California Schemin' - Kate George [54]
The girls were perched on kitchen stools, elbows resting on the island. Hammie was leaning against the wall, and Moose was at the stove cooking eggs and pancakes. I assumed that Wallace had a chef, but every time I’d been served a meal in this house, Moose had cooked it.
Wallace was leaning against the sink counter, forcing Moose to walk around to the prep sink in the island when he needed water. Moose spotted me and smiled.
“Tea?” He grabbed the kettle and was halfway around the island before I could respond. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I wasn’t in the mood for anything, so I just nodded.
“Bree, how lovely. Let me introduce you to my daughter, Wendy. Wendy, this is the guest I told you about, Bree MacGowan.
I reached out my hand to shake her hand. She looked confused for a moment and then took it with a firm grip. I appreciated a firm handshake, nothing worse than shaking a hand that felt like a dead fish. She reminded me of Snow White with her dark wavy hair and blue eyes. All she needed were puffed sleeves and a blue apron.
“Dada tells me that you are going to help catch the men who killed my stepmom. That’s great.”
Well, that explained why she looked nothing like Lily Wallace. Stepmother.
“Yeah, well I hope I’m able to help. I’m not sure I’ll recognize anyone, but I’ll try.”
Wallace beamed at me. “That’s my girl, I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking. Feed this girl some breakfast, Marshall. We’ve got a long morning ahead of us.”
The thought of food nauseated me, and I shook my head at Moose. He looked at me with eyebrows raised and mimicked my head shake with a frown.
“No food?” he mouthed. “Really.”
“No food,” I mouthed back. I turned back to the group to find them all looking at us.
“I’m really not hungry,” I said. “I didn’t want to be rude and refuse your hospitality, but something I ate yesterday didn’t agree with me.”
Wallace started to protest.
“No, really, I’ll eat later. I just need some time for my stomach to settle.”
Wallace shrugged, but Wendy fixed her baby blues on me. I turned away, uncomfortable under her gaze.
A couple of dogs started barking, and Wendy trotted out of the room. The French doors slammed, and she returned a moment later with a couple of corgis following her. They stopped when they saw me, and the fur rose on the darker dog’s back.
I kept my side to them, endeavoring to be a little less threatening, and crouched down. This was either a really stupid or really smart thing to do, depending on the dogs.
In this case the gamble paid off. The dogs wiggled their way over to me and sniffed the hand I dangled at my side. A minute later I was cross-legged on the floor, the puppies had flopped over onto their backs, and I was rubbing their tummies.
Wendy joined me for the tummy-fest on the floor. The dogs reminded me of home, and I had to blink back tears. Moose knocked a box of tissues off the counter so I could wipe my nose.
“What’s her name?” I asked as one of the corgis wriggled and squirmed her way into my lap.
“That’s Fiddle, this is Bow.” She scratched Bow behind the ears, and the dog made little grunting noises like a pig.
“Fiddle? Your name is Fiddle?” I made a fuss over the dog, and she stood up, put her front paws on my chest, and reached up to lick my chin.
“Wendy,” Wallace said. “I thought I told you those dogs could only come if they stayed outside or in your room. I especially don’t want them in the kitchen. Take them away.”
Wendy got up and called Fiddle to her. Both dogs followed her out of the room.
“Ms. MacGowan, come with me.”
I followed Wallace out of the room and up the stairs. I sat in the chair opposite his and stared around, feigning interest in his office. Wallace pulled a file out of a drawer in his desk and slid it across to me.
“I want you to memorize these faces. Take them to your room. Let me know when you’ve got them down, and I’ll take you into