Page 55 of The Bitter Heir and the Beauty

“You come from a criminal family?” I clear my throat, wishing I’d sounded more measured.

She looks me straight in the eyes. “Of course I do.”

I’m not sure how,of course,fits into that statement or her background, but I cannot help but watch as she traces her fingers over the paint.

“You can still see a bit here and over here. Hogan is at the top with his wife, Eloise, not to be confused with Penny. She came first. After Eloise died, well, I guess it was a bridge theycouldn’t cross. Hogan and Eloise did have a daughter, though.” She points to the spot where her name would’ve been. “Mireille married a steamship captain who later came to own a fleet. I imagine Tickle was pleased about that. They had a son shortly before Tickle passed away. His dying wish was for the Tickle name to carry on.”

“Was his wish granted?”

“Their son, Blair, had a hyphen, which wasn’t common in 1959, but yeah. Blair got married and divorced but died shortly thereafter.”

“Did they keep the hyphen?”

“No, which is probably why this property somehow ended up in your hands rather than remaining in the Tickle family.”

That means my ex must’ve originally been a Tickle, even though her last name was Jacobi. I peer at the faint family tree, wondering if I’ll see her information. It’s not here unless it’s under the spray paint. My thoughts snag on what Honey said about Hogan’s line going daughter, son, son—my ex would’ve come along after the second son, but that doesn’t make sense. Then again, Tickle didn’t leave his fortune to his direct descendants, so who knows how the estate shook out in probate.

I’m far more interested in Honey’s history. “So, how do you fit into all this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem to know a lot.”

“No more than anyone else in Hogwash.” But Honey’s neck stiffens, and I can’t help but wonder what cards she keeps close to her vest.

Chapter 13

Fireman Carry

Maddock has given me a lot to think about and even more I don’t want to think about—namely, the past. But in a weird time loop, my mind sticks on how he’s leaving for at least six weeks, which makes me think that all this will soon just be a memory.

The man blew into my life like a wrecking ball on fire, and I’m not sure I want to stop the destruction because that means maybe we can build something new—a future. But I have strings—adorable ones. Leonie and I come as a pair.

Mama sent yet another letter asking me about Ambrette’s baby. Says she has information and insists I call or write at the very least. I won’t be giving her the time of day now or anytime soon.

I’d rather put my hand in a blender than listen to her lies.

Thankfully, the restaurant is now open, keeping me from spending more time in my head. However, I’m now housing a family of rodents despite the big blue tarp over the hole in the roof of my trailer. If only Minou would do her job. Instead, she’s made herself at home, living the high life at the chateau.

I’d like to pick myself up by my bootstraps, get up on the single-wide’s roof, and fix the thing myself. But I know nothing about framing or shingles and I already received one courtesy roof from the kind people in my community. I don’t think they have another spare lying around.

If it weren’t for Maddock, I’d be in a dire, desperate situation.

It makes me feel small, helpless, and foolish.

I need a lollipop.

Mid-morning, Molly sidles up to the counter with a gleam in her eyes that tells me she knows something she shouldn’t or is about to ask a question that’s none of her business.

I get both.

“I’ve noticed some suspicious activity. I think someone has been prowling around the Tickle property at night.”

“It’s probably the crocogator.”

“You might want to take precautions or let me investigate.” Then, without a segue, she spends the next ten minutes asking me about Maddock’s grooming, eating, and sleeping habits.

I see her angle. She has the hots for the firefighter and wants to know everything about him. This makes sweat prickle my hairline. “Is this an interrogation?”

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