She grabs her phone from her pocket and dials the number on the official-looking card complete with the gas company’s address and logo. She speaks to Blake and her eyes go wide. A moment later, she disconnects. “Come in, please.” She backs up and allows me to enter the house.
I walk inside, finding myself in the center of a towering foyer with a fancy chandelier above my head that would make a good weapon, should one need one. It might not be how most people think of fancy lighting, but it works for me. I follow the woman, who hasn’t introduced herself or asked for my name, through an archway to find an open-concept living room with expensive, Regency-style furnishings that scream “grandma.”
The woman who I know to be Celia Rodriquez, the housekeeper of five years, motions toward a doorway that leads to a closed kitchen. “I’ll need to step outside as well.”
“There’s a door off the kitchen.”
I nod and head for the kitchen, aware of Celia’s need to leave to pick up her kids. She hurries down a hallway, which means she’ll be updating Gigi on my presence. She’s headed toward what our blueprints show to be an office. I walk into the kitchen, set down my toolbox and crack the kitchen door to the backyard to find my job just got easier. Not only is a fire crackling in a massive stone fireplace, but Gigi and Danielle, Harper’s mother, are standing in front of it while Celia, who clearly tracked them down via the office patio door, tells them about my presence.
The chat with Celia is short and she departs, which means she’ll be coming back here in about five minutes. “Answer me, Gigi,” Danielle demands. “Did you really help convince Eric to come here?”
“I didn’t convince him,” Gigi snaps. “He hates me. Harper convinced him to come here. Your daughter knows we need help even if you don’t.”
“We don’t need help,” Danielle says.
Gigi laughs. “Are you playing dumb or are you really that stupid?”
“My daughter is smitten with him. He’s rich and good looking.”
“Like my son that you married? Sounds like you’re two of a kind. Mother and daughter.”
“Stop being a bitch,” Danielle snaps. “Stop. I love your son. I’m protecting him, and bringing Eric here doesn’t protect him.”
“You seem very afraid of Eric. Why is that?”
“Your son doesn’t want Eric here.”
“Eric is my son’s child. He’s my grandchild.”
“Eric’s our enemy.”
“Seems to me none of us know who our real enemies are, now do we?”
“Why does that feel like a threat?” Danielle quips back.
“Why do you see threats that no one else sees? But you want a threat,” Gigi adds. “I might be old, but I protect what’s mine. Everything you think is yours has always been mine.”
Footsteps sound behind me and I shut the sliding door to face Celia. “All clear in here. I was about to head outside.” I don’t wait on her to reply. I reach for the door again, only to have it open as Danielle, an older version of Harper, runs smack into me.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m—” She blinks up at me. “I just need to get by.”
I step back as she swipes at her cheek, as if hiding
tears, and then darts away. I hit a button on my phone that sends a message to my man outside the house. He’ll follow Danielle. I’m here. I’m going to listen in and find out what Gigi does next.
I turn to look at Celia. “I’ll be fast.”
She nods. “I’ll be back in a minute to check on you.” She quickly follows Danielle.
I take the freedom and exit to the backyard and Gigi has her back to me, and thanks to poor hearing, she doesn’t know I’m here. She sits in a chair by the fire and makes a call. “I need to speak to you,” she says. “Where are you? Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
She disconnects and just sits there. And continues to sit there as if she knows whoever she called will call her back. I need to know who she called. I enter the kitchen, shut the door, and text Blake: Who did Gigi just call?
His answer is instant: Kingston Senior.
I frown. Kingston Senior is supposed to be pissed that Eric was brought into this. Why did Gigi just call him like the two of them have a secret? Like they’re working a plan? Are mother and son behind the attack on Harper and the set-up of Eric for the murder?
Fuck.