Page 58 of Suzanna's Surrender
“Bastard.” Choking on rage, Holt turned away to flick the cigarette onto the rocks.
“He didn’t want them. The idea was to ship them off to a boarding school. Or that was the threat. He backed off when Suzanna made the settlement.”
His hands were on the stone rail now, fingers digging in. “What settlement?”
“She gave him damn near everything. He dropped the case so the arrangements could be made privately. He got the house, all the property, along with a chunk of her inheritance. She could have fought it, but she and the kids were already an emotional mess. She didn’t want to take any chances with them or put them through any more stress.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Holt drank in a futile attempt to wash the bitterness from his throat. “He’s not going to hurt her or the kids anymore. I’ll see to it.”
“I thought you would.” Trent rose, satisfied. He pulled a list out of his pocket and exchanged it for Holt’s empty bottle. “Let me know what you find out.”
“Yeah.”
“The séance tonight.” Trent saw Holt grimace and laughed again. “It may surprise you.”
“The only thing that surprises me is that Coco talked me into it.”
“If you plan on sticking around, you’ll have to get used to being talked into all manner of things.”
He was going to stick around, all right, Holt thought as Trent walked away. He just needed to find the right way to tell Suzanna. After glancing at the names on the list, Holt tucked it away. He’d make a couple of calls and see what he could dig up.
As he started across the lawn, the dogs galloped up to him, Fred devotedly pressing to Sadie’s side. When they stopped jumping long enough to be petted, Fred lapped frantically at her face. Sadie tolerated it, then turned away and ignored him.
“They’ve got a name for women like you,” Holt told her.
“Remember the Alamo!” Alex shouted. He stood spread legged on the roof of his fort, a plastic sword in his hand. Because he counted on his challenge being answered, his eyes gleamed as they met Holt’s. “You’ll never take us alive.”
“Oh yeah?” Unable to resist, Holt moved closer. “What makes you think I want you, monkey brain?”
“’Cause we’re the patriots and you’re the evil invaders.”
Jenny popped her head through an opening that served as a window. Before Holt could evade it, he was hit dead center of the chest with a splat of water from her pistol. Alex let out a triumphant hoot as Holt scowled down at his shirt.
“I suppose you know,” Holt said slowly, “this means war.”
As Jenny shrieked, he grabbed her and pulled her through the window. To her delight, he held her upside down so that her two blond ponytails brushed the grass.
“He’s taken a hostage!” Alex bellowed. “Death to the last man.” He scrambled inside then burst out of the doorway, brandishing his sword. Holt barely had time to right Jenny before the little missile plowed into him. “Off with his head,” Alex chanted, echoed by his sister. Holt let his body go lax and took them both to the ground with him.
There were screams and giggles as he wrestled with them. It wasn’t as easy as he’d supposed. They were both agile and slick, wriggling out of his hold to attack. He found himself at a disadvantage as Alex sat on his chest and Jenny found a spot on his ribs to tickle.
“I’m going to have to get rough,” he warned them. When he took a spray of water in the face, he swore, making them both howl with laughter. A quick roll and he dislodged the pistol, then snatched it up to drench them both. With shrieks and giggles, they fell on him.
It was a wet and messy battle, and when he finally managed to pin them, they were all out of breath.
“I massacred you both,” Holt managed. “Say uncle.” Jenny poked a finger in his ribs, making him twitch. In defense he lowered his cheek to her neck and rubbed a day’s worth of stubble over her skin.
“Uncle, uncle, uncle!” She screamed, gurgling with laughter. Satisfied, he used the same weapon on Alex until victorious he rolled over and lay stomach down on the grass.
“You killed us,” Alex admitted, not displeased. “But you’re morally wounded.”
“Yeah, but I think you mean mortally.”
“Are you going to take a nap?” Jenny climbed onto his back to bounce. “Lilah sleeps in the grass sometimes.”
“Lilah sleeps anywhere,” Holt muttered.
“You can take a nap in my bed if you want,” she invited, then pressed a curious finger on the edge of the scar she saw beneath his hitched-up T-shirt. “You have a hurt on your back.”
