The trip through the mall ended with her packing five heavy duty cots, foam mattresses, blankets and pillows into three carts. Tyson and John helped push the heavier one. The woman at the front asked if they were going camping and Juliette could only smile, because she could think of no answer. It wasn’t until she was hit with the total that she realized she hadn’t thought her plan out well enough. Mind lost in thoughts of Killian, she hadn’t done her normal, diligent shopping. The one that involved price checking and comparing. There was no way she had enough.
She started to open her mouth when Tyson handed over a familiar, black card to the cashier, who happily took it before Juliette could get her wits about her.
“I know that card!” Juliette burst out, glowering accusingly at Tyson. “What are you doing with it?”
“We were asked to hold on to it in the event that you would need it,” Tyson said as though reciting something he’d read.
“Unbelievable,” Juliette muttered. “I told him I didn’t want the thing.”
The cashier looked uncertainly from Juliette to Tyson, the card trembling slightly between her fingers.
“So … would you like to use a different—?”
“No,” Juliette grumbled miserably, knowing full well her card would definitely not cover the cost. Plus, she had promised the men proper sleeping arrangements. “It’s fine. But I still don’t want it,” she told Tyson, who said nothing.
When it was time to sign, Tyson scribbled something unintelligible across the slip and passed it back to the cashier. They loaded their things back into the carts and left the mall.
“We need to make a run to the store,” she told the two. “If that’s all right?”
“Yes ma’am,” John said as he and Tyson packed their purchases into the back of the SUV.
It turned out that she would need Killian’s ten grand credit card a second time that day. With five grown men in the house, plus Juliette, Vi and Mrs. Tompkins, her normal tiny grocery bill had blossomed to digits she would never have thought possible if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. The SUV was stuffed in all manner of places, like a game of Tetris until there was just enough room for the three of them to sit, and even then, Juliette was forced to put her feet up on a case of Mac and Cheese.
“Have you heard anything from Killian or Frank?” she asked Tyson as they drove home.
Tyson shook his head. “No ma’am.”
“Do his meetings normally take this long?”
“I wouldn’t know, ma’am.”
Not sure what else to do, she sat back and watched as the city morphed into the quiet of the suburbs. The children were just getting home from school when they finally turned up her street. Phil’s BMW was parked in the driveway, a clear indication that Vi had come straight home rather than go anywhere with her friends … again. It was becoming a habit that was beginning to concern Juliette. It was as odd as the other subtle little changes she wasn’t sure what to do with.
Grabbing several items, she hopped out and hurried inside. The two men from the van, Javier and Laurence, had set up camp in the front room. They had pushed a plastic fold out table against the bay window overlooking the street and sat taking notes. No doubt they knew more about her neighbors than even she did. Neither glanced up when Juliette marched in and made a straight line to the kitchen in the back.
Vi was there, bent over the island, listening to Mrs. Tompkins as the woman went on about some boy she’d known as a girl. The thing that perplexed Juliette beyond reasoning was the fact that Vi was actually listening. No. She was smiling and listening. There wasn’t a sneer or insult in sight.
Across the room, standing straight and immobile, was Phil with his salt and pepper hair, kind blue eyes and built frame. He wore the same navy suit as all of Killian’s men, but he had a folded, white, napkin tucked into the breast pocket of his blazer. He stood watching the scene with a sort of amusement the others never showed. Granted, the others didn’t show much of any emotion. Not even Frank. But Phil had laugh lines around his eyes and a perpetual sort of grin around his mouth. He looked more like someone’s really handsome father than a bodyguard.
“Hey,” Juliette said, taking her bags to the counter and setting them down. “You’re home.”
Vi shrugged. “I had homework.”
It didn’t matter how many times she heard it, the phenomenon never failed to make her want to check Vi’s forehead for a temperature.
“So, did you do it? Your homework.”
Vi gave a brisk bob of her head. “Yup.”
“I watched her do it,” Mrs. Tompkins vouched, kneading a large ball of dough.
Impressed, but severely disturbed, Juliette nodded. “Well, great! I bought groceries so I think I’ll start on supper.”
“You?” Vi blurted, darting up. “You’re going to make supper? Like yourself?”
Juliette scowled. “I have made supper before.”
Vi spun towards Phil. One finger shot out and jabbed straight at Juliette.
“She’s trying to poison us. Tackle her, Phil.”
The lines around Phil’s mouth deepened in the ghost of a smile, but he didn’t speak.
Juliette sputtered. “What?”
Vi speared her hips with her fists. “Do you even remember how to cook?”
“I can cook!” Juliette protested, as John and Tyson shuffled in carrying more bags. They dumped them down in front of the island and trudged out to get the rest. “I’ve cooked before.”
“The last thing you made was pasta and it smelled like burnt feet.”
“I could make a chicken casserole,” Mrs. Tompkins offered.
“No!” Vi and Juliette shouted on unison.
“Thank you,” Juliette added quickly. “But you’ve already done so much.”
Mrs. Tompkins went back to her dough.
“We should order pizza,” Vi decided. “We haven’t had it in ages.”
It was true. Juliette couldn’t even remember the last time they ordered anything.
“But I just spent a fortune on groceries!” she protested.
Vi shrugged. “So? It’s food. It’s not like it’s going to go to waste. We’ll just put it all away and order pizza tonight.”
It wasn’t the wisdom behind the rationality that convinced her. It was the almost cuteness of her sister’s hopeful face when Vi puckered her bottom lip and did that doe-eyed begging thing that was impossible to ignore.
“Fine!” Juliette muttered. “But only tonight and only because you did your homework without a fuss … again.”
With a squeal, Vi bolted from the room, yelling something about putting in the call. Phil started to follow her, but Juliette stopped him.
“What’s going on with her?” she asked.
“Ma’am?”
He had a nice voice, she thought. Masculine and deep.
“Well, I know my sister and that is not her,” Juliette said, motioning with the jerk of her chin in the direction her sister had taken. “Did you sell her to aliens?”
Phil gave a silent chuckle. “No ma’am.”
“If you did, you can tell them to keep her. I like this one better.”
With an inclination of his head, he followed Vi into the next room. Juliette went to finish helping John and Tyson bring in the groceries. Most of it had been brought in and left on the kitchen floor, but there was still the bedding to haul in. Then there was the process of instructing the men to shove the dining room table to one corner and set the cots up in its place in a makeshift bedroom. She let them sort out who got which bed and where they wanted to set up while she put the groceries away.
Forty five minutes later, the pizza arrived. The doorbell rang and it was like a bomb went off as everyone scrambled into position. Javier moved to the door as Laurence shifted to brace in the doorway between the foyer and the living room with his gun drawn. Tyson took his place next to Juliette as John stood on the threshold of the kitchen. Everyone had a gun.
“Is that necessary?” Juliette demanded of no one in particular.