I eased into Scarlett’s driveway and cursed when I didn’t see a delivery vehicle there. She’d invited me for dinner tonight to “strategize,” and I hoped to God that meant she wasn’t cooking. My sister was a lot of things. A passable cook who probably wouldn’t give her guests food poisoning was not one of them.

I let myself in the front door of the cabin and ran right into a clothing rack full of suits that was blocking the hallway. “Scarlett?”

Something smelled unpleasant in here. Like burnt meat and bad eggs. Why didn’t I offer to pick something up?

“Back here, Bow,” she called from the kitchen.

The house was doll-sized with one bedroom, a bath barely bigger than the tub, and a living-dining-kitchen space that was roughly the size of my living room. With its scrap of lake frontage and tree-filled yard, it suited Scarlett down to the ground. At least it had until Devlin the Clothes Horse moved in. There was a shoe rack on top of the coffee table that had been shoved up against the wall to make room for a folding table buckling under the weight of two laptops and a mess of paperwork.

“How do you like our home office?” Scarlett chirped.

She and Devlin were decked out in aprons and hot pads, trying to scrape something that looked like it could have been a meatloaf out of a pan.

“It’s real homey,” I lied, noting the books stacked up on the floor. Kitten Jedediah was unraveling a very nice-looking cashmere sweater stored in one of the half-dozen laundry baskets piled together blocking the patio doors.

Devlin looked up from the burnt gray meat. “They broke ground yesterday. Another six months and we’ll have some space to spread out,” he said cheerfully.

I scratched the back of my head. Every flat surface was buried under things that should have had a rightful place. I guessed that’s what you got when you took two independent lives and smashed them together in six hundred square feet. Now, Cassidy and I had an entire house to work with. We could take out walls and have plenty of room for rambling.

“Knock knock,” Cassidy called from the front door.

“What are you up to?” I hissed at my sister.

“This is between me and your secret girlfriend who still hasn’t told me y’all are together,” Scarlett said wickedly. “In the kitchen, Cass,” she sang.

Cassidy came around the corner, narrowly avoiding a stack of law books, and stopped short when she saw me. She was in uniform, and her hair was pulled back in that slick bun.

“Isn’t this nice?” Scarlett asked sweetly. “I would have invited the others, but we’re plum out of room.”

“Cassidy, I have that thing in my car you wanted to borrow—” I began. But my sister cut me off.

“Bowie, do you mind gettin’ the deviled eggs out of the refrigerator?” she asked. There was an edge to her tone. She was warning me off. Family first.

I needed to get Cassidy alone and tell her she was walking into a Scarlett Bodine trap.

“I’m sure Devlin can handle the eggs,” I said.

“Get the damn eggs, Bowie,” Scarlett barked. “And don’t even think about getting between me and your secret pal over there,” she added so only I could hear when I wriggled my way between her and Devlin to get to the refrigerator.

I opened the door and gagged at the smell of sulfur. Devlin ducked behind it with me and pulled his sweater over his nose. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice muffled by cashmere.

“I think Scarlett’s tryin’ to teach Cassidy a lesson about keeping secrets.”

“Well, that should be fun. Don’t eat the meatloaf. She dropped it on the floor and the cat ran through it,” he whispered back.

“Good to know.”

“So, Cassidy, what’s new with you? What’s happening in your world these days?” Scarlett asked.

I straightened up and waved my hands like an air traffic controller behind Scarlett’s back.

Scarlett must have felt the breeze because her head whipped around.

Innocently, I held up the tray of deviled eggs that were more orange than yellow at arm’s length so the smell wouldn’t contaminate me.

I could tell by Cassidy’s wrinkled nose that the smell was wafting in her direction.

“Why, thank you, Bowie,” Scarlett said, sweeter than a tall glass of sweet tea in August. Shit was about to go down.

She linked her arm through mine. “I’m so happy y’all are friends again. Isn’t it great to be friends? Bless your heart.”

“She knows,” I mouthed to Cassidy.

Cassidy rolled her eyes. She was no dummy.

“Bowie told you,” she said, cutting to the chase.

Nice as pie Scarlett disappeared and was replaced with violently angry Scarlett. “You’re damn right he told me, which is what you should have done. We are family, Cassidy Ann Tucker. I have been planning your wedding to Bowie since the second grade. And you think it’s okay to strike up a relationship and not tell me? Are you touched in the head?”

“Oh, I can trust you, can I?” Cassidy demanded, rounding on me.

“Don’t you dare get mad at him for telling me something you should have,” Scarlett shrilled.

Cassidy gave me a look that telegraphed the fact that we were going to have a discussion later. But she had louder, meaner fish to fry first.

“Now, Scarlett,” she began in her calmest deputy voice.

“Don’t you ‘now Scarlett’ me! What else have you been hiding from me? Did you win that big lottery six months ago that no one has claimed yet? Is your real name even Cassidy?”

“We should maybe step outside,” Devlin said.

Jedediah sprinted over and launched himself at the bookcase, scrabbling to the top shelf so he could knock a photo of Scarlett, June, and Cassidy over. I wondered if it was coincidence or if Scarlett had trained him.

“I think I need to stay inside in case things get ugly,” I told Devlin.

“I can handle myself just fine.” Cassidy glared at me.

“That right there is your stupid problem, you stupid jerk,” Scarlett said, pointing an accusatory finger in Cassidy’s direction. “I can do everything myself,” she mimicked.

“I can do everything myself,” Cassidy argued.

“Well, you don’t have to, you idiot! What’s with all the secrets? I cut you some slack over the DNA tests. But you’re dating my brother and didn’t think to tell me? This is your second strike, Tucker.”

Devlin raised his hands peacemaker-style. “Maybe we should all sit down and discuss—”

“Get out!” Scarlett and Cassidy commanded.

“Yes, ma’ams,” I said, running like hell for the patio doors.

Devlin was hot on my heels.

I left the glass door open a crack so we could eavesdrop safely and then sat down on a cushioned lounger that must have belonged to Devlin’s past life.

He was pulling out his cell phone.

“You can’t call the cops. One of them’s already here,” I joked.

“I’m calling for pizza.”