Page 38 of SALT

Closing the door, I walk through the foyer and toward the kitchen. I know damn well this isn't a date, and so does Lauren, but I am curious why she's put in all the pomp and circumstance. We aren't friends, but the way she's genuinely making herself comfortable in my kitchen as she plays music on my Alexa with a poured glass of wine in hand as she searches through my cabinets, has me on high alert.

"There you are. I hope you don't mind the music. I saw the speaker and couldn't help myself. I always cook with music on." She stops her perusal and pours me a glass, only to ask once it's in front of me. "Do you drink wine? I should have asked instead of assuming, but I feel like everyone enjoys a good glass of Merlot now and again. Not to mention, it pairs nicely with the food I picked up."

She's rambling. That's a nervous tick if I ever did see one.

"Why are you here, Lauren?"

She rolls her lips and taps her nails on her glass. "We didn't start on the right foot the other day. Lunch was a dick-measuring contest if I've ever seen one, but I meant it when I said I was not here to cause trouble. However, some things have been brought to my attention that I felt I should share. I'm too old for drama, Everett."

"Well, you have a captive audience, seeing as it's just you and me, so please feel free to drop whatever baggage you brought with you on my doorstep," I say sardonically as I take a sip of my wine. I'm not a big wine drinker, but this is actually decent, and after the past twenty-four hours, I could use a drink. I may have been brash, but it can't be helped when sitting here with her is the last place I want to be.

"My niece is Evan Grave's sister?—"

"That is need-to-know information. Information you should have shared last week," I say, attempting not to lose my temper. Yelling at women is something I try hard to avoid.

She holds up her hand. "This is the story she's attempting to spin."

"Well, this sounds like a problem for you. She's your niece. Fix it."

"Will you settle down and hear me out? I came here because I want to let this play out, and I need your cooperation to do so. I'm curious where Stormy is going with this."

"Why would I entertain this, Lauren? I thought I made it clear I don't want your drama, and yet you're back with a problem nonetheless," I point out as I round the counter to get something stronger than wine.

"Because of who she is and what she might know. Her stories might be fabricated, but there is some truth spun into them. The question is, how does she have those truths?" She pauses to take a sip of her wine before adding, "I would have told you last week had I known then what I do now. Everett, you have to remember I've been gone for over twenty years, and believe it or not, I didn't care to check on anyone who still lived in this backwash old town. No one here was worth my time."

Pulling down a lowball glass, I fill it with ice before uncorking my cognac. "Let's hear it, Lauren. It better be worth my time if you expect me to play along."

"The other day, when I got back from running up to the store, Stormy was sitting in the living room with a guy I'd never seen before who was sporting a Callahan & Associates duffle bag. Obviously, my interest was piqued. That's when she introduced him as Evan Graves and told me he was her brother."

I should ask if he's still at her place, but I don't. I haven't been concerned with finding him, even though I know he's the one who broke into Connor's house. I already know his motive, and it wasn't to hurt Cameron. He was trying to steal shit to pawn out of Connor's closet. On the first night Cameron left my house to stay at Connor's, Evan went straight there after I told him he couldn't stay, and she naively let him in. At the time, she wasn't sleeping in the master bedroom; instead, she was in a guest bedroom upstairs, which gave him the perfect opportunity to case the downstairs. Having gotten into the house, he noted where all the interior cameras were located to avoid them when he returned later. I'm sure he didn't know she was in that closet scared shitless when he broke in a few nights later. He probably thought she was upstairs asleep without a worry that he was downstairs pilfering through Connor and Makenzie's valuables.

I take a long pull of my drink as I go over the details she's sharing and the ones she isn't. "You're going to need to get better at lying if you expect me to believe your niece..." I draw out the title, letting it marinate before adding, "conned you into believing she has a sibling. Sage Graves was not your sister. You didn't have any siblings," I assert, topping off my glass.

"You're right. I don't. Just because I refer to Stormy as my niece doesn't make it literal. People refer to family friends as uncles and aunts all the time. I'm sure you have something similar with Cameron."

Cameron has never once called me uncle. Thank fuck for small miracles, but I understand the sentiment. I take a drink, needing the caramel-colored concoction to take the edge off. "The more I learned about Evan, the more curious I became. I assumed you and Moira had damn good reasons why you weren't helping him out now." She turns to the cabinet behind her and pulls out two plates.

"Evan isn't a bad kid. Jaded, bitter, and maybe a little resentful—yes, but he's done a lot of it to himself. Moira and I helped him after his mother conned us. Obviously, we never expected anything in return. We saw a boy born into a house of addiction and stepped up to care for him when his mother couldn't. For the most part, he was grateful, but at the end of the day, I don't care who you are. Being abandoned sucks. He was old enough to understand exactly what happened. His mother didn't die. She'd rather do drugs than have her son. It fucked with him."

"What exactly do you think you know about Sage Graves?" she asks, her expression pinched like I'm missing something big.

"Enough. Sage was a drug addict who abandoned her son and never looked back." As I watch her sip her wine, another detail suddenly hits me. "Why would Stormy choose Evan as her brother? Or maybe the better question is, why would she expect you to believe it? If she's not your niece, who is she to you?"

"Were you and Moira happily married? I mean, I was around, and I know there were rumors, but then you guys had Connor, and you were married for almost two decades. Was it all a facade or was any of it real?" she asks, setting a salad plate in front of me.

"Lauren, I don't care to discuss my marriage with you or anyone else. I'd appreciate it if we could stay on topic." I sit at one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island and watch as she dishes out the salad.

"I am on topic. The fact that you can't see that is telling." She walks around the island and grabs her plate before leaning against the opposite counter. "Moira MacBeth is Evan Graves's biological aunt, not me, which would make her Stormy's aunt as well, if they were indeed siblings." I feel my eyes narrow on hers as I try to process whether or not I believe the words coming out of her mouth. My marriage with Moira may have been loveless, but we were friends. It doesn't make sense that she would keep that information from me. "Moira's uncle, Craig, is Evan Graves's father."

My eyes feel like they jump out of my skull. "What proof do you have?"

"My mother."

"Your mother. The same one who's currently staying at Sweet Water Retirement Home?"

She raises a brow. "Are you keeping tabs on my mother?"

"No, Connor's wife had her mother there last year. Naturally, I took it upon myself to know what residents were in the facility."

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