Page 25 of Eldritch

Maria continued. “I lived with my grandparents...my paternal grandparents along with my three older brothers...after Mom and Dad died.”

“Did you enjoy living with your grandparents?” Letisha asked.

Maria placed her fork down on the plate. “Not really. They were super religious. Strict. My grandfather in particular. He treated grandma like shit. I wanted to go to college, but the only colleges they would help pay for were religious-oriented schools.” She shook her head, her expression etched with a low-simmering anger. “I graduated from high school and moved out. Lived with the boyfriend. That didn’t work out because apparently he didn’t like the idea of me getting an education either.”

Letisha made a disgusted sound in her throat. “Please tell me you dumped his ass?”

Maria found a smile. “I did. You all know the rest. Finished a general arts associate degree. It took me a while because I was working two jobs at a time. Then I found you guys.”

“What do you plan to do next?” Pauline asked. “I mean, let’s face it. Cleaning houses isn’t a long-time goal, is it?”

Maria pinpointed Pauline with a stare that was palpable in its dislike. “I’m working that out.”

Silence clung to the room as everyone but Maria returned to eating. Sybil’s phone went off and made her jump.

“It’s a text from Clarice. She said the guy with the security system experience will call me tonight. She sent me his photo.” She perused the man’s picture, and her mouth dropped open. “Wow.”

Letisha strained forward to look. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.” She turned the phone around and the women shuffled their chairs around to get a good look.

“Holy shit,” Pauline said. “Not my type, but holy shit on crackers.”

“What’s your type?” Maria asked in a faintly scathing tone. “How could he not be your type?”

Pauline returned the look and the tone. “He’s blond. I like men with dark hair.”

“Hmmm...he’s hot. I mean, I love a man in uniform,” Letisha said as she rubbed her hands together. “Especially a marine.”

Sybil groaned. “God, will you listen to yourselves? What is he, a piece of meat?”

“Listen,” Letisha said. “I luv ya, but men have been ogling the shit out of women for centuries. It’s fair game.”

Sybil snorted. “It’s one of those hard ass photos they all take in front of a flag. He almost looks mean. He’s also a retired cop.”

“Retired? How old is he again?” Letisha asked.

“Thirty-eight,” Sybil said. “Two years younger than me.”

Letisha waggled her eyebrows. “He kinda looks like Chris Hemsworth. A little less pretty. Rougher around the edges. Besides, military men are supposed to look mean in photos like this. Good for the promotion board. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Hot is right. Sybil wanted to agree. She could pretend she didn’t care, but this photo had her intrigued.

Her phone rang, and she answered it just in case it was the retired marine.

“Hi, this is Douglas MacKenzie, a friend of Clarice’s,” he said. “Is this Sybil?”

Bingo. She smiled.

His voice was low, deep and husky. Typical Standard American accent.

Sybil cleared her throat. “Hey. Yes. This is Sybil Alderan. Clarice said you’d call.”

“She explained what happened at the mansion and wanted me to scope things out for a security system. Do you have time for me to come by in the morning?”

“Of course. We can make time. Would eight o’clock work?”

“Perfect.”

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