Heather Webber - Digging Up Trouble

No, no, no, my inner voice chanted.

Digging Up Trouble

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And what about Bill and Lindsey? Why had they hired me if the lawsuit against the Grabinskys had been dropped? Had they really not known? Was it even true?

Then it hit me. The lawsuit. The man in Greta’s kitchen had said he’d had it dropped. All I needed to do was find out who’d been behind it. Then I’d know who threatened Greta.

And who had motive to kill Russ.

If Russ had been murdered.

That was a big if.

Though the more I learned about Russ Grabinsky, the more I wondered why he hadn’t been bumped off before now.

“. . . feel about being a stay-at-home mom?”

My head snapped up as I caught the tail end of what Bobby had been saying.

He laughed.

“Sorry,” I said.

“The lawsuit?” he asked as he turned onto my street. “I called Josh but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

Josh. His cousin, the lawyer. Who I prayed could get me out of this mess. “I can’t help it,” I said.

The Mill was relatively silent. I noticed that Mr. Cabrera’s house was dark, but his big red Pontiac, aka the Beast, was parked in his driveway.

My gaze automatically skipped to Boom-Boom’s house, where it was also dark. I wondered what was going on between the two of them, if anything. After all, Mr. Cabrera had been kissing Brickhouse just that morning.

However, I wouldn’t put two-timing past him.

Bobby cut the engine, turned to me. “Well, I think I know how to get you to stop thinking all together.”

My mouth went dry. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Let’s go in.”

I walked up the front steps. Okay, so I ran up them. Big 88

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deal. As I dug around in my backpack for my keys, Bobby wrapped his arms around me, kissed my neck.

Keys, keys, keys, I repeated to myself, trying to concentrate.

I tipped my head up, bit my lip when he found a sensitive spot under my ear. And froze.

“What?” Bobby asked, looking around.

“My lights are on inside.”

“And?”

“I haven’t been home since this morning. I didn’t leave them on.”

“Maybe Riley?”

“He’s at Kevin’s.”

“Maybe he came home early?” he asked, then mumbled something about bad luck.

“Kevin would have called.”

“Maybe we should call the police?”

As I debated this, my front door flung open. “ Chérie!

You’re home!”

I stared in disbelief. “Mom?”

“Is she finally here?” I heard.

My eyes widened. “Maria?”

“Bobby!” My mother air-kissed his cheeks.

My sister Maria did the same.

“What are you two doing here?” I asked, still staring.

“A surprise makeover! Surprise! We parked down the block and everything!”

“Wh-What?” I mumbled.

“For your house. Really, Nina, it was so outdated,” Maria said. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a fancy chignon, and only she could look gorgeous in a pair of over-alls. Paint splattered the front of them.

Orange paint.

Oh dear God. She was painting something orange.

In my house.

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I had to stop her.

Just as I opened my mouth, my mother said, “Now, now, chérie . I know this must be overwhelming, but it must be done. No arguing.”

“But—”

My mother stood firm. “No buts. Knickers and knots, Nina. Knickers and knots.”

“Want to rethink relocating?” Bobby joked from behind me.

I turned and gave him the Ceceri Evil Eye. It had no effect whatsoever, which told me a lot. Men not affected by the Ceceri Evil Eye were keepers.

The forever after kind of keepers.

I swallowed hard.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

My mother waved a manicured hand, tucked a loose piece of blonde hair behind her ear. “Off doing whatever he does on Saturday nights.”

“You don’t know what he does?”

She waved off my concern. “Some club or another. Histo-rians Unite, or some such.”

Ohh-kay. I looked to Maria. “Where’s Nate?”

“Boys’ weekend. They’re fishing,” she said with a grossed-out look. No wonder she hadn’t been asked along. “Took the dog with him, thank God.”

Gracie, a Chihuahua, was as high maintenance as my sister.

Bobby leaned down, his breath warm against my ear. Oh yeah. Now I remembered why we were in a rush to get here.

“We could go to my place.”

My mother’s eyes lit. “His place!” She turned to Maria.

“Did you hear that? His place!”

I closed my eyes, wishing I had relocated a long time ago.

“It’s about time,” Maria said to me. “Maybe you’ll stop being so testy.”

I stepped forward, fists clenched. “I’ll show you testy.”

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Bobby grabbed my arm.

“Snappy too,” Maria added.

I heard Bobby sigh. I knew the feeling. I turned to face him. “I think I maybe need to stay here tonight.”

He smiled. God, I loved his smile. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” my mother said. “Go with him. Go! Go!”

What did it say about my life that my mother was prodding me to go home with a man?

“Orange,” I said to Bobby under my breath, by way of explanation.

“Come on,” he said. “Walk me to my car.”

He opened the Celica’s door, gave me a hug, held me close.

As we stood there, a whirring noise caught my attention. I looked up just in time to see a golf cart whizzing down the street, Boom-Boom at the wheel, Mr. Cabrera next to her.

Brickhouse was going to kill him.

Boom-Boom beeped and waved at us as she swerved into her driveway.

“If you change your mind . . .” Bobby said, leaving the offer dangling.

“I’ll call.”

He gave me a quick kiss, ducked into the car. The engine purred to life. “Nina,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“We really do need to talk,” he said.

My heart backpedaled.

Talk? Talk was never good.

“Why? About what?”

His eyebrows dipped. “I’ve got something important to ask you.”

“Me?” Oh. My. God. He had something to ask me?

“Yes you.”

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“Oh.” Panic set in. My stomach churned.

“Maybe tomorrow?”

I nodded and closed the door. He waved as he backed out of the driveway. I watched him drive away, then turned toward my house.

Orange.

Ugh.

Instead of going in, I headed straight into my backyard, cut through it, and took refuge in Mr. Cabrera’s gazebo. I fished in my backpack for my cell phone.

“Help,” I said to Ana when she answered. “I need to be rescued.”

“How do you know I’m not on a date?”

“Are you on a date?”

“No. S and I had a falling out.”

“About?”

“His name. Besides, he never liked my mother, anyway.”

“That’s when she was going to be living with you. If I were him, I wouldn’t like that either.” My aunt Rosa had recently changed her mind about moving to town and living with Ana. Ana hadn’t quite decided whether she was relieved or hurt by the decision, even though she really hadn’t wanted her mother living with her.

I sympathized.

“Whose side are you on?” she asked.

“There’s no sides! I’m just saying. Look, you can tell me all about it when you pick me up.”

“You have perfect timing, Nina. I’m about to go on a mission. I’ll be there in ten minutes. And I’m bringing the wigs.”

“Oh no. Not the wigs!”

“We have to use the wigs!”

“Well, all right. But I want to be a blonde this time.”

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I hung up, closed my eyes, replaying what Bobby had said.