Page 13 of The Inquirer

The first step in the right direction was something I would’ve needed to do, anyway. There was someone else I had to apologize to for my behavior last night. Hopefully, Isaac would be more gracious about it than Bradyn had been. Based on what I knew of Shadae and Brew’s son, I thought he would be.

Hell, he and I could end up being friends by the time all this was over.

I wouldn’t date him. After the crash and burn with Bradyn, I was giving up on having any sort of ‘normal’ relationship for good. I wouldn’t put myself through that. But a friend? Yeah, I could like having Isaac as a friend.

Seven

Nyx

I took a slow breath, and then another. My confrontation with Bradyn hadn’t been fun, and I hadn’t really enjoyed apologizing to Isaac – though he had been nicer than Bradyn – but neither of those conversations made me half as nervous as I was right now, standing at the back door to the house, waiting to talk to Shadae and Brew.

At least bringing back the picnic basket meant I had something in my hands during the walk, and that helped with some of the anxiety.

I knocked on the door and then opened it, as if nothing had changed from the last time I was here.

“Shadae?”

“There you are, sugar.” Shadae stepped into the kitchen with a basket of vegetables. I couldn’t really tell what kind, but I had no doubt whatever she did with them would be delicious when she was done with it. “I was wonderin’ when you’d be up and about.”

“Thank you for the food.” I put the basket on the counter I’d last seen it on. “And for the hangover drink.”

She winked at me. “Brew and I shut down a bar or two in our time.”

I laughed, but it was a weak sound. I was too anxious about telling them everything. Maybe it was because I still had Bradyn’s remarks about my lying about why I was here. That wasn’t what I’d done, not intentionally anyway. But would they believe me? Would they hate me the way Bradyn did?

“You look like you’ve got somethin’ on your mind,” Shadae said as she set her basket of vegetables in the sink.

“I do. Is Brew around?”

“He’s on the front porch. We spend most nice Sunday afternoons out there.” She came over to me and put her hand on my arm. She looked more concerned than my own mother had ever been about me.

Well, maybe not ever. Up until she met Art, she’d been a decent mom. At least, I couldn’t remember her doing anything particularly awful. Most of my pre-Art memories with her in them had both of my parents. My sister had always been closer to our mother.

“Come on, sugar. Join us on the porch and unburden yourself.”

I let her lead me out front and put me in one of those sliding chairs that always looked like more fun than they actually were, and then she settled next to her husband. Neither of them rushed me, which I appreciated, but them not asking me what was going on meant I had to be the one to start this awkward conversation.

Well, I supposed if I didn’t have the guts to do this, I didn’t have what it took to have the difficult conversations private investigators needed to have.

“I told you that I came down here to Savannah to do some research for a client.” I forced my lips to move in what I hoped looked like a smile. “And normally, I can’t talk about what I do.”

“We know, sugar,” Shadae said. “We don’t expect you to tell us nothin’.”

“I know.” I managed a better smile this time. “But it turns out that the two of you are actually connected to my case.”

Both looked surprised enough that I knew Bradyn hadn’t told them anything about what he thought I was up to. Some of the tension in me loosened.

“I now have permission from my clients to share everything with you, but I’m going to start with the basics, and we can go from there.”

“All right.” Brew put his arm behind Shadae, and she leaned against him.

“Mid-September, I was approached by a lawyer whose firm is representing Carmine and Kathie Douglass.” I watched carefully but didn’t see even a flicker of recognition at the names, but that didn’t surprise me. Even after I gave them Kathie’s maiden name, I doubted they’d know who she was. Their relation was distant. “They wanted me to research Kathie’s family. Her maiden name was Mae, but it has changed over the years.”

“Her people are from Savannah?” Shadae asked.

“Kathie’s grandfather, Gideon Boyd, moved from Savannah to New York City in 1932.”

Shadae laughed. “I don’t know how old you think we are, sugar, but we’re not that old.”

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