Crazy in Love (19 page)

“
No. My bookkeeper was supposed to have the third quarter reports waiting for me to fax to Dad.”

“
There was nothing in that sentence about blood or fire.”

“
And she’s not here. And neither are the reports.”

“
So?”

“
So… Dad wanted the third quarter financials by this morning. I need your help, Fray.”

Freya groaned.
“Do you even know what time it is in Tucson?”

“
Annabelle has this strange computer system and it’s got a password on it and I can’t get into it and Dad—”

“
It’s six forty-seven. In the morning.”

“
—wants these end of quarter reports and I don’t—”

“
On my last day. My
last day
to sleep in. Do you know what that means?”

“
—know how to pull the reports—”

“
Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

Flynn could hear the sound of bedding being thrown and she quieted, waiting for Freya
’s instructions.

“
You can’t call this Tinkerbell at home and get the password?”

“
Annabelle. And no, there’s no answer at her home number. I think she might have called in sick, because the
voice mail light is blinking, but I don’t know how to get the voice mail messages.”

“
And no one else there has access to this system? You have
one person
in
complete ownership
of an entire system? Is this what you’re telling me?”

“
Pretty much. And I can’t take reservations, either, because the reservations system is part of the bookkeeping system. I guess. At least, that’s the way I understand it.”

“
Jesus. You have one person in complete ownership of
two
systems
? What kind of place are you running there, Flynn?”

“
Don’t blame me. This is how Esther had it. I’ll give her a healthy ration of shit for it later, but right now—”

Freya cut her off.
“Please tell me you didn’t say you were going to give our dead aunt a healthy ration of shit. I don’t care if that’s what you said. Just say you didn’t say it.”

Flynn rolled her eyes.
“I didn’t say it. What I need right now is to get these reports to Dad. He said he wanted them by this morning, and—”

“
Tell him no. Tell him he’ll get them when you’re damn good and ready to get them to him, and not a moment sooner. He’s got the financials from the second quarter, and all the quarters before that back to roughly 1776, so that’s good enough to work a sale from. He’s just testing you. Call him back, tell him to bite your ass, and
you
pass the test.”

Flynn sat back in her chair and took the opening.
“Won’t that upset his angina?”

There was a short pause.
“Hmmm. What?”

“
His heart. I mean, if I don’t get him these reports,
he’ll get upset. Stressed out. Isn’t that the whole reason I’m here in the first place?”

A longer pause.
“No.”

Wow. That was easy.
“I see.”

“
No, you don’t see, and I don’t have time to make you see. We’ll talk about it later. The point is, don’t let
him
push you around. Just call him, tell him it’s not happening, and go have a cigarette.”

“
I don’t smoke.”

“
Then start. You’re working for Dad now. Welcome to the world of unhealthy coping addictions.”

Flynn sighed.
“Fray? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

There was a long pause, and just as Flynn was going to check and make sure Freya was still on the line, she said,
“I was worried about you.”

“
What? Why?”

“
That neighborhood wasn’t safe. I’ve been bugging you to move for years, but you wouldn’t, and it was keeping me up nights, so I lied. Okay?”

Flynn sat back, stunned.
“Um. Okay.”

“
Okay. So what’s up with you?”

“
Nothing. I’m fine.”

“
Then why is your voice going all high when you say you’re fine? Don’t lie to me. You woke me up. I’m cranky. What’s going on?”

Flynn rubbed at the tension in her neck.
“Aunt Esther made me put her cows back up. Oh, and they just pulled a body from the Hudson that may or may not have been killed by someone in my immediate acquaintance. And I think I’m falling for the bartender. Except he quit. So… I don’t know. I guess it’s okay.”

There was a long pause, then,
“So, this bartender. Is he cute?”

“
He’s…” Flynn tried to think of a word to describe Tucker. Something that encompassed his kindness, his humor, the way his smile warmed places inside her she didn’t know had gone cold, what his slightest touch did to her fun parts. “He’s…”

“
Oh, holy hell,” Freya said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Through the phone, Flynn heard the distinctive sound of a lighter igniting, followed by Freya
’s deep inhale.

“
They have smoking rooms at the spa?” Flynn asked.

“
No.” Exhale. “Look, honey. Call Dad. Tell him he can bite your ass for the stupid reports. Take the incoming reservations on paper, and when your little Annawhatsis comes back, you put the fear of God into her. I’m serious. Threaten her job outright, don’t bother with subtlety. Tell her to start researching hospitality software and get someone else trained on the system you’ve got
immediately.
Then, go find your bartender and have him make you the biggest margarita allowed by state law.”

“
Wow. You’re a fun boss.”

Freya snorted.
“Don’t come to any conclusions till we’re back home.”

Flynn felt herself go tense.
Back home.
Well, that was the plan. And it was what she wanted. Museums. The T. Not a ceramic cow creamer anywhere to be found.

No rose gardens.

No Mercy’s pumpkin risotto.

No Tucker.

“Look, babe, I gotta go,” Freya said. “You got it under control?”

Flynn forced a smile and tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.
“You bet.”

She set the phone down on the cradle, and stared at it for a long time. Something was up with Freya, but she knew she wasn
’t going to find out until Freya was damn good and ready to tell her. If she was ever damn good and ready to tell her. That’s just the way it was with Freya.

So she might as well deal with her other family member. When she
’d called earlier, Dad’s secretary had said he was in a meeting and would be back at his desk around ten. She raised her eyes back to the blinking cursor in the password box. That gave her a little more than an hour to try and get those reports in. She knew Freya was probably right about how to handle things with Dad, but how could she expect Flynn to toss away thirty years of dysfunctional family dynamic just like that? It wasn’t reasonable.

And it wouldn
’t hurt to
try
to get those reports, right?

She tapped her fingernails on the desk as she thought. She
’d done all the obvious passwords—Annabelle, DeCross, various combinations thereof, the phone number for the front desk, Annabelle’s birth date, which was in two weeks; Flynn remembered seeing the date circled on the calendar in the break room. There was only one thing left that she thought might work, but it was so juvenile, she was almost embarrassed to have thought of it. She glanced around, then reached for the keyboard and typed in
AD+JT4Ever
and hit enter.

The screen flashed quickly, and then the box came back up. Flynn rolled her eyes at herself for even thinking the password would be such a thing. She decided
that she was done, it was over… but then something occurred to her. She put her hands back on the keyboard and typed.

JT+AD4Ever
.

The screen flashed again and then went completely black for a moment. At first Flynn thought she
’d tanked the entire system—she and computers didn’t have a friendly history—but then, to her shock, the software popped up on the screen.

“
Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered. She pushed herself away from the desk to go get some coffee. It was going to be a long day of trying to figure out how to pull reports while trying to forget that Annabelle was, apparently, mentally fourteen years old.

As was Flynn. Apparently.

It was going to be a long day.

***

Jake pushed through the swinging doors of the Arms’ kitchen, and was instantly yanked into the walk-in freezer by Mercy.

“
Oh, my God, Jake,” she said. “I’ve been trying to call you all morning. Where have you been?”

“
At the cabin. What’s up?”

“
What cabin? Dad’s old cabin? What are you doing at the cabin?”

“
Cleaning it out. Which brings me to a favor. I need—”

Mercy smacked his arm.
“A favor? No time for favors, Jake. That body they pulled from the river?” Her voice raised into a hysterical whisper.
“
That was Elaine Placie
!”

“
I know,” Jake said, rubbing his arms for warmth.

“
Only she’s not really Elaine Placie,” Mercy continued. “It’s some other woman whose name I can’t remember.”

“
Eileen Dietz. I know.”

Mercy blinked.
“You know? You read the paper?”

Jake tried to work up an offended look.
“I get the paper.”

Mercy lifted one eyebrow.
“Since when?”

“
Fine. Flynn gets the paper. I saw it this morning at Flynn’s. Speaking of which, I need you to make me a nice dinner for two that can sit at the cabin for a while. You know, something that doesn’t necessarily need to be hot, but will still impress the hell out of her.”

Mercy crossed her arms over her chest.
“This morning? At
Flynn’s
?”

“
Like, you know, a picnic. But a nice one. With a bottle of wine. Maybe some cheese. Those tiny little sandwiches you girls like so much. Oh, and I need it by four. You think you can do that?”

“
It’s food. I’m the food miracle worker. I can do anything. Let’s get back to this morning at Flynn’s. Are you sleeping with our boss?”

“
Depends on your definition of ‘sleeping with,’ and she’s not my boss anymore. I quit.”

Mercy stared at him blankly for a long moment.
“I don’t even know what to say.”

“
Hey, that’s something new and different. Just put something together for me, okay? I’ll be by to pick it up at four. Oh, and I need your house keys.”

He held out one palm. She glanced down at it, then looked back up at him.
“Are you kidding me with this?”

“
No. I have a date. With Flynn. We’re going to the cabin for a nice dinner, but first I have a laptop I need to print some documents from, and I need your printer. Come on, Merce. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

Mercy reached into her pocket and held the keys up, just out of his reach.

“I’ll do it. On one condition.”

Jake sighed. He knew what was coming.
“Fine. Sunday dinner.”

“
Not just you. Bring Flynn, too.”

Jake pulled his hand away.
“No. No way am I subjecting her to the five of you and your insane little girlfriend trial.”

“
It’s not a trial. It’s an attempt to get to know the girl. Make sure she’s worthy. We don’t tar and feather them, we just ask questions.”

Jake clenched his teeth.
“Okay. Sunday night. We come, we eat, we leave. One hour.”

He reached for the keys, but Mercy pulled them back.
“Three hours. You stay for dessert.”

“
Two hours. No dessert. And no questions even grazing the subjects of weddings or babies.”

Mercy sighed and
dropped the keys into Jake’s open palm.

“
Fine. Come back at four and your picnic will be waiting for you.”

Jake grinned, kissed Mercy on the cheek, and headed for the door, stopping only when she called his name. He turned to see her watching him, a look of concern on her face.