Back in Black (McGinnis Investigations #1) - Rhys Ford Page 0,30

Brinkerhoff,” I said, nodding at the old man in the bed. “I came to see if he was up to answering any questions.”

“McGinnis,” she purred at me in a smoky voice reminiscent of speakeasies and cigarettes. She was a walking cliché, but it seemed like I was stuck with her, at least until I could figure out what she was doing there. “You’re the man who rescued Poppa. One of the police officers last night told me you’d be coming by.”

I took the hand she offered and shook it. Her fingers were cool to the touch, without a hint of clammy nervousness. “And you are?”

I was really beginning to regret letting Bobby go on a coffee run for us. Neither one of us liked what any hospital had to offer, and there was a Starbucks drive-through not more than three blocks away. As much as I wanted more coffee, I could’ve used him as a foil. She was an unknown quantity, and from the looks of things—her phone charging on the side table and the thick book she’d been reading left to rest on the old man’s bed—she was a woman who was a part of the Brinkerhoffs’ life. Every bone in my body screamed at me, trying to get my brain to understand. This woman was a complication in an already fucked-up case.

Like I needed even more convincing about how much trouble she could potentially be.

“I’m Marlena Brinkerhoff. Adele is… was my grandmother.” Every pitch and fall of her voice was filled with the poignant sorrow of a woman in mourning, and her elegant hand clasped the unconscious Arthur’s fingers in a gentle embrace. It was all so very perfect and yet felt quite theatrically practiced. “I flew down from San Francisco as soon as I could. Poppa called me when Grandma was found, so I was in the air when he was attacked. I didn’t discover what happened until I showed up at the house and found the police….”

She gave a little sob, closing her eyes tightly and bringing her clenched fist up to her ripe, red-lipsticked mouth. As wary as I was, my heart went out to her, and I reached over to touch her arm, probably falling into the web that she wove.

That was the problem with being a private investigator, or at least that was my problem with being a private investigator. I could never really see the cobweb strands, and my gut had often proven to be a liar.

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” She folded herself into my arms before I could stop her, and I was left to stand awkwardly as I patted her back. “I met your grandmother before all of this. A few years ago. She seemed like a strong woman.”

“She was. She would push me to be my best,” she murmured through a series of hiccupping sobs. I wasn’t sure if my shirt was going to be able to absorb all of her tears, but I also wasn’t in a position to protest. The woman had lost someone dear to her, and I needed to find out who took Adele Brinkerhoff from her family. “A lot of people thought she was too stern, too strict, but I knew she loved me.”

“Did she ever bake you cookies?” I had to ask. If I took anything out of this entire experience, I wanted to be reassured that grandmothers baked cookies.

The look Marlena gave me when she pulled back from my chest was an odd one, but it was a strange question. I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her Adele Brinkerhoff and I met over the business end of a shotgun after I caught her doing the spank-and-tickle with another woman, but the cookie thing was important, at least in my own twisted little brain.

“She baked cookies all the time. Usually shortbread,” she said with a small smile that seemed more genuine than the one she’d given me as I walked into the room. “Poppa’s favorites are shortbread and peanut butter. I like chocolate chip, but her shortbread could just melt in your mouth.”

“It’s good you have that,” I murmured, putting a little distance between us. “I can come back later when your grandfather wakes up. I just need to ask him about what your grandmother was doing that night.”

“Poppa isn’t able to talk to you. The doctors are concerned he hasn’t regained consciousness, and they’re worried there’s brain damage,” Marlena whispered breathlessly. “He told me he was hiring