Page 71 of Engulfing Emma

“She’s in the shower, remember? You can hear the water down here. You’ve got a good ten minutes.”

“I get the feeling you know a lot more about your mom than she’d like you to.”

“Do you want the cookie or not?” she asks. “We have milk, too.”

“We?” I ask, then I look back down the kitchen hallway to see Evie’s grandmother saluting me from the kitchen.

This is horrifying in so many ways. And Emma would be beside herself if she knew her mom and Evie had caught me leaving.

Evie’s grandmother waves me into the kitchen. I follow Evie down the hall. Mostly because I’m curious about Emma’s family.

“Hot or cold?” Evie’s grandmother asks.

“Ma’am?”

“Do you like your milk hot or cold?”

“Uh, cold, thank you.”

She pours me a glass and then sits at the table. She extends a hand. “Enid Lockhart. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.”

“How do you …?”

“A mother knows things.” She winks at Evie.

“Please call me Brett.”

“Well, Brett, this has been an exciting few weeks for our little block, now hasn’t it?”

I raise my eyebrows. She knows I live across the street?

“Don’t be surprised,” she says, handing me a napkin. “I’m a woman who knows everyone and everything. Bonnie, she’s your nanny. We play euchre together every Thursday—when you’re not on shift, that is. It’s amazing what you can learn at euchre.” She puts a finger under my jaw, closing my gaping mouth. “Now go on, eat your cookie. Everyone needs a midnight snack now and again.”

I do what she tells me. I get the feeling this woman always gets what she wants. “Wow, this is good.” I turn to Evie. “Did you make these?”

She shakes her head. “Mom did. She’s a really good baker.”

“I know. I’ve tasted a lot of her creations.”

Enid smiles as if she already knew.

A strip of pictures is on the table. I pick it up and study the face of a beautiful girl who looks a bit older than Evie. “Is this Emma?”

She nods. “That’s her and my father.”

I look at the young man in the picture. “This is Stefan?”

“She told you his name?” Enid asks.

“Yeah, why?”

She smiles and wipes up some cookie crumbs off the table. “No reason.”

“Grandma and I are planning a trip to Germany to find him,” Evie says.

“You don’t say?”

“Mom won’t fly, so don’t tell her. She would flip out. I mean, we’ll have to tell her sooner or later because she’s my mom and all, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

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