“She thinks she gave birth to the son of the Most Fascinating Man in the World,” Odelia said, patting her dad on the chest, his doctor’s coat nice and neat once more.
“Come again?” he said.
In a few brief words she explained what had happened at the Hampton Cove Star that morning. Tex plunked himself down on the edge of his desk, looking stunned. “She thinks she gave birth to a third child but she’s not entirely sure? That’s crazy!”
“That’s not all. Scarlett Canyon claims she is the mother of Burt’s child. Though her memory is equally fuzzy.”
“Crazy town,” muttered Tex, wiping his brow once more. “Is that why she didn’t show up for work this morning?”
“Yeah, she had a hot date with Burt.”
“She could have told me.”
“You haven’t exactly been on speaking terms, Dad.”
“That’s true,” he admitted.
Ever since Tex took her credit cards away—or his credit cards, actually—Gran had been ghosting him. Tough to do when you work together, but Gran had managed. Slipping him little pieces of paper and talking to the wall whenever she needed to address him.
“You think she’s going to quit working here?”
“If she can get Philippe Goldsmith to believe her claim she might,” Odelia said. “Burt’s ‘widow’ stands to come into a nice chunk of change, if Philippe is to be believed.”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” said Dad, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe this Philippe is taking your grandmother off our hands and she’ll live with the guy in Vegas from now on.”
“Colorado.”
“Colorado is fine. I can live with Colorado. Mexico would have been better. Or Africa.”
“I’m not sure Mom will like her mother moving away.”
Dad humorously slapped the desk. “There’s always a catch, isn’t there?”
“She’ll be back, Dad.”
“Not what I wanted to hear,” he said with a grin, then pressed a kiss to her brow. “And now you better scoot, young lady. Before my patients chase you out of here, feathered and tarred.”
“Maybe you should call the temp agency. At least until Gran comes to her senses.”
“Maybe I should,” he conceded, and walked her out.
Next stop was the library, where Odelia’s mother was stacking books in neat rows onto a library cart. “Oh, hey, honey,” Mom said. “Have you seen your grandmother? She was supposed to arrive early today. Help me prepare for the lecture tonight.” Mom, who was the spitting image of her daughter, pressed her hands into her lower back and arched backwards, grimacing. “Ooph. My back is killing me today.”
“Lecture? What lecture?”
“The Most Interesting Men in the World are in town. They’re doing some type of conference thing at the Seabreeze Music Center. I managed to snag them for an Evening with the Most Interesting Men in the World. Only it looks as if it might get canceled.”
“Of course. The explosion.”
“Explosion? What explosion?”
For the second time she told the story of the explosion that had taken the life of the Most Fascinating Man in the World.
“Bummer,” said Mom. “He was supposed to be the star of the evening. Not to mention the emcee.” She bit her lip. “Maybe the others will still show up?”
“They’re all being questioned as we speak, and it looks like the Most Compelling Man might be a suspect in the whole thing.”
Mom nodded knowingly. “Jealousy. Figures. They don’t seem to be able to agree on anything. Not the topics of conversation, not the seating arrangements or the order of introductions—not even the name of the evening. I wanted to call it ‘An Evening with Some Very Interesting Men,’ but they said that would favor the Most Interesting Man in the World, who, coincidentally, couldn’t make it. Apparently there’s a pecking order of Most Interesting Men with the Most Interesting Man numero uno and Burt Goldsmith a close second. Maybe I should call the whole thing off now. Quite frankly it’s not worth the aggravation.”
“You haven’t heard the worst part yet,” Odelia told her. “You have a second brother.”
Like her father, Mom plunked down on the first solid object she found, in her case the library cart, disturbing the neatly placed books and dumping them all to the carpeted floor. “What?” she asked, pressing a hand to her heart.
As Odelia told the story, the thought occurred to her that this was almost like an episode of The Jerry Springer Show. “And since Gran hasn’t shown up at Dad’s office there’s a good chance she’ll be leaving us soon to go and live in Burt Goldsmith’s mansion in the Centennial State, sending us postcards from time to time while she lives it up out there.”
“Oh, dear,” said Mom. “How did your father take it?”
She wanted to say Dad was over the moon but that seemed inappropriate. “He’s concerned about you and Alec. The news of this third sibling must be tough on you guys.”
Mom raised an eyebrow. “Tough? Either your grandmother has finally gone off her rocker or she’s in this for the money. And if she is, the woman is dead to me.”
Odelia was surprised by the resolute tone in her mother’s voice. “I’m sure she’ll come to her senses. She always does.”
“Dead!” Mom exclaimed, getting up. “After all that we’ve done for her? Leaving us high and dry? She can join her newly acquired grandson in Colorado and choke!”
“Um, that seems kind of harsh, Mom.”
Mom swept up an arm. “She needed support after my dad died? We gave it to her. She needed a place to stay after it turned out Dad had gambled away the house? We took her in. She wanted a job so she could stay active and earn some extra money? We gave her two jobs! And now this!”
She was now stocking the shelves with Nora Roberts books at such a rate and with such fury the entire cabinet shook. Mom was usually a soft-spoken and gentle person but now she resembled Lizzie Borden before taking up the ax and chopping down her relatives.
“I, um—do you need help? I mean, now that Gran probably won’t show up?”
Mom planted a hand on her hip. “I’m sorry, honey. But it’s been one of those days.”
Yup. One of those days where you find out your mother secretly had a second son. Or not. “I’ll just put these away, shall I?” she suggested, and pushed the cart away from her mother before she bodily lifted it up and hurled it through the large plate glass window.
And as she was collecting more returned books and stocking the shelves, she said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you but I took the cats to Vena’s.”
“Uh-huh,” said Mom without much enthusiasm from the next aisle.
“She squirted some topical gel on their necks and gave me a flea comb.”
“Mh.”
“She wasn’t sure about a flea collar but the poor creatures are so riddled with fleas I’m going to have them wear them for a while. Only a couple of days. Until they’re free of the pests. And I’ll have to vacuum the carpets, the floors, the bed, the sofa, wash the sheets…”
“That’s great, honey,” her mother said distractedly, probably still fuming. Odelia could hear the tack-tack-tack of books being stacked on the rack. It sounded like gunfire.
“You should probably do the same.”
“Mh.”
Odelia heaved a sigh. Looked like Mom was a goner for now. At least until she got what she perceived as Gran’s betrayal out of her system. Which could take a while. And as she filed a Debbie Macomber Christmas novel under the letter M, she thought about what Max had said. Burt Goldsmith had a cat. A cat that had gone missing. If Max could find out where Burt’s cat was holed up and talk to her, there was a lot he could find out.
She suddenly remembered the conversation about her and Chase having babies and smiled to herself. It wasn’t just Mom who could get worked up. Her cats did, too. As if she and Chase were ever going to have babies. Hah. Just the thought was ridiculous.