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“Of course. It’s been two days.” She kept the sarcasm to a minimum, which appeased the pres.
He ticked his head at the buffet. “Make a plate.”
She hesitated for a few seconds, assessing him as if she didn’t trust his agenda. With a shrug, she stood, lifting her chin high as she crossed the room. I noted with humor that she made two plates and brought them back to her seat before returning to make coffee and pour a glass of orange juice.
Devil let her eat most of the food, idly scratching at the scruff on his chin. I knew that calculating look on his face. His impatience had grown since bringing her to the compound, and now he needed answers.
“Tell me about Amelia’s relationship with Homer, Henny.”
“I can’t really say. I’ve only met him a couple of times. He doesn’t come to The Rising Sun Tavern often.”
“Has he been there recently?”
She frowned. “I believe so.”
He leaned forward, fixing her with his intent focus. “Explain.”
“I heard Amelia arguing with someone last week after the bar closed. I’d already gone upstairs and said goodnight.”
She paused, narrowing her eyes as if remembering the details.
“The voice belonged to a man. It wasn’t clear enough for me to confirm his identity. I assumed Homer dropped by, but it could have been anyone.”
“Why did you assume it was Homer?”
“Because Amelia doesn’t have a lot of gentlemen coming around to pursue her. It’s not hard to notice when one shows up with a marked interest.”
I snorted at the use of the wordgentlemen. Homer didn’t fit that description at all.
“Did you check on them? Look out the window?” Devil asked, hoping for more information.
“No. It had rained earlier that night, and I closed my windows. Too cool out to bother opening them up.”
Devil appeared to accept her story, leaning back as his arms crossed his chest. “Would you say Homer has a thing for Amelia?”
“Probably. He stares at her when he’s there. It’s blatant and makes Amelia uncomfortable. She’s said so more than once.”
Interesting. We knew Homer had a soft spot for Amelia. He begged us not to harm her or her girls.
“Amelia has another daughter, doesn’t she?”
Henny stiffened, laying her fork down on her plate and pushing it away. “I’m sure you know. She’s only eleven.”
“I don’t have an interest in the girl, just the package her mother hid.”
Henny sighed. “If it exists, I swear to you that I’ve never seen it. Amelia never mentioned it, either. I don’t think she’d lie about something like that since it would put her daughters in danger.”
I believed Henny. So did Devil.
But Amelia? She definitely hid shit from Henny, but why? Where did she put the package, and how did we get her to hand it over?
Devil turned to me, his shrewd gaze giving me a slight warning before the next words left his mouth. “Go pick up the other daughter.”
I stood as Henny popped to her feet, her expression panicked. “Please. Don’t do this. I’ll cooperate. I swear.”
“You don’t have the information we need,” Devil reminded her, ticking his chin at the door. “Go, Reaper.”
“No!” Henny shouted, running toward me as I strode to the door. “You can’t!”
