“Yeah, I … don’t even know what to say to that.” Griffin was conflicted.
“I didn’t recognize her. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand,” Griffin admitted. “Is Andrea … er, Amber … even a police detective?”
“Yes. She went through the academy in Monroe County under her own name. Other than changing her name, all of her credentials appear legitimate.”
“Why would she come to Detroit?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Maybe she didn’t have ulterior motives. Maybe there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why she changed her name.”
“We both know that’s not likely,” Griffin said, patting his lap. “Come here.”
“I … are you going to yell at me now?”
“No.”
I crossed over to him, lowering myself so I could sit between his legs. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder. I could practically hear his mind working.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“I’m thinking that Andrea purposely wanted to be paired with me because she wanted dirt on you.”
“I … how would that benefit her?”
“Andrea showed up after Genevieve Toth admitted that your mother survived the fire,” Griffin reminded me. “Maybe the Grimponds somehow got wind that we were closing in on something they’ve been trying to hide for ten years.”
“How?”
“The wraiths could have told them. Heck, Genevieve could’ve been closer to them than we realized. We might never know how they figured out what we were doing. I think Andrea’s appearance is a little too convenient.”
“Are you angry with me because I didn’t tell you what we were doing?”
“No. I know you didn’t want to upset me unless you had to.” Griffin smoothed my hair so he could kiss my cheek. “You didn’t run off and spy on our own. You had Redmond with you. I’m not angry. I’m just … baffled.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Right now I want to think about it,” Griffin replied. “We have knowledge on our side for a change. I don’t want to screw this up when we can use this to our benefit. We need to share this information with your father, too. He might have insight we don’t have.”
“You know he’ll want us to stay here again tonight, right? He’ll be worried about the gargoyles returning and he’ll want all of us under one roof.”
“I can live with that,” Griffin said, tickling my ribs. “I’m growing on him. He actually called me part of the family. He’s putty in my hands.”
I giggled and tried to escape from Griffin’s arms. He was too strong, and he wrestled me down and trapped me beneath him and mercilessly continued his tickle assault.
“It’s nice to hear you laugh,” he said. “You haven’t done that in days.”
“That’s starting to hurt,” I complained, my cheeks burning as I fought to catch my breath. “You’re going to be in big trouble if you’re not careful, mister.”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” Griffin teased. “I’m not going to let you up until you admit I’m the master of your universe.”
“No way.” I was laughing so hard tears pooled in the corner of my eyes. “Your ego is too big as it is.”
“Tell me I’m the master of your universe,” Griffin prodded, burying his face in the hollow of my neck to make growling noises and kiss the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Tell me.”
“Oh, this is exactly what I want to see when I walk into my office,” Dad grumbled, rounding the corner and stepping over us as though we weren’t even there. “There’s nothing a father wants more than to see his daughter and her boyfriend rolling around on the floor.”
“She can’t get up until she tells me I’m the master of her universe,” Griffin replied, unruffled.
“Oh, good luck with that, son,” Dad said. “You’ll find that women are always the masters of our universes. They have all the control, whether we want to admit it or not.”
“See,” I said. “I’m the master of your universe.”
“You’ve been the master of my universe since I met you,” Griffin conceded. “That doesn’t mean I’m letting you up until you bow down and tell me what I want to hear.”
“Yes, I just love watching a good bout of foreplay between my daughter and her boyfriend,” Dad muttered. “I still don’t understand how this happened. How did the handsy cop go from terrified to tyrant under my own roof?”
“You’re the one who told him he was part of the family,” I reminded him.
“I think I must be getting soft in my old age,” Dad said. “There can be no other explanation.”
“That must be it,” I agreed. “Ow! Griffin, let me up.”
“Not until you tell me what I want to hear,” Griffin pressed.
“Fine. You’re the master of my universe.”
“Good girl.”
“You’re also a big schmuck,” I muttered, screeching when Griffin started tickling me again.
“Seriously,” Dad complained. “How did my life come to this?”
Twenty-Eight
“Where is Barbara?” I asked, glancing around the dinner table an hour later. “Has she already bolted because we’re nuts?”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Barbara is checking on files at the main office,” he replied. “I invited her to dinner, but I think the promise of another fight is too much for her to bear. On top of that … well … I think she wants to give us time to deal with the idea of your mother being alive.”
“That’s nice of her,” I said. “She probably just doesn’t want to date a married man.”
“Eat your dinner, Aisling,” Dad ordered, agitated. “Just so there are no misunderstandings right now, my relationship with Barbara is not up for discussion. Not now. We have other things to deal with before that even becomes a consideration.”
“That’s probably smart,” Jerry said. “No one wants to broach the subject of you becoming a polygamist.”
Dad opened his mouth to respond and then snapped it shut while everyone dished dinner out onto their plates. After a few moments of silence, Dad decided to change the subject.
“Do you guys want to tell me what you were working on up in the east parlor today?” he asked, not wasting time once his dinner plate was full.
“How did you even know we were up there?” Redmond asked.
“I have five children. I know when three of you are hiding and doing something hinky.”
“Hinky? When did we enter an episode of Scooby-Doo?” I asked.
“You’re on thin ice as it is,” Dad warned. “After having to watch you and Griffin roll around on my office floor, I’m seriously considering locking him in the dungeon.”
“That sounds like it could be kinky instead of hinky, Bug,” Jerry said. “You might want to consider letting him do it.”
I snorted. “He’s exaggerating. No one was … rolling around.”
“Yes, I must have imagined all the squealing and giggling,” Dad deadpanned.
“Well, I’m glad that Aisling is having a good time,” Braden snapped. “I guess that means all the lying was worth it, huh?”
“Shut up, Braden,” Dad countered. “That was the first time I’ve heard your sister laugh – I mean really laugh – in weeks. It was a nice change of pace, despite the kissing that accompanied it. We’re not talking about Aisling right now – well, not completely. I want to know what Cillian, Redmond and Aisling were doing in the east wing.”
“We’re not hiding anything,” Redmond explained. “We … found something and we needed to conduct some research before we told everyone.”
“Well, we’re all here now,” Dad said.
“We went to the spot where the apartment building used to stand, but it wasn’t there any longer and there was nothing there for us to discover,” Redmond said. “Griffin mentioned that there was a file room where old reports go to die, and he thought there was a chance that maybe the missing portion of Mom�
��s file was there. We went to the precinct with him.”
Dad narrowed his eyes as he glanced at Griffin. “Is that what you were looking at in my office before you started groping my daughter?”
“I would argue about the groping but … well … there was a little groping,” Griffin conceded, smirking as Dad’s expression darkened. “Yes. I haven’t found anything yet. I’m not going to lie. I don’t like it. No matter what television or movies say, files don’t just go missing. Someone had to take the parts of that file that are missing. There’s no other reason to leave the rest of the file behind except to cover tracks.”
“Maybe it was Andrea,” Cillian suggested.
Braden furrowed his brow. “Who is Andrea?”
“My partner,” Griffin replied.
“Is she the woman you’re convinced has the hots for Griffin, Bug?” Jerry asked. “You said she had fake boobs and you wanted to pop them.”
“Thank you, Jerry,” I muttered.
Griffin slung an arm over my shoulders. “I’m starting to get the feeling that you were a little more worried about Andrea than you let on.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I clarified. “I was … observant. I watched her because I knew she up to something.”
“She was trying to steal your man,” Jerry interjected. “Did you beat her up?”
I had the distinct impression this conversation was starting to get away from me. “Just to be clear, I wasn’t jealous.”
“Of course not,” Jerry said, clucking sympathetically. “She’s evil. We get that. Tell us what evil thing she did to you so we can start planning our retribution.”
“I’m still confused about what Griffin’s partner has to do with this,” Braden said. “Other than stealing Aisling’s man, which she quite frankly deserves, so I’m rooting for the partner, what has this woman done that’s so wrong?”
“You’re rooting for her to steal my man?” All the sympathy I’d been storing up for Braden whooshed away in the wake of one mean sentence. “Seriously?”
“Is it wrong that I’m thrilled to be discussed like property?” Griffin asked. “It makes me all tingly.”
“I’m pretty sure you were perfectly happy with that feeling on Cormack’s office floor,” Jerry shot back.
Griffin scowled. “That’s not what we were doing!”
“Braden, stop poking your sister,” Dad said.
“Oh, good, now the conversation has gone to an even creepier place,” Cillian said. “I didn’t think it was possible. I was wrong.”
Dad was confused. “What?”
“You told Braden to stop poking his sister,” I explained. “That could have a … sexual connotation.”
“You’re all sick,” Dad muttered. “Every single one of you has a filthy mind.”
“That’s why they’re so entertaining,” Jerry said.
Dad frowned. “Jerry, eat your dinner.” He turned back to Redmond. “Can we get back to the part of the story I care about? As much as I love Aisling, I’m not particularly worried about Griffin cheating on her. I don’t care what this other woman does, she’s no match for Aisling on that front.”
“Oh, you say the sweetest things, Dad,” I teased.
Dad ignored me. “What’s the issue with Griffin’s partner?”
“Well, Aisling and I ran into her when we were at the precinct, and they stopped just short of clawing each other’s eyes out,” Redmond said. “Honestly, I half expected them to get into a soap opera slap fight.”
“I don’t slap,” I countered. “I punch. Just ask Braden.”
“I hate you,” Braden muttered.
“Focus on what’s important,” Dad ordered. “What’s about this Andrea woman?”
“Aisling came up with the bright idea to follow her,” Redmond said. “Personally, I thought it was a little pathetic. I agreed to go, though, because … well … I was bored and I didn’t want to look through more files.”
“Why did you want to follow her?” Dad asked, turning to me.
“I … .” I’d been asked this question three times now. I still didn’t have a reasonable answer. “I’ve never liked her. I … can’t put my finger on it. Since the first time we met there was something about her that bugged me. I’m starting to think there was a reason for that, and it’s not just because she was hitting on my man – although, to be fair, that was one of the biggest reasons.”
“That’s so romantic, baby,” Griffin said, patting my knee under the table.
“Griffin, put your hands where I can see them,” Dad instructed. “Try being more specific, Aisling. What didn’t you like about this woman?”
“The first time I met her was at the building where the wraith attacked and killed Grant Spencer,” I explained. “She seemed … pleasant, although I didn’t like the way she looked – or the way she eyed Griffin – the second I saw her.”
“I liked the way she looked,” Redmond said, his eyes glassing over. “There’s something hot about a woman who carries a gun.”
“I’m going to thump you,” I warned.
“Other than the fact that she was attractive and she looked hot with a gun, what didn’t you like about her?” Dad pressed. “You usually don’t get along with women. I want to know whether this is a case of your judgmental attitude or something that’s really important.”
“I am not judgmental!”
The entire table snorted in unison, causing me to cross my arms over my chest. My character was being maligned and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
“Aisling, you don’t like other women,” Dad said, choosing his words carefully. “You never have. The only friend you’ve ever had is Jerry.”
“So what?”
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it,” Dad said. “I’m simply saying you generally hate all women. I’ve never been able to figure out why.”
“It’s because she thinks like a guy,” Cillian supplied.
Did he just explain something? “Excuse me?”
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Cillian said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m saying that you were fixated on being one of the boys as a kid and now you … think like we do a lot of the time. You can’t help yourself.”
“You do kind of think like a man,” Griffin mused, tearing a breadstick in half. “I’ve never really thought about it that way before … but it makes sense. That’s probably why I like you so much.”
“If you’re about to come out, now probably isn’t the time,” Redmond teased.
Griffin rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I mean. She’s overly competitive. She doesn’t get mired in girl politics unless someone like Angelina … or Andrea … or Jerry throws it in her face. When she argues, she comes right at you most of the time. She’s not sneaky and passive aggressive.”
“Oh, come on,” Aidan scoffed. “She crawled into bed when she thought you were cheating on her with your sister.”
“Thanks for bringing that up again,” I muttered.
“Yes, but she listened to reason and I’m not sure I wouldn’t have jumped to the wrong conclusion if the situation was reversed,” Griffin said. “I’m not saying she doesn’t approach some problems as a woman would. In general, though, she argues and fights like a man.”
“I can’t help but feel that I’m being insulted,” I said, debating the merits of sinking into a righteous pout.
“You’re not being insulted,” Dad argued. “I’m simply trying to understand why you feel this Andrea person is a threat. We have a lot on our plate. We don’t have time to meander off on tangents because you’re worried Griffin’s partner is trying to get into his pants.”
“As much as I’m enjoying Aisling getting a good dose of reality, she’s not wrong on this one,” Redmond said. “We followed Andrea to a bar a few blocks over. She was meeting someone.”
“Who?”
“Everett Grimpond.”
Dad stilled, surprised. “Why would Andrea meet wit
h Everett?”
“We were suspicious ourselves,” Redmond answered. “Aisling said that Andrea pretended not to know Everett when they all met up at that restaurant by the precinct. It seemed a little too … coincidental.”
“That’s why we asked Cillian to run a search on her,” I added. “We wanted something concrete to go on before we started saying nasty things about Andrea. No matter what anyone says, I wanted to hate her for the right reasons.”
“Very pragmatic,” Dad said. “What did you find?”
“Her name isn’t Andrea Black,” I said. “As far as we can tell all of her credentials stand except for her name – and it looks as if Griffin’s boss, who is conveniently considering running for a Detroit City Council seat, knew from the beginning that she wasn’t who she said she was.”
“All right, this dramatic story-retelling thing you do … that’s something a woman would do,” Dad said. “It was cute when you were eight and explaining how the vase in the library ended up shattered on the floor. It’s not so cute now.”
“I still maintain we could’ve possibly had a ghost,” I argued.
“Or you could’ve been pretending to be Wonder Woman and the Hulk with Jerry and things got out of control when Superman swooped in to save the day,” Dad countered, arching a challenging eyebrow in Aidan’s direction. “You didn’t think I knew about that, did you?”
“Aisling was smashing things because she was in Hulk mode,” Aidan said, shifting the blame.
“Hey, I did not knock that vase over,” I snapped.
“That was me,” Jerry admitted. “There’s no sense in lying now. It was a long time ago. I was spinning and my magic bracelet got caught in Aisling’s hair. It was an accident.”
“That was also an antique,” Dad said.
“It was ugly. You should let it go,” Jerry said, nonplussed. “Bug, give us the dirt on Andrea. I don’t like where this conversation is going.”
I didn’t blame him. “Guess who Andrea Black really is?”
Cillian’s hand shot up.
“You already know,” I chided. “It’s not fair for you to guess.”
“No one is guessing,” Dad said, his tone grim. “Tell me right now.”
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