Sixth Grave on the Edge Read Free

‘How do you get blood out of silk?’ Because as PIs, we’ll need to know stuff like that.”
    “I’m sure you’re right.” The file caught my attention again, and I turned back to the Foster house. “Blood can be stubborn.” Maybe I should just walk up and knock on the door. I could say I was helping a friend with an old case. I could ask if there were any new developments we hadn’t been informed of. I could ask if they knew that the man recently released from prison after doing ten years for a crime he didn’t commit was their son. I could ask if they knew what he’d been through, what he’d suffered at the hands of the man who raised him. But what good would adding guilt on top of guilt do anybody?
    “Are you okay, pumpkin cheeks?”
    I shook out of my thoughts. “Yeah, it’s just … well, two hours down the drain, and for what?” I gestured toward the Fosters’ house. “A foot in a sensible shoe driving a sensible car.”
    She looked across the street toward the house. “What were you hoping to see?”
    Her question took me by surprise. Even I wondered what I was really doing there. Did I simply want to see the woman who might have given birth to the man of my dreams? Did I want a glimpse of the man who may have been his human father?
    Reyes was the son of Satan, forged in the fires of hell, but he’d been born on earth to be with me. To grow up with me. He’d done his homework and chose a steady, professional couple to be his human parents. He’d planned for us to go to the same schools, shop at the same stores, and eat at the same restaurants. Sadly, even the best-laid plans go awry.
    “I’m not really sure, Aunt Lil.” What had I been hoping to see? A glimpse of Reyes’s past? Of his future? What he would look like in the years to come? Since it had been only a few days since a crazy man tried to kill me, I was trying not to rush terribly headlong into any situation, no matter how innocuous it might seem on the surface. I’d decided to take the week off. Reckless behavior would just have to wait until I’d healed a tad more.
    “Goodness, that won’t do. You can’t just call me Aunt Lil willy-nilly. We’ll definitely need code names. What do you think of Cleopatra?”
    I chuckled softly. “I think it’s perfect.”
    “Oh! Trench coats! We’ll need trench coats!”
    “Trench coats?”
    “And fedoras!”
    Before I could question her further, she was gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. I loved that woman. She took eccentric to a whole new level. Still, I had work to do, and sitting at a stakeout just to catch a glimpse of the Fosters was ridiculous. I started Misery, then picked up the Cheez-Its and stuffed a handful into my mouth the very second the phone rang. Naturally. Because when else would it ring?
    I hurried and chewed before answering my bestie’s ring. Cookie worked cheap, which made her the best receptionist in all of Albuquerque, in my humble opinion. But she was also very good at her job. I’d set her on the task of finding everything she could about the Fosters. She was as fascinated as I was.
    After another quick sip to wash down the crumbs, I finally answered. “Do you think if I lived on Cheez-Its and coffee alone, I’d ultimately starve to death?”
    “They had another son,” she said, her voice full of awe.
    I had no idea what that had to do with my question. “Does he eat Cheez-Its?”
    “The Fosters.”
    I bolted upright. “Can you repeat that?”
    “The Fosters had another son.”
    “No way.”
    “Way.” I heard her fingernails clicking on the keyboard as she worked her magic. “Very much way.”
    “After Reyes?”
    “Yes. Three years after the abduction.”
    “Do you know what this means?” I asked, my awe matching her own.
    “I certainly do.”
    “Reyes Farrow—”
    “—has a brother.”
    #Holyshit.

 
    2
    Note to self: Thanks for always being there.
    —T-SHIRT
     
    I sat stewing in a foggy kind of astonishment. Cook did, too. We sat in