Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jason stepped out onto the driveway and slammed the car door shut. He crumpled the fast-food bag in his hand and walked toward the side of the house. Mildred still kept the trash cans there. Dumping his trash, he wrinkled his nose at the fetid scent and held his hand over his stomach.

He hadn’t had a milkshake in years. Spite hadn’t been a good enough reason to start now. Still, the outrage on that bitch’s face had been enough to make it worth it.

Of all the people to run into. The chances seemed astronomical.

Then again, there weren’t any other fast-food places in all of Brandywood, it seemed. And he’d been driving for nine hours. He’d only stopped for gas, and he’d been starving.

A shot rang out.

Jason dove behind the trash can, a terrible shelter, but the first one he saw.

It reeked.

“Put your hands up and stand up, slowly.” Mildred’s voice was a short distance from him.

He peeked out from behind the trash can. God, she didn’t age, did she? She didn’t look a day older than when he’d last seen her, even though he knew she had to be creeping on eighty. Her hair was bright, curly white, but it had been for as long as he remembered.

Jason held his hands up in front of him and stood. She held a shotgun in her hands and stared down the barrel. “Is that any way to greet your grandson?”

Mildred didn’t lower the gun. “If it’s the grandson I think it is, then yes.”

Then she was still mad at him. Good. Better to get these things out in the open immediately. He threw his shoulders back with confidence. “As it so happens, I’m your only grandson.”

The gun lowered slowly, Mildred’s creased face paling. A wave of sadness crossed her face, and she marched toward him. She was a foot away when Jason realized what was happening, but by then, it was too late to grab her wrist. Her slap rang into the air, stinging his cheek. Five-foot-nothing, she stared at him with blazing blue eyes. “You son of a bitch. That’s how you tell me Kevin’s dead?”

“I didn’t think you would care.” Jason held his cheek. For an old lady, his grandmother could still strike hard.

Now she laughed without a trace of humor. “Ah, of course. Right. I don’t care. Because it was me that disowned my daughter. Me, who refused to allow me admittance to her hospital room. Me, who sent back Christmas cards and birthday presents.” Mildred scowled, her finger crooking as she spoke. “You sorry bastard. Go back to the hellhole you came from and leave me alone. I’ve spent the past thirty-five years trying to piece my life back together since your father took my only daughter away from me and your bastard grandfather made sure she’d never come back.”

She turned and started back toward the house, shotgun tucked under her elbow.

“Look, the old bastard is dead.” Jason followed her up the walkway to her split-level brick home. Thank goodness she lived in the middle of the woods. The gunshot would have attracted neighbors otherwise.

Mildred stopped at the door, glaring at him. “Well, you might want to watch out. It sounds like Cavanaugh men are dropping like flies.”

She attempted to slam the door in his face, but he stopped it with his foot. Ouch. He placed a hand on the doorknob. “Come on, Mildred. I just want to talk about Kevin. I understand he might have spent some time with you before he died.”

The sadness returned to her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tough old bird. It was what his grandfather had always called her. He hadn’t understood the term as a kid. When she showed up unexpectedly at his mother’s funeral fifteen years ago, his grandfather had put him in charge of getting rid of her. Old man Cavanaugh had called her something different then. Meddling bitch , if Jason remembered correctly.

That was the last time he’d seen Mildred.

Jason didn’t remove his foot from the doorway. If he did, chances were he wouldn’t get her to open the door again. “You don’t have to like me, but we have something in common. We both, apparently, gave a damn about Kevin. I’m trying to find out more about what the hell happened to him before he died.”

He almost felt bad for putting it that way. He wasn’t lying exactly. Every word he’d said was true. She didn’t need to know about the inheritance or the reasons he wanted to know about Kevin.

Mildred sucked air between her yellowed teeth, the fine lines around her lips tightening. Her eyes became like slits. “You found out about the kid, didn’t you?”

Shit.

“What kid?” He tried to keep his face blank.

She chuckled, giving a slow shake of her head. “You really think I’m that stupid, don’t you? Just like your grandfather.” She pointed a finger at him. “You stay away from that girl, you hear? She’s one of the nicest girls in this damn town and doesn’t deserve you stirring up any trouble for her. If I regret anything in my life, it’s the day I introduced Kevin to her. He ruined her life. Leave her alone.”

Nicest girl in town. Jason almost rolled his eyes. Then again, Brandywood had people like Mildred running around it—who greeted strangers with shotguns. Bunch of crazy backcountry inbreeds.

“Just five minutes of your time.” Jason straightened and held his hands up, dragging his foot out of the door. “I drove nine hours to talk to you. I’m not asking for much.”

“Nine hours?” Mildred smirked, lifting her chin. “Sounds like something’s got you real scared, sonny.”

“Mildred, please. I need five minutes.”

She squinted at him, one eye practically closing. “Come back next week. I’ve got a trip to the casinos with the ladies from church coming up this weekend, and right now, I want to spend some time mourning the death of another family member I wasn’t given the courtesy of saying goodbye to.” She slammed the door in his face.

Jason covered his face with his hands. He should have known better than to come here. She had every reason to hate him. And who knew what Kevin had told her.

He went back to his car and pulled out his cell phone. Barely any signal. Perfect.

Why would a place like this have normal things like Wi-Fi?

Opening a hotel app, he searched for local hotels. Nothing he recognized came up. The closest four-star hotel was forty minutes away, a ski resort. A few fleabag motels and inns with two- or three-star ratings. And some cabins that promised a luxury “glamping experience.” They, at least, had almost perfect reviews, Internet access, and were only five minutes away.

He booked a cabin for the week. He wasn’t about to go back to Chicago empty-handed. In the meantime, he would lie low here and work remotely. He’d prepared himself to stick it out here as long as it took for Mildred to warm up to him and sign the agreement his lawyers had drawn up. But she better warm up soon. Before Ned Vickers found her. And then the bitch with her brat.