“Are you going to throw something at me if I tell you I think this is a bad idea?” Chase’s eyes slid off the road and touched on my set face.

I’d made the mistake of telling him about the crystal tumblers. I didn’t lose my temper often but when I did, well, the mess in Aiden’s office attested to the result.

“Maybe. If I were you, I wouldn’t take the risk,” I warned. “I told you I could do this by myself. You insisted on coming with me. I appreciate the support, but if you’re going to be an ass about it, you can let me out and I’ll call for a ride.”

Proving I was serious, I unlocked my phone and tapped the icon of the ride share app.

Chase snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. “Put that away, Vivi. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you do this on your own. I just want it on record that I think it’s a mistake.”

“So noted. I’m not stupid. I’m fully aware that this is probably a terrible idea. Can you understand why I still have to know?”

Chase didn’t answer, just tapped his index finger on the steering wheel. Finally, he said, “You do remember me moving us to Atlanta and not telling you why, right? So, yeah, I get it. That’s why I’m driving all the way to Huntsville, why I called and made a fake appointment to award LeAnne Gates a cruise she didn’t win.”

“Thanks. What did Gage say when you told him you were taking the day off?” It was the closest I would come to asking about Aiden.

“You don’t want to know.”

I took in the set of his chin, the hard line of his jaw. “Yeah, I guess I probably don’t.”

I was trying not to think about him. Aiden. Just the sound of his name in my head came with a spike of agony. Aiden. I never wanted to see him again. Never wanted to see any of them again. And my brother was tied to them for the rest of his life.

I closed the thought out of my mind. I could grieve, and wallow, and sulk over Aiden Winters later. First, I had to get through the morning.

“Looks like this is it,” Chase said, slowing in front of a gatehouse manned by a security guard. Chase gave the fake name he’d used when he made the appointment and we were waved through. Easy as that.

We followed the GPS directions through a maze of streets filled with identical, oversized McMansions. The landscaping was pristine and consistent. There were no toys on the lawns, no cars parked on the street, no basketball hoops in the driveways or trampolines in the yards. Everything around us was carefully monitored perfection. I’d bet the neighborhood association would form a lynch mob if a blade of grass grew a millimeter too long. I had the sudden urge to tell Chase to turn around, to forget the whole thing.

Then it was too late, and we were there, coming to a stop in front of number fifty-seven Arcadia Drive. I stepped from the car and pulled on the ice queen like an old cardigan. My hair was back in a sleek twist, my makeup in shades of charcoal, my lips a deep, perfectly lined rose. I wore the gray linen sheath with plum heels, pearls at my ears and around my neck.

Perversely, I wanted my mother here with me in spirit as she never would be in person. She’d made her mistakes as a parent. I was the first to point that out. But she’d taught me how to be strong. How to keep my weaknesses to myself, how to fight even if I used chilly politeness instead of my fists.

I was ice, from the inside out. Whatever happened inside that house, I would put it behind me and move on. I would put all of this behind me and move on.

I thought I was ready. When the door swung open and LeAnne Gates laid eyes on Chase, she smiled the smile of an older woman appreciating an attractive younger man.

I needed a moment to compose myself before she spotted me. It was like looking in a mirror. Lavender eyes the exact shade of my own in an oval face crowned by thick, shiny hair in the same strands of gold and platinum I’d brushed that morning.

Unlike my classic sheath dress and designer heels, she wore a hot pink tank top with a plunging neckline over a bra that pushed her breasts high and together, the skin between wrinkling in protest.

Her leopard print capris were skintight, showing the line of her thong across her hip, the black lace peeking up in the back. Her feet, with toenails the same hot pink as her tank top, were jammed into a pair of clear plastic slides with heels that had to be at least 4 inches.

Her hair was teased into a style I hadn’t seen since reruns of eighties soap operas and her mascara was so thick it looked like caterpillars lay across her eyelids.

Those black-rimmed eyes lit on me and she froze. She knew. She went stiff, started to swing the door shut. Chase’s hand flew up to block her. He wedged his foot in the door, easing her back, pulling me inside along with him.

“You can’t just come in here,” she said. “I’ll call security.” Her voice grated against my ears, shrill with a twang that wasn’t Alabama, wasn’t Tennessee.

“We’ll only take a few minutes of your time. I can promise you, this will be less complicated if you talk to us now. You don’t want us to come back.”

She went still at the vague threat, her eyes locked on my face, wide and afraid.

“You’re not supposed to be here. How did you find me? No one is supposed to know. That’s how it works.”

“Why don’t you tell us how it works, Ms. Gates,” Chase said, easily. “Let’s just sit down and have a chat. Then we’ll get out of your hair and you’ll never see us again.”

Chase didn’t bother to be harmless or charming very often, and it always threw me. When he flashed that smile and twinkled those blue eyes at a woman, young or old, they melted.

Suckers.

Usually, I had to resist the urge to snicker. Today I was grateful as LeAnne Gates relaxed and led us into her parlor.

The room was decorated in rose and avocado, the velvet couch a shade of gold that would have been all the rage in the seventies. Every piece of furniture was covered with plastic. It crackled as I sat, sticking to the backs of my legs before I smoothed my skirt down.

Our unwilling hostess crossed the room to the drink cart and poured herself a generous serving of vodka. She didn’t bother to offer a drink to either of us.

“I don’t know what the two of you are doing here,” she began. “I told the other one I wasn’t talking.”

“Other one?” Chase probed.

“Maxwell’s boy, and the one who came with him. Snotty assholes. Maxwell was a gentleman. Gentlemen enough, if you know what I mean.” She leered at Chase and took an impatient swig of her drink. A cigarette appeared out of nowhere. She popped it between her lips and lit it, taking a long drag.

She must have seen something she didn’t like in my face, because she stabbed the cigarette in the air in my direction and said, “Never drank or smoked while I was working. Having my fun now.”

“While you were working? In what capacity were you working for Maxwell Sinclair?”

“You playing a game? I told the other one. You want me to talk, you get out your wallet. I don’t do nothing for free.”

“How much?” I cut in. “How much to answer our questions?”

There was a hint of fear beneath her sneer. She looked me up and down. “More than you have.”

Chase leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and sent her an affable smile that belied the words that came out of his mouth. “We have a copy of the contract you signed with Marshall Pitt. We’re not sure how legal it was and we’re considering asking some friends in law enforcement for their opinion. If you don’t want to talk, we won’t waste any more of your time. I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

She fell for his bluff hook, line, and sinker. “That sumbitch was never supposed to turn over my name. None of y’all should be here.” She stabbed the cigarette in the air towards us again before taking a long drag and exhaling in Chase’s face.

He sat back and started to stand, holding his hand out to me. “Let’s go. I’ll call Detective—”

“Wait! Wait. Ten thousand and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Cash.”

Chase dropped his hand to his side and looked down at her. “Five and not a penny more.”

“Chase!” I hissed. What was he doing?

“Done. But I ain’t saying nothin’ until I see the money. This bank don’t take checks.”

“Agreed. But you don’t get the money until I’m satisfied with your answers.”

She got to her feet and tottered on her slides across the thick carpet to the drink cart, splashing more vodka in her glass.

I watched in fascination as she stubbed the cigarette out in an overflowing ashtray and lit another from the pack I now saw she had concealed in the hip pocket of her capris. A diamond studded gold lighter flashed and she blew a cloud of smoke in my direction.

“Well? No money, no talking.”

Chase turned to me, handing me the keys to the car. “There’s a briefcase in the backseat. Go get it please.”

“Chase,” I said, again, under my breath.

Before I could articulate my protest, Chase pulled me to my feet and leaned in, whispering in my ear, “You want to do this, we’re going to do it. I figured it would go this way, and I came prepared. Go get the briefcase, Vivi.”

A little shocked, I took the keys and did as he asked. I wanted to tell him to get it himself, but I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone with LeAnne Gates. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to, so I did as I was told.

I came back to find her halfway through her second cigarette and second tumbler of vodka. A haze of smoke hung in the parlor. I had no idea what had been said while I was gone, but Chase was gritting his teeth and looking at our hostess as if she were a cockroach under his shoe.

I handed him the briefcase and sat beside him pretending I expected to see the neatly wrapped stack of hundred dollar bills he removed and set on the coffee table. I guess it was a good thing I’d brought him with me. I’d been so focused on finding this woman, it hadn’t occurred to me to arrive prepared for bribery.

LeAnne Gates picked up the stack of cash and ran her thumb across the top, riffling the bills. She waved the money under her nose and inhaled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “I just love the smell of money. If they made it into a perfume, I’d wear it every day.”

“What work did you do for Maxwell Sinclair?” I asked, tired of her stalling.