Bel, Book, and Scandal: A Belfast McGrath Mystery (Bel McGrath Mysteries) by Maggie McConnon

Author:Maggie McConnon [McConnon, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2017-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER Twenty-seven

Tweed’s voice let me know that he was happy to hear from me, and I was glad about that, our last meeting having taken such a weird turn. I told myself that whatever idiosyncrasies my family had, his was much stranger by a lot.

“I’m hoping we can get a do-over on our last meeting,” I said.

“I’d like that,” he said, his voice somewhat tentative but agreeable nonetheless. “Here’s the thing, Bel.”

And here it comes, I thought.

“Can we do it up here?” he asked.

I let out a mental sigh of relief. “Of course.”

“It’s just that I’m in the midst of my end-of-year accounting and inventory and things are crazy-busy right now.”

“I understand,” I said, and I did. Although we didn’t have anything approaching formal end-of-year accounting or inventory, there was sort of a buzz in the air at the Manor signifying that the year was coming to a close and a rethinking of some of our practices and habits needed to be reassessed. Or maybe that was just me. Everyone else seemed content to coast into the New Year with nary a thought of “best practices” or even the odd New Year’s resolution. “What works for you?” I asked. It was just past noon and I had completed my work for the day; I would head out in a bit to go to the egg farm, but otherwise my calendar was wide open.

“You’re not free tonight, are you?” he asked, his tentativeness simmering down, his voice becoming more relaxed.

“Well, I know there are some rules that say I shouldn’t say ‘yes,’ but yes, I’m free,” I said. According to Vashti, which I had skimmed after learning about it at the craft-beer place from Margaret, I learned that I should most definitely not immediately accept when a guy asked me out. The reasons were still unclear to me, but doing so was apparently a no-no.

“Screw the rules,” he said. “I close at seven. Let’s meet at my house and then we can decide where to go from there. Do you remember how to get there?”

“Give me the address again,” I said, jotting down the information.

There was a long pause after that and I wondered if he had hung up, the plan set and our meeting time and place arranged. He finally spoke.

“I know you met my father,” he said.

Now it was my turn to be quiet.

“It’s okay. I can explain,” he said. “I will explain.”

“I’d like you to explain,” I said. I realized I had some things that needed to be clarified from my side, too. “I can explain, too,” I said.

“Great. So seven thirty tonight. And we’ll both explain why…”

“We lied,” I said. Might as well call a spade a spade. I hung up. I was getting closer.

I did my errands and returned to my apartment to get cleaned up and dressed for a night in Wooded Lake. The door was unlocked, which wasn’t concerning because Mom came and went at her pleasure, leaving me “healthy” foods, which meant “things

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