Garrett, Brendan, Reggie, and Miles planned to spend the morning cleaning up the Mondello house. Hopefully everyone would be able to sleep in their respective homes tonight.
Rosamund crossed the street and waited for them in front of Kiersten’s house while Valentina joined them on the sidewalk, clutching her morning cappuccino.
“The Beaverbrook Academy for Inquiring Minds soldiers on,” Rosamund said, “even in the midst of drama, upheaval, and cul-de-sac-wide intrigue.”
“But it needs one vital element to continue,” Valentina said.
Piper frowned. “What?”
“Food,” Valentina said. “For lunch. For the children.”
Kiersten whacked her own forehead with her palm. “Ugh. I completely forgot. I was going to do a giant Costco run yesterday, but with all the drama and the hospital trip, I completely forgot.”
“We also need peanut butter,” Valentina said.
“And paper towels,” Rosamund added.
“And Goldfish.”
“Sorry,” Piper said as Kiersten added item number twelve to the Costco list on her phone. “I guess we let ourselves run a little short on supplies. So much for the infallible Table of Sustenance.”
Kiersten shot her a tired smile. “I’m actually glad to run to Costco. It’ll calm my nerves before our mission. I’ll be back before you miss me.”
Chapter Ninety-Two
Kiersten
Kiersten grabbed her purse and keys from the mudroom, exited the house through the side door, and approached her minivan.
She opened the driver’s side door, tossed her phone and keys into her enormous purse, and dropped it down on the passenger seat. She was about to climb in, when clawlike fingers wrapped around her arm.
She spun around. A tiny woman with enormous eyes stood beside the car.
Margaret.
The old woman blinked up at her through the lenses of her bifocals. A black handbag dangled from her wrist, with a gold clasp on top, like Queen Elizabeth used to carry.
Kiersten blinked back at her as the namePeggylodged in her throat. She swallowed. “Margaret?”
The woman nodded, then plucked at Kiersten’s sleeve. “Come with me.”
“Come with you where?”
“To my house. We don’t have much time.”
Her mind raced. In just a few hours she was planning to sneak into this woman’s home. And now Margaret wasinviting her inside.
A trap?
Dottie’s words swirled through her mind. If the diaries were true ... and she believed every word she’d read ... then Margaret ... or Peggy ... or whatever this woman called herself ... had suffered as much as Dottie had.
“We don’t have much time,” the tiny woman whispered, tugging her arm. “Please. Come now.”
Kiersten chewed on her lower lip, contemplating this request. She’d seen chickens that looked more dangerous than this frail, elderly woman.
She reached inside her purse and grabbed her phone, just in case, shoving it into her back pocket. Then she allowed Margaret to slip her age-spotted hand into her own, and pull her out of the minivan and down the street to Margaret’s house.
“What do you need to show me, Margaret? Can you tell me?”
