On Skein of Death by Allie Pleiter

Author:Allie Pleiter [Pleiter, Allie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sort1
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

* * *

Frank hadn’t gotten clearance to remove a copy of the video from the bank yet, so Gavin and I made our way down the street in the other direction, toward the Collinstown branch of a major bank chain. After half a block, Gavin put a hand on my arm.

“Listen, Libby. I know this isn’t really the time, but Jillian’s got this thing on Wednesday and she somehow got it in her mind to . . .”

So it was this week. “I already know about the dress,” I replied, trying to give Gavin an understanding look. “And for what it’s worth, Jillian didn’t just get it in her mind. Mom planted it there.”

That halted Gavin’s hurried stride. “Rhonda came up with that?” He looked horrified as he connected the dots of what they were up to. Clearly, it disturbed him as much as it did me to know Mom was in on this little matchmaking scheme. Neither one of us was eager to be tag-teamed by those two.

I grimaced in sympathy. “I think it was a joint venture.”

Gavin shook his head as he resumed walking. “I’m so ticked at Tasha for dropping the ball on this.”

“Maybe it’s harder than it looks to dress shop from your cabana on the beach.” Why was I defending Tasha all of a sudden?

“Well, don’t feel obligated. You don’t have to help.” His face changed from annoyed to sheepish. “I mean, this is way out of my skill set, but I wouldn’t want you to feel backed into anything just because my ex is being a first-class . . .” His words trailed off in exasperation. I knew Gavin. He’d try mightily to provide the whole dress-shopping experience. And that was exactly why he’d fail miserably. This required a delicate balance of attention to detail and cool faux casualness. The thirteen-year-old version of “Oh, this old thing?” when hours had been spent to select the perfect outfit. I liked Jillian too much to put either of them through that.

And to be honest, despite the last-minute time frame, I found I didn’t really mind. The whole prospect actually felt like a pleasant diversion from the torments of Perle’s death. I might never get the chance to do this with a daughter of my own. And I wasn’t so long in the tooth that I couldn’t remember how important things like the perfect dress were to someone Jillian’s age. “Relax. I’ll do it. Gladly.”

He looked enormously relieved. “I’ll buy you dinner before the concert to say thanks.”

I smirked—only inwardly, of course. For all Mom’s bouts of confusion, sometimes the woman could be downright clairvoyant.

“You’re gonna have to come,” he admitted. “Jillian says so.”

“Oh, I figured that,” I lied. Mom would have such a field day learning how right she had been. She might have lost a lot of facts and timetable skills, but that woman’s human intuition could have been bottled and sold to the FBI.

We’d reached the bank, and Gavin stepped in front of me to open the bank door.

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