Fireball. Nice lady. Whatcha drinking today, Therese?”
“You got any Blanton’s?”
He raised an eyebrow, but turned to the bar back to fetch the bottle. He poured a couple of fingers into a tumbler and gave her a questioning look. “Fancy, huh?”
“Make it a double. Throw in a couple rocks, too,” she told him.
Thad added the ice and pushed the glass across to her. “Anything else?”
“As a matter of fact, yeah. Are you on speaking terms with Wyllona this week?”
He shrugged. “I think she’s seeing some guy up there in New York.”
“And you aren’t seeing anybody down here?”
He grinned. “Not officially.”
“I need a favor, Thad.”
Therese extracted her phone from her purse and pulled up the camera roll. She paused on the series of photos she’d taken of Lady Geraldine’s portrait and slid the phone across the bar.
