Free Coming Home (The Santa Monica Trilogy Book 2) by Jill Blake Page B

lines of Downton Abbey , but her grandmother’s choice would do just as well. Anything to provide distraction from the spectacle outside.
     
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    Logan’s text came as yet another murder orchestrated by Claudius’ grandmother Livia was about to take place.
    Heard about Harry. You OK?
    Grace considered ignoring the message, just as she’d ignored the near-continuous ringing of the house phone.
    But then Ruth announced a pause for a bathroom break, and as Grace waited for her grandmother to return, she found herself texting back: Yes.
    He responded almost immediately. Going to Anaheim 2nite. Interested?
    She crossed to the window and lifted the edge of curtain to peer out. Beyond the front wall, she could still see several news van antennas. Returning to the couch, she typed: Not in Disney mood, thx.
    The cell vibrated in her hand. Logan’s name popped up on the screen.
    “How about baseball?” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’m taking Ben to see the Angels play. Game doesn’t start until 6:05. I’m sure we can score an extra ticket.”
    “I don’t want to horn in on your time with family.”
    “It’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet Ben, he’s a terrific kid. And I’m sure Eva will be happy to see you.”
    “She’s coming too?”
    “No, but we’ll stop by her house to pick Ben up.”
    Baseball wasn’t her thing. Time spent with Logan, on the other hand, whatever the context, sounded tempting. Plus, she had to admit she was curious.
    As an only child growing up in a household of much older adults, she had often envied friends who came from larger families. When she and Logan had first started dating back in college, the fact that he had two sisters with whom he shared a close bond was definitely one of the draws. It was only later, when he’d explained some of the convoluted family history, that she realized his early childhood was very much like her own. He hadn’t met either of his siblings until he was into his teens. Which made their close relationship even more intriguing. If anything could rival his dedication to research, it was his love for Eva and Angie.
    Grace had no doubt that sentiment translated to his nephew too. But somehow she couldn’t imagine Logan interacting with an eight-year-old. Even as a college freshman, he’d been too mature for his age. Not completely without a sense of humor—he’d certainly enjoyed provoking her whenever possible—but the tone was more New Yorker than Mad Magazine.
    She wondered how well that went over with a kid who probably thought farting in public was the height of hilarity.
    “Grace?”
    “Sorry, I got distracted.”
    She glanced up as her grandmother re-entered, pushing the front-wheeled walker across the hardwood floor. Enticing as Logan’s offer was, she couldn’t abandon her grandmother to the mercy of the press besieging them. If the mob outside got rowdy enough, one of the neighbors might call the police, and Grace would have to deal with them. But she shuddered at the thought of braving the crowd of reporters herself. For all she knew, they had staked out the golf course behind the property, too. And today she simply wasn’t up to playing cloak and dagger just to escape the house.
    The prospect of wading through a stadium full of strangers likewise held little appeal.
    “Can I take a rain check?” she said.
    “Sure. What about tomorrow?”
    “They’re playing again?”
    His laughter warmed her. “No. I was thinking maybe a hike up Temescal.”
    Why not? In all likelihood, the siege would be over by then. Attention spans in L.A. were notoriously short, and there was always a bigger, better story vying for the spotlight.
    “Who was that?” her grandmother asked when she hung up.
    “Logan. We went to UCLA together.” She picked up the remote control.
    “The Hamilton boy? You were mad about him. What ever happened?”
    Grace shrugged. The last thing she wanted was to get into an argument with her grandmother over her reasons