Page 123 of Wicked Pickle

I wait at the base of the stairs while she hurries to the back, Merrick on her heels.

They return in mere seconds.

“All clear,” Greta says. “He’s up there.”

We take the steps quietly, Greta first, then me, and then Merrick.

Greta’s house is clean and organized, decorated in muted tones like a furniture store display. The only personalized items on our path are baby photos of Caden on the wall as we pass.

We arrive at the upper floor. Greta lifts a finger to her lips to keep us quiet as she goes to the left. She opens a door to reveal Caden already firing up his PlayStation, headphones in place. He doesn’t notice us.

She quietly closes the door again and draws in a deep breath.

I give her a confident nod.

More family pictures line this hall. Greta’s wedding day with Jude. The two of them on a boat that I recognize as Uncle Sherman’s. Then with baby Caden as he grows.

I pause at one. It’s a group picture, not unlike the one we took weeks ago at Rhett’s wedding. Caden is tiny, so it was a while back, and naturally, Merrick and I aren’t in it.

But the entire rest of the Pickle clan is. Sherman and his sons. The Armstrong segment. Grammy. Then Mom and Dad with Greta and Sunny. Must have been before she married the prince.

There’s another one a few feet down, same group, only with a few more women as the cousins pair off.

I try not to feel anything about what I’ve missed. It doesn’t matter. We left for a reason.

And now, we’re back for a new one.

Greta stops outside a half-open door, standing taller as if she’s preparing herself for a confrontation.

“We’ve got you,” I say in a low voice.

She nods. “Wait here.”

Merrick and I stand like sentinels outside the door as she goes in. Jude is so into whatever show he’s watching that he doesn’t see her at first. I glance at the screen.

Three naked women writhe together.

Great. He’s spending his time after his wife left him watching porn.

Greta notices and stops cold. For a moment, I wonder if Jude is yanking his chain, or if she’s noticing the content of the film.

But he turns and sees her and jumps off the oversized chair.

“Greta!” He fumbles with the remote, trying to shut it off but only succeeding in making it move in fast forward, the women pumping at double speed.

Merrick and I glance at each other. We have no idea if this is a normal occurrence in their house or not. Given his panic to shut it off, I’m guessing not.

Greta’s voice is bitter. “Caden is in his room.”

Jude finally ejects the DVD entirely. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” He holds out his arms. “You came back!”

He moves to embrace her, but Greta steps back. “I decided to get my house back. You can pack and leave.”

Jude drops his arms. “This is my home, too.”

“Only until we get a temporary order in place.”

He frowns. “Order?”

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