Pall in the Family (FF1) by Eastman Dawn

Author:Eastman, Dawn [Eastman, Dawn]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780425264270
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2013-08-06T07:00:00+00:00

16

Tish and Baxter had stormed out. Even the dog managed a glare over his shoulder as he left. I tried to downplay the whole episode to Seth, but he was too clever for that. This was due partly to my mother’s reiterating her disappointment in my behavior and partly to Vi’s persistent questions about what I had heard.

Seth and I finally left the house to visit our clients for the day. Tuffy joined us.

“So it never ends, huh?” Seth asked. He clicked his seat belt and settled Tuffy on his lap.

“What?”

“Parents dragging you down.”

“I guess it depends on the parents.” I hit the gas too hard and sprayed gravel as we pulled out of the driveway.

Tuffy sighed loudly and looked from me to Seth and back again. I made a mental note to schedule a grooming appointment for him. He was starting to resemble a mistreated Barbie doll with ratted hair and a lopsided ponytail.

For the next hour, I wrangled the boy and the dogs and argued with myself over what I should do. I felt horrible. I usually avoided Vi’s plots, but I had been so curious myself that I’d gone along with it. Now Tish was mad and hurt and I still didn’t know much more than I knew this morning. She had a secret, she was confused about what to do, and now she had animal psychics and ex-cops spying on her. Great.

* * *

That evening, I waited on the porch for Mac. I didn’t want to go through the whole chatting-with-the-family thing and figured he would be just as happy to avoid Vi’s questions. Of course, they weren’t subtle about the fact that they were watching from behind the curtains.

When he pulled up in his pickup truck, I hopped off the porch and went to meet him.

“Seems like old times,” he said as I buckled the seat belt. “You never could wait to get out of there.”

“It’s better now, but only a little.”

We chose safe topics of conversation on our way out of town. He told me about his time in Saginaw and the drug bust that had gone bad. He’d taken a bullet in his leg and was stuck with a cane until his strength improved. He wasn’t sure how long he would stay with the Ottawa County Sheriff’s Department but didn’t want to return to Saginaw. I kept quiet about my own troubles in Ann Arbor, saying only that I had six weeks left of my leave of absence. No talk of murder, séances, or psychics. As soon as we passed the city limits and headed north, I knew where he was taking me for dinner.

Grand Haven was not far, and the Lighthouse Restaurant sat right on the beach. The food was good, but the view was the big attraction. I hadn’t been there since Mac and I broke up.

It was obvious that things had changed when we pulled into the parking lot. The weather-beaten sign had been replaced with a carved wooden plaque, and the lot had been repaved and painted with marked parking spaces.

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