Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Of course. I was just confused by the name of the club.”
At least that’s one less thing to be concerned about. I can tell Brendan and Donny that the club is on the up-and-up. Or at least not related to Wendy and her motives.
“I do have things in motion, though.”
“How can you? You’ve been hospitalized, sedated at your own request, for the past… I don’t even know how long.”
“I had to go underground.”
“Then why not actually go underground? Why sedate yourself? Who would agree to that, anyway?”
“It’s easy to find people to agree to do just about anything when you wave enough cash in front of them.”
Of course. I should have known. My own family waves cash around. This is why I’ll never do that. I don’t want to be anything like this woman.
“What do you have in motion?” I ask. “What was in motion while you were hospitalized?”
“I have people all over who see to my interests. In Grand Junction, but mostly in Denver.”
My mind flies to the letter Brendan and his father received. It came from a law firm in Denver.
I work hard, keeping my facial features noncommittal.
“Grandmother, I want to do what you ask. I want to find my destiny. But there are certain things I can’t do.”
“I understand, Ava. It’s difficult at first. It was difficult for me, too. But these things have to get done, and you’re the only one who can carry out my wishes.”
“I don’t know why you need me, Grandmother. The nurse says you’re in excellent health. You may live another ten years.”
“I may, but it’s not likely. I’ve already lived more lives than a cat. Will you do what I ask of you?”
Fulfill her legacy? Of killing? Of human trafficking? Of drug smuggling? Of God knows what else?
Not only no, but hell no. If I were Rory Pike, a trained actress, I could easily convince my grandmother otherwise. But I’m not an actress. I’m simply me.
But I can do it. I can do it because I have to do it.
I take her hand. Again hold it in my own. She has pretty nails, shaped like mine. And though her hand is wrinkled, I see that it bears a strong resemblance to my own.
“I’ll do what I have to do, Grandmother. I will find my destiny.”
“I know you will, Ava. Now, listen closely. Here’s the first thing you need to do.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Brendan
My family’s small house is filled to the brim at ten the next morning. Mom ordered coffee and pastries from Rita’s café, and Rita delivered them herself, as she’s attending the meeting.
If Ava’s bakery were open, would Mom have ordered from there? Probably not, because the town is coming together to plot against the Steel family.
Ava may be her own woman, but she is still a Steel. That’s how everyone standing in my living room sees it.
Ava spent the night at her parents’ house, and we talked after her conversation with her grandmother. She’s holding her own, even though it’s very difficult. She has to maintain her act, or her grandmother will see right through her.
People are mingling, talking, drinking coffee, and eating cinnamon buns.
Until my dad clangs a spoon on his coffee mug.
“Hey, everyone,” Dad says. “I wish we had more seating, but feel free to take a seat on the floor if you need to take a load off.”
“Let’s get to it, Sean,” Cyrus, the tattoo artist, says.
“Good enough, Cy,” Dad says. “We’re here because we all got letters saying we had to pay off liens on our respective properties held by the Steel Trust.”
“Mr. Murphy,” Carmelita Mayer says, “I can’t afford to pay off this lien. I’m still holding a mortgage on my property, and you know I’m widowed.”
I take a look at Mrs. Mayer. She’s a lovely older woman with graying black hair. She makes delicious empanadas, and…Pat Lamone rents a room from her.
Pat Lamone isn’t present, of course. He doesn’t own property in this town.
“I know, Mrs. Mayer,” Dad says. “To varying degrees, we’re all in the same boat as you, and I’m sure sorry.”
“What if we start a pool?” someone says. “Maybe we can help those with the most to lose pay off the liens.”
“That’s a nice idea,” Dad says, “but it won’t work long-term, and we all know it.”
“I’ve got family in Denver who can help me,” someone else says, “but I’m one of the lucky ones.”
“Now wait a minute.” I walk to the front and stand next to Dad. “Donny Steel, who as you all know is our city attorney, doesn’t know what the Steel Trust is. Neither do his father and uncles. They are not the Steels that we have beef with. We have the issue with whoever is behind the Steel Trust.”
“Who the hell else would be behind something called the Steel Trust?” Hardy Solomon, the sheriff, asks.