Page 13 of Little Buried Secrets

“It’s true,” Rae added.

Bronte looked me up and down. “You’re the detective?”

“I am the detective,” I said.

“Huh.”

I wasn’t sure what about me was so off-putting, but something wasn’t to her liking. This wasn’t the first time we’d met, but she acted like she’d never seen me before.

I’m here, off-putting or not.

Deal with it.

Bronte moved to the side, allowing me to ascend the stairs so I could approach Rae. At the same time, the front door opened, and a man stepped out. He handed Rae a glass of wine, grinned at me, and said, “You must be Georgiana.”

“I am.”

“I’m Grant. Would you care for a glass of wine?”

I glanced at my watch.

Four o’clock.

Close enough.

It was my last stop of the day, after all.

“I’d love a glass,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Red? White? Rosé? Bubbles? We’ve got it all.”

“Rosé, please,” I said.

“I’ll take a glass too,” Bronte said.

Grant wagged a finger in her direction. “Nice try, young lady.”

He turned and disappeared inside the house, but before he did, I noticed Bronte’s sour expression was even worse than before.

She wasn’t his biggest fan.

Then again, she wasn’t a fan of mine either.

I decided to test the waters to see if I could elicit a response.

“Grant seems nice,” I said.

“He is,” Rae said. “He hasn’t left my side since we found out Margot was missing.”

Bronte rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t need to be here twenty-four seven, does he? I’m here, Mom. I’m all you need.”

“I appreciate you,” Rae said. “I appreciate Grant too. You’ve both been wonderful.”

Grant returned with my glass of rosé, and Bronte made for the front door.

“Hey, Bronte, can I talk to you for a few minutes before you go inside?” I asked.

She blew out a long sigh and said, “Why?”

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