Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(41)

He took the napkin from me. “I’ll get right on it. And there’s one more

thing.”

“What?”

“Ms. Shaw has been visiting Ashland on and off for several months, even

before she first approached Finn.” He grabbed his tablet again. “She’s been

putting together an exhibit of fine jewelry and rare gemstones at the Briartop

Art Museum. Ticket sales will benefit her charitable foundation.”

Silvio turned his tablet around to show me the museum’s website. A photo of a

diamond ring was front and center, the design a smaller version of Deirdre’s

icicle-heart necklace.

“Ms. Shaw has donated several of her own personal pieces to the exhibit,” he

continued. “It’s the first big event the museum has hosted since—”

“Since Jonah McAllister hired Clementine Barker and her giants to rob

everyone and swipe Mab Monroe’s will from the Briartop vault,” I said,

finishing his thought. “Do you think Jonah is involved with Deirdre?”

Jonah McAllister was another thorn in my side. The smarmy lawyer had tried to

have me killed multiple times, including that night at Briartop.

Silvio shook his head. “I don’t think so. Jonah is holed up in his mansion,

waiting for his trial to start. He hardly ever leaves it. As far as I can

tell, he’s never had any contact with Ms. Shaw. Not so much as a phone call,

text, or email.”

The fact that Deirdre and Jonah didn’t seem to know each other and probably

weren’t working together was an unexpected bit of good news. But Silvio’s

intel still didn’t tell me what Deirdre was really up to. If she was already

skimming millions from her charity foundation, then why go to all the time and

trouble to set up an exhibit here in Ashland? Why sashay into First Trust,

give the bank access to her accounts, and run the risk of someone realizing

where all that charity money was really going?

It didn’t make sense, unless . . . unless Deirdre truly did want to get close

to Finn.

Could I be wrong? Could Deirdre be legit? Well, as legit as a charity scammer

could be? Could she genuinely want to reconnect with her son?

No—no way. I didn’t know Deirdre, but I did know Fletcher. If the old man

claimed she was dangerous, then that’s exactly what she was. Besides, Deirdre

had had thirty-plus years to reappear in Finn’s life. So why the sudden

interest in her son now?

Something was going on here, and I was going to figure out exactly what it was

—and how best to protect Finn from whatever his mother might be planning.





13

The day passed by like any other, with the usual blur of cooking, cleaning,

and customers. But as three o’clock crept closer, my friends started to

appear.

Owen was the first one through the door. He kissed me on the cheek, told me

that he was here if I needed anything, and then sat in a booth out of the way.

I was grateful for his strong, silent support.

Jo-Jo arrived next, wearing a white cashmere cardigan over a pale pink dress

patterned with tiny pink roses. Her usual strand of pearls hung around her

throat, and she had white kitten heels on her feet, making her look every inch

the Southern lady she was. Jo-Jo always looked elegant, but she had taken a

little extra care with her appearance today, her white-blond hair curled just

so, her makeup flawless, her nails gleaming with a fresh coat of pale pink

polish.

Jo-Jo slid onto the stool closest to the cash register. She murmured hello to

Silvio, who returned her greeting, although he kept his eyes locked on his

phone as he texted. Jo-Jo leaned forward and waved at Sophia, who was sliding

a tray of sourdough buns into one of the ovens. Sophia turned, and I caught

sight of her black T-shirt, which featured a white heart that had been broken

in two and was dripping blood off both sharp, jagged ends. I grimaced. The

image reminded me of Deirdre’s icicle-heart rune.

I looked at Jo-Jo. “How’s Finn?”

She shrugged. “After you left last night, Bria, Sophia, and I all tried to

talk to him, but he just took a shower and went to bed. He stayed shut up in

one of the spare bedrooms until late this morning, then crept out after I was

busy in the salon. He didn’t say good-bye, and he didn’t even drink any of

the chicory coffee I made for him.”

Finn had left without guzzling down his usual pot of coffee? Not good. I hadn

’t texted or called him this morning, figuring that he might need more time

to cool off after the whopper of a secret I’d kept from him. But it sounded

like he was angrier than I’d thought.

Bria arrived about five minutes later, telling the same story as Jo-Jo. She’d

tried to talk to Finn last night and again this morning, but he hadn’t

responded to any of her messages.

There was nothing I could do until he showed up, so I kept on cooking,

cleaning, and cashing out customers.