Free Family Case of Murder by Vanessa Gray Bartal Page A

was…you,” she finished lamely, wrinkling her nose when Jason’s lips twisted into a brief yet smug smile before turning back to Robert.
    “Riley thought you weren’t together,” Robert said.
    “Riley thought wrong,” Jason replied. “Now get out, and don’t come back.”
    “This really doesn’t concern you,” Robert said. He was trying to sound authoritative, which failed miserably because his back was pressed furtively against the door like a cornered bunny. “Lacy and I have a lot of history.”
    “I’m well acquainted with your history. In fact, I’ve wanted to talk with you about it for a long time now,” Jason said, taking another step forward, and then Robert was out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Jason remained staring at the door a few beats, making sure he was really gone, and then he turned to Lacy.
    “A few things: A. That guy is a weasel. B. Your sister is crazy. I locked my door to prevent just such a midnight encounter with her. C. They deserve each other. D. Do you always sleep in see-through gowns?”
    Lacy hunched and crossed her arms over her midsection. “Stop looking,” she said.
    He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “You okay?”
    “Yes. The feeling of having escaped something horrible just keeps getting stronger the longer we remain here,” she said. She slipped her arms around his neck and the atmosphere bottomed out like the calm before a storm. “So, you wear a bathrobe,” Lacy said, nervous now and trying to regain some levity.
    “Forget about the bathrobe, Red,” Jason replied.
    “I wish I could, Hugh Heffner, I really wish I could,” she said.
    He smiled, shaking his head. “Show me where the monkey bit you.”
    She tilted her head, pointing to a spot on her neck, slightly off center from her jugular. “If you look closely, you can see faint scars from his tiny teeth.”
    “Let me see,” he said, tilting closer. He pressed his lips to her neck and it was all over for Lacy. Any attempt she might have made at protesting—which would have been half-hearted to begin with—was now out the window. Instead she went boneless, leaning back in his arms so he was fully supporting her weight. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and cocked his head toward the bathroom.
    “What is it, Lassie? Timmy in the well again?” she asked.
    “I thought I heard someone knocking on my door,” he said. “Instinct tells me it was your grandfather because he knows what we’re doing in here.”
    “Then we’d better hurry,” Lacy said. She stood on her toes and kissed him, and he reciprocated, at least until her door flew open and Riley stepped inside.
    “Oh,” Riley said. “Awkward.”
    “If only there was some way to prevent walking in on people when they’re kissing like, I don’t know, knocking,” Lacy said, reluctantly drawing away from Jason. Reminding her sister to knock before entering her room felt like being a teenager all over again. Riley had always been a nosy snoop.
    “I just came to tell you the game has started,” Riley said. She sounded grumpy. “Come to the drawing room.” She turned and left, leaving the door wide open in her wake.
    Lacy took a step toward the door, but Jason held her back. He shrugged out of his robe and put it on her, cinching the belt around her waist. “Let’s not give Uncle Chuck a show,” he said.
    “Right. I should also get my scarf.” She turned in a circle, but failed to find it.
    “Just use the hood on my robe,” Jason said, tugging at the hood.
    “You wear a robe with a hood?” Lacy said. “Are you a boxer? Because that’s really the only acceptable excuse for owning this.” She plucked at the robe.
    “Maybe I keep it on hand to protect beautiful women from leering creepers,” he suggested.
    “I’ll allow that, too,” she said, and then she was distracted by him because he wasn’t wearing a shirt under the robe and, have mercy, the man was ripped. “What were we