Free In the Worst Way (Mercy Watts Mysteries Book 5) by A.W. Hartoin Page B

juices flowing. I’m all juicy.  
    Ew.
    “I’m sure the castle is booked. Way booked.” I glanced back at Leslie, who gave me a slight shrug.  
    “Leslie can find room for me. Can’t you, Leslie ?” said Uncle Morty.  
    What’s that about?
    “How do you guys know each other?” I asked.  
    Morty got his laptop, tucked it under his arm, and belched. “We met in another life. One of many.”  
    “What does that mean?”  
    “It means we’re old friends,” said Leslie.
    Uncle Morty snorted.  
    “And we understand each other. We’d be honored to accommodate Mr. Van Der Hoof.”
    “Damn right.” Uncle Morty stomped past us and whipped open the big arched door to take up residence.  
    “But…” said Bridget.  
    “Our weekend,” said Sorcha.  
    “And the smell,” said Jilly.  
    “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’ll…I’ll…”  
    Leslie touched Bridget’s shoulder. “The bride-to-be, I presume.”  
    She nodded like crazy.  
    “You need not worry. If I know Morty, he’ll hole up in a tower and you won’t see him at all. He’ll be working. Isn’t that right, Miss Watts?”
    “Yes. He does hole up when he’s on a streak,” I said.
    “Okay,” said Bridget. “You don’t think he’ll want to go to the spa with us, do you?”  
    “Not on your life.”  
    She blew out a breath. “It’s going to be great. He can work and we’ll do our activities.”  
    Leslie took Bridget’s hand and looked deep into her eyes. “It will be perfect.”  
    People said my dad and Chuck were charming, but them combined couldn’t hold a candle to Leslie. He morphed into exactly what Bridget needed and then he did it with Jilly and Sorcha. He said all the right things. No. Not the right things. Perfect things.  
    When he was done, they were smiling and going through the front door without a care in the world. Five Mortys couldn’t have ruined it. The only one who wasn’t charmed was Pick, who sniffed the around Leslie and backed up, making a throaty noise.  
    “You’re in good hands, Miss Watts,” he said, turning his spotlight on me.  
    “Who are you exactly?” I asked.
    He smiled. “Leslie.”  
    “Right. How do you know my dad? What did you do?”  
    “What makes you think I did something?”  
    “It’s a given. I know my dad. If you were a cop, he’d have said so. That means you’re on the other side of the coin.”
    Leslie leaned in, his breath caressed my cheek and a prickle of fear went through me, a reaction to I knew not what. “There are no sides. Only results.”  
    “What do you—”
    A guard stepped up. “Leslie, the limo is clear to leave.”  
    Leslie nodded at Terrance, who hesitated by the driver’s side door. He glanced at me with uncertainty and I felt another prickle of fear zip up my back.  
    “Goodbye, Terrance,” said Leslie. “See you in four days.”  
    “Yes, sir.” Terrance gave me a meaningful look. “I’ll be here right on time or early if you need me.”  
    “Good to know,” I said.  
    He got in and drove away. Very slowly to my mind.  
    A group of people walked around the side of the castle and a man with a greying crew cut said, “It is you.”  
    “Yeah, it is,” said a teenaged boy, obviously his son. They had the same broad cheekbones and thin lips.  
    “Who is she?” asked the woman with dark brown hair, curled and sprayed. She had extra-long fingernails that made me think of claws even though they were painted with blue orchids and had tiny jewels along the tips. She was one of the few women who could wear a jumpsuit and made it look like a good idea.  
    “Mercy Watts.” The other man wore a faded Cardinals’ baseball cap and had the heavy look of an athlete who’d forgotten how to move.  
    “DBD’s cover girl,” said the boy. “She’s hot.”  
    “Quinn,” said the woman.  
    “Mom. She knows she’s hot.”  
    Leslie extended his arm to bring them closer. It was a good thing, too. I felt a bit