Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
We need it after this morning. We spent the hours as the sun came up curled together in my bed, talking through the drama of our individual days. She was surprised when I told her how bluntly aggressive I was in my meeting with Chrissy, but understood the strategy of setting the stage for our new working relationship. But neither of us was surprised at Jed trying to pull a fast one in the divorce decree. I think we’d be more surprised if he didn’t do something shady.
Wren hasn’t let me see the decree, claiming confidentiality, which I understand, but she’s sure the property list is incomplete. Her doubt in it is enough for me.
That’s why I called Maggie this morning and asked her to meet us for this hush-hush meeting too. She’s entirely trustworthy and has had numerous opportunities over the years to prove that, to the point that if Jed was doing something sketchy, he must have hidden it from Maggie too. For example, she had no idea about the affair with Lucy. But if anyone knows about Jed’s properties, it’s her. Jed wouldn’t know how to file his nails, much less ownership papers with the county.
Of course, that’s what lawyers are for, but there’s always a trail. Always.
And hopefully, Maggie is a bloodhound.
One more corner and we’ll be there, but before we can make the turn, someone else comes around it and nearly runs right into us. “Oh! Sorry,” Bill Ford says, stopping short and looking from Wren to me and back. His smile falls slowly, turning to suspicion. “What are you two up to?”
“Hi, Dad. What are you doing here?” Wren asks, ignoring his question. “It’s like old times, seeing you around the halls here.” She smiles as though remembering happy times when Bill was the mayor and Wren was interning with Ben.
Rather than going down memory lane with her, Bill narrows his eyes. “Good try, but I taught you that trick. Now, what’s up?”
Wren laughs, the sound a bit forced and high-pitched, and bats her lashes a bit.
“Immune to that one too. Ask your mother.” He tilts his head, enacting the Dad Glare 5000 to silently pull the answer from Wren.
But she’s a pro, able to keep her mouth shut even when it’s her own father demanding answers. “Nothing to worry about, Dad.”
Concern instantly furrows his brow, and she reassures him again. “I promise. We’re good.”
Still not sure, he searches her face before turning to me. “Don’t let this one get you into trouble, Jesse.” His lips tilt up the tiniest bit in a grin. “It’s hard to keep up with the big monster inside her.”
His gaze turns back to his daughter, pride beaming on his happy face. It’s good to see on him after that quiet, sad moment before the wedding, and I can see where Wren gets her confidence from. It was poured into her by her parents from a young age. Her dad doesn’t tell me to protect his little girl like some parents would, but rather warns me about her badass nature like it’s the best compliment he can give.
“I wouldn’t dream of trying. I just make sure she’s got a good place to come back to after she fights the town’s battles.” It’s the smallest hint of what we’re doing. I feel like he deserves that.
He makes a grunting noise of approval and steps aside. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if I can help with anything.” He starts to walk past us but stops. “Oh, also . . . call your mother. She knows how busy you are, but she’s missed your Monday night dinners.”
“I will,” Wren vows. “I have too.”
Making our way around the corner, we find the tax assessor’s office without running into anyone else.
“Uh, hi?” Christiana utters when we sneak inside, shutting the door behind us quickly.
Wren told her she needed to meet this morning, but not what it was about. Maggie sitting in a chair makes the topic pretty clear, though.
“Hi, Christiana, Maggie.” Wren sets her bag on the floor, taking the other chair in front of the desk. I offer a wave and lean against the door to keep anyone from interrupting us. This is Wren’s show, I’m basically a bouncer to keep it on the down-low.
“Jesse, you’ve got my hackles up with curiosity. Now, what’s this all about?” Maggie asks. “And it’d better be good, since I had to tell Chrissy that my hot flashes got the best of me and I’d be working from home today, naked with cool towels on my neck.”
I could’ve gone my whole life without that image in my head, but it’s too late now. “You could’ve said you had a flat tire, a headache, or any one of a dozen other things,” I reply. But when she gets up, threatening to leave, I backpedal. “Thanks, Maggie. It’s important.”