Page 119 of Say Yes to the Death

“Nothing really. I did another deep dive on Google, but the only thing that comes up for ESA is their shining track record for GPA requirements and community service.”

What she really wanted was to break into the frat house on Venor’s campus and surveil them, but something told her Sawyer wouldn’t approve.

“I ended up spiraling into some pretty terrible forums full of woman haters,” she continued. “Maybe it’ll give me some psychological ammunition to poke at Barney, but it was not the healthiest way to spend two hours.” She yawned. “However, thanks to your meditation techniques and barricading my bedroom door, I didn’t sleepwalk across the state last night. I did wake up in the closet wearing a barmaid costume from last Halloween, but better there than Hazelton.”

Sawyer nodded. “That’s an improvement. What was the sleepwalking snack du jour?”

“Half a protein bar that may or may not have been expired.” Rosie stiffened at her side, and Claire glanced down.

“Hello, Claire,” came a deep male voice from behind her.

In a flash, she was standing with her keys threaded through her knuckles.

Jack Hartley stood a couple feet away next to a waist-high planter, hands in his pockets. He clearly hadn’t taken Sawyer’s self-defense classes.

“Oh. It’s you.” She dropped her keys and glanced behind her. Sawyer had picked up the entire table they were sitting at and held it like a battering ram. He set it back down with a gentle clatter.

Jack took a step closer. His eyes flashed up and down the street. “I’m worried about your routine.”

She raised her eyebrows. “My routine?”

“Every Wednesday for the past three weeks you go to Sanctum, then you come here for frozen yogurt. You’re being too predictable. It’s dangerous, especially considering your current troubles.”

How the hell did he know that? Was he keeping tabs on her?

“I’m pretty sure you lost a say in my personal safety habits about twenty years ago, Jack. And stop spying on me. Sawyer, let’s go.”

“See you Friday,” Jack called after her.

She fought the urge to flip him off. “Who does he think he is?” she grumbled to Sawyer when they were half a block away. “He ignored me for twenty years and then thinks he can come back and boss me around. Not today, Satan. I might even put laxatives in the lasagna. Happy freakin’ family dinner.”

Claire’s phone rang, and she glanced down. It was her mother. “Do you mind?” Sawyer nodded.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hello, darling. Is your father bothering you?”

How could she have possibly known? Was she enlisting help from Brian, the PI she had hired to follow Claire during the height of the Widowmaker hysteria? Claire glanced in every direction, but the Red Sox-cap-wearing PI was nowhere to be found. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since she had inadvertently gotten Jason arrested on suspicion of being the Widowmaker. To be fair, though, Mindy had almost assaulted Brian in an alleyway because she thought he was following Claire. He was probably screening Alice’s calls.

“He is, as a matter of fact,” Claire conceded. A niggling thought that had been on her mind for a week tumbled out. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Did you by any chance hide like fifteen years’ worth of birthday cards he sent?”

There was silence on the other end. Sawyer shot her some serious side-eye. Claire held her breath. Her mother had only just forgiven her for withholding information on her current stalking situation. Perhaps it was unfair to delve into this family chapter so soon afterward. But wasn’t it hypocritical of Alice to hide something like this?

“Yes, I did.” Alice’s voice was breathy with a tinge of sadness. “I’m sorry about that, Clairebear. I may have taken your father’s betrayal a bit too hard and forcibly prevented you from having a relationship with him.”

A loud sob burst out from the other end of the call. Claire shot a pained look at Sawyer. Great, now she had made her mother cry. Was she seriously feeling guilty because her mother cried after hiding all evidence of her father reaching out to her during her formative years?

“Mom, you know that’s not okay. That should have been my choice.” This was shaping up to be the most emotionally exhausting week she’d had since she was brutally stabbed.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t want you to get hurt like I did.”

Claire sighed. “Mom, can we talk about this later? I have a meeting to?—”

An explosion rocked the street.

Glass shattered in storefronts, and Claire hit the sidewalk hard, then rolled to cover Rosie, who quivered in panic. Sawyer hit right next to her. Car alarms whistled. Her ears rang like a thousand gongs had just been rung.

What was it? A gas explosion? A wall of fire was climbing ever higher a block down. She climbed unsteadily to her feet. Her knees and palms were scraped to hell. Everything was muffled.

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