Relative Chaos (17 page)

The last thing I needed was more conflict in my life. I quickstepped toward the front door, hoping to escape Featherstone's notice. He and the kid stood facing the open garage, but their voices
carried. I could tell they were discussing the car parked inside-an
ancient, dust-coated yellow Impala convertible.

"Car belongs to me now," Featherstone said. "End of story"

I stopped walking to catch the kid's reaction.

"C'mon, man," he said. "Your grandma promised me the wheels."

Featherstone grabbed the garage door handle and rolled the door
down. "That promise is as good as the paper it's written on. You have
something in writing?"

The kid backed off, and I got a look at his reddening complexion.
Girls probably thought he was cute with his long hair and pierced
eyebrow. He tried to stare Featherstone down, and for a second I
thought he might throw a punch. Featherstone didn't act concerned.
Then he spotted me and seemed to forget about the kid.

"Nice of you to show up," he said. "You plan to work today?"

The kid waited, watching us, apparently not ready to give up on
what he'd come for.

"I had an emergency," I said. "Didn't take long."

"Your cohort have an emergency too? I'm paying you people
good money to get this job done, not to run around town"

I wondered myself why McCall wasn't here, but Featherstone's
attitude irritated me. I marched over to him.

"The job will get done," I said evenly. "There's no need to be rude
to me, my cohort, or to this young man" I turned to the kid and
smiled. "Hi. I'm Poppy."

"Deke," he said. "I work over at the Chevron."

"Nice to meet you, Deke."

Featherstone cleared his throat. "Maybe I was rude, but you
wouldn't like dealing with these people either."

"What people?" I looked around and didn't see anyone except
Deke.

"People trying to get something for nothing," Featherstone said.
"It's amazing the house wasn't looted before I got here."

Blanca Sandoval must have hit him up for the silver tea set. Or
maybe there were others I didn't know about wanting to get their
hands on Ida Featherstone's things.

"Look, man," Deke said, "I'm not trying to pull anything. Your
grandma gave me the freakin' car."

"No, she didn't," Featherstone said, his voice level. "The car is in
my garage. I'm not giving it away. Doesn't matter how many hours
you claim to have spent under the hood"

"Hey, guys." I stepped between them, my arms up like a referee
holding prize fighters apart in the boxing ring. "Why don't you call
the lawyer and ask him instead of fighting over this?"

"Because I already know the answer," Featherstone said. "She left
me with everything, and I'm not going to let her down. I won't-" He
stopped talking and looked at the ground, closed his eyes, and inhaled
deeply, as if he was trying to summon strength to go on.

Poor Featherstone. He was going through a lot. I glanced at the
kid, trying to get a read on whether his story about the car was true.

When Featherstone raised his head, his scowl had softened.
"Maybe I'm overreacting. You have to understand, I'm under a lot
of stress."

"I can pay something," Deke said, holding out his hands. "I need
a car bad"

"This car is a classic," Featherstone said calmly. "Might be out of
your price range, but I can check the market value and get back to
you"

The kid sniffed and said, "Isn't worth much, the shape it's in."

"We'll see," Featherstone said. "I'll call you. Okay?" He stalked
up the driveway and around the corner. The back door to the house
slammed.

I wasn't sure what to make of this situation. Featherstone's selfish
reaction didn't make a lot of sense to me, but for all I knew he might have plans to donate the whole estate to charity after getting top dollar.

Nah, he was selfish.

"Dude has a burr up his butt, don't he?" Deke said.

I shrugged and asked Deke if he needed a ride somewhere.

"No, thanks. Girlfriend's pickin' me up."

I was glad he'd turned down the offer. Featherstone would have a
cow if I left again.

"Did Ida Featherstone actually say she'd give you the car?" I
asked.

"Yeah," Deke said in a what's-it-to-you tone.

"Okay. None of my business anyway. I just work here."

I went to my SUV for a fresh apron and my water bottle, then decided to phone McCall before going inside.

"What's the big deal?" he said when I asked where he'd gotten
off to. "Attic's on my agenda today, and I needed a few things. Be
back in ten."

"Make it five," I said. "Featherstone's on the warpath."

"Will do."

We hung up. I checked the time. Another hour or so before I'd
hear from Doug and get a chance, finally, to talk with Kevin. Until
then, I would focus on cleaning up the back bedroom.

I shut my door. Deke was already being picked up by a car that
looked familiar-a red Miata. I watched him climb in, then caught a
clear view of the girlfriend as she pulled away.

Even if I hadn't recognized the car, there was no mistaking the
driver. The hennaed, punk-cut hair, black-framed glasses, dark red
lipstick.

Deke's girlfriend was none other than Grayson Sullivan. Last time
I'd seen her, she was practically drooling over Kevin. What was she
doing way out here in Richmond?

I was still staring after the Miata when McCall pulled up. He rustled around in his backseat before getting out with a Home Depot
sack, from which he extracted a pair of work gloves.

"All set for the attic." He pulled on the new gloves. "You get your
business taken care of?"

"Partly." I couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that this mechanic person, Deke, was with Grayson. He didn't seem to be her
type, despite their common interest in body piercings.

"What's that mean?" McCall said.

"Huh?" I turned to look at him.

"You said 'partly."'

"Oh. Dawn Hurley was out. I talked with her boss, but I wanted to
ask Dawn more questions about Janice's moving."

"Janice is moving?" he said.

"She has moved. At least that's what Dawn told me. I had no idea,
and I don't think Aunt Millie knows yet."

"Where'd she move to?"

"New Jersey."

"Really?" McCall said. "Where in Jersey?"

"Piscataway? I don't know. Something with a P. Parsippany
maybe. I don't remember." I threw my hands up. "Never mind. Let's
get to work."

We went inside, and McCall hit the attic while I delved into the
bedroom Ida had used for storage. I was relieved that Featherstone
left us to our work. I didn't think I could take another of his speeches
today. My mind was on Grayson and Kevin, Grayson and Deke. I
wondered how long Grayson had known Deke. Or if Kevin knew
Deke. Not that it mattered. Bottom line, I was glad she had somebody
else-anybody at all, provided his name wasn't Kevin.

The storage room had three old dressers, all stuffed full. I emptied
drawer after drawer and found enough sewing supplies to go into the
seamstress business. Fabric, patterns, thread, hooks and snaps, hem
tape, a billion buttons.

I worked steadily for the next hour, checking the time every few
minutes, eager to hear from Doug.

Noon came and went, and my stomach was queasy by the time
my phone finally rang at quarter past the hour.

I punched the button to answer. "Doug?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Put Kevin on."

He hesitated. "Can't do that."

"Why not?"

"'Cause he's not with me."

My heart sank. "What do you mean? You had it all planned."

"I'm here," he said. "I'm at the restaurant, but Kevin's not. He
stood me up."

"Where's Jojo?"

"Don't know. He's not here either, and I can't get him on the
phone."

"Maybe you have the wrong place?"

"It's the right place, Penny," he said. "I'm not a total idiot. Don't
worry. I'll keep looking."

"But my meeting with the cops is tonight. What am I supposed to
tell them?"

"You don't tell them anything," he said. "You listen. If things get
dicey, request that your attorney be present."

That advice sent my worry gene into overdrive. We talked for a
few more minutes, but Doug couldn't answer any of my questions.
We didn't know where Kevin was or what he was doing or what he
planned to do.

I'd go into the meeting with Troxell cold.

I kept my hands busy through the afternoon, even though my brain
wouldn't quit conjuring possible reasons for Kevin's leaving town.
He might be out having fun right this minute, taking a break from
his routine, unaware that we were looking for him. It had been years
since we'd expected him to check in with us every day. Maybe he'd
met a new woman. Or maybe he was sitting at a bar somewhere drinking himself stupid, trying to get over Grayson. I didn't care about
that. I only wanted to know where he was.

Around four, McCall came to check on me. He'd been bumping
and thumping around in the attic all day, and I felt absurdly grateful
for his help. Though I regularly took jobs this size alone, I wasn't
usually lugging so much personal baggage while I worked.

I stood in the hallway outside Ida Featherstone's oversized linen
closet, thigh-deep in blankets, quilts, and yellowed feather pillows.
The closet was still half full.

"How's it going?" McCall asked, handing me a fresh bottle of
water.

"Slow." My throat felt as if cotton fibers and dust bunnies had
lodged deep inside. I took the water and sipped gratefully. "Thanks,
I needed that."

"Where's the client?"

"He went out again. I'm just as happy to work without him looking over my shoulder."

"I'll second that," he said. "Hear any more from Millie today?"

"Not a word."

"Guess your cousin settled down"

"Janice never settles down," I said. "She's obnoxious even in her
sleep."

McCall shook his head. "Can't imagine living with that. What's
her husband like?"

"Conner? I barely know the man. Not that I'm complaining. He's
arrogant. Self-centered. A lot like Janice."

"He make the trip with her?"

"Hah. He wouldn't lower himself."

"I know the type." McCall eyed me with a serious expression.
"You should call it a day. Go home and get a good night's rest."

"Yeah, I should." I glanced at my watch. In two hours I'd know
what Troxell had on her mind.

"But you won't," he said. "At least take a break."

"Hate to stop when I'm on a roll." I put my water down and
turned back to the closet. I pulled sheets from an upper shelf. There
were more than I'd bargained for, and the stack toppled down on my
head and knocked me back a step.

McCall tried to catch me, but I stumbled over a pillow and tipped
him off balance. We both went down in the pile of bedding, laughing. It felt good to laugh, even better with McCall lying beside me,
gazing into my eyes.

He moved first, sitting up and gathering the sheets that had landed
on top of me. Then he gave me a hand and pulled me to a sitting position. He didn't take his eyes off me, though, and I felt self-conscious
under his scrutiny. He brushed hair back from my face.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You seem different. Preoccupied."

I shrugged. "Just tired, I guess."

"You sure that's all?"

I smiled, feeling myself weaken. I needed someone to talk to, but
not McCall. Not now.

His eyes were intent, focused on me. I wondered if he could read
my mind. For a second I wanted to lean into him and let my worries
and fears pour out. Then my common sense took hold, and I scrambled to my feet. Better to keep things on a professional level.

"You were right," I said. "I am beat."

He stood close, holding an armful of tangled sheets.

"You mind finishing up here?" I needed to get home and take a
good, hot, calming shower before facing Troxell.