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Aspen’s eyes popped. “Wow—people can do that?”
I shrug. “For the right price, people can do anything,” I reply with a small snicker.
She stares at me admiringly, but Lily breaks the spell between us.
“Are we getting ice cream?”
“Coming, honey,” Aspen sings. She hesitates. “Should I take the boys with us?”
I consider the question for a moment. “No. I don’t know if the inspector will need to speak to them again.”
“Okay. Come on, Lily. Let’s go get you some cookies n’ cream. That’s still your favorite, right?”
“Yep!” Lily takes Aspen’s hand, and they’re gone, leaving me alone in the living room to wait for the state inspectors.
This is almost over. If all goes well today, they’ll sign off on the adoption, and that will be the end.
As if on cue to my thoughts, the doorbell rings, and I beat Zoe to the foyer to answer it.
“Hello,” I greet the stern-looking woman on my stoop. “Welcome.”
She sniffs, and I draw in a breath. Maybe this won’t go as smoothly as I think it will.
* * *
The news is too good to keep to myself, but I don’t want to spring it on Aspen or the others until after Lily’s gone to bed. Instead, I hop in my Aston Martin and head into Cypress Gardens, bursting with too much arrogance.
The Cinderwell Hotel is the cheapest place to rent in all the upscale town. I know that Raya and Matthew are still staying there because I’ve had surveillance on them since they left my house two weeks earlier, thanks to Sheriff Lahey. I would have been more appreciative to the lawman if he had forced them out of town, but that wasn’t the way Lahey worked. We just had to wait for Raya and Matthew to screw up again. As I was sure they would.
I’m troubled because they haven’t reached out once in that time but remain in the vicinity, as if they’re plotting something.
They can plot all they want. They’re SOL now.
But even for the least expensive hotel in town, the Cinderwell isn’t rundown. It’s more old than crappy, no illicit activity happening like you would find outside some of the New York motels of the same caliber.
I knock on the door of two-oh-six, and I hear a distinct rustling inside.
“Raya Parker, it’s Flint Sterling. Open up.”
Immediately, the door flies open, but it’s not Ryker’s cousin I’m staring at; it’s Matthew.
“Where’s Raya?” I ask, craning to look behind him.
“On the shitter,” he replies, flashing his rotted teeth at me. “Why? What do you want?”
“I need to speak with you about Lily.”
Matthew’s eyes light up, and I instantly know what he’s thinking.
This jackass thinks I’m going to pay him to leave town. Fat chance.
“I’m here!” Raya calls out in her honey-tinged voice, appearing out of the bathroom with dripping hands. Her eyes are glassy, and the rank smell of marijuana floats toward me.
Classy.
“Are you letting us see Lily?” Raya coos, sashaying forward.
“No,” I reply. “Absolutely not. You have no right to her, and if you come anywhere near the house or my daughter, I’ll have you arrested.”
