all kinds of stuff around here. He says he's our grandfather, isn't that a hoot? He has more relatives than Adam has apples, owns half these doddering buildings, and he wants to own us too."
"Grandfather?" Maya couldn't take that in. They had aunts and uncles and cousins all over creation, she knew that. But the blood between them had been damned thin. She didn't remember any grandfathers. He'd said he knew their grandmother. Did that fit?
"He's dead, you know," Maya continued. "He owned the property the school is on, and now Axell says the court will sell it since he didn't leave a will."
Cleo's head shot up. "Dead? Well, shit, that cinches it. He gave me some cock-and-bull story about how he'd met our grandmother before he married, but he didn't do right by her and he was going to make it all up to us now that his wife was gone and he could admit what he'd done. I figured the old goat was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to. He had nieces and nephews and cousins who never visited unless they wanted something. I kinda felt sorry for him."
"So did I, but he definitely had a muddy aura. Maybe that's why he gave us such a good deal on the school. We could never have afforded it without his help." Maya dug her fingers into her hair and tried to sort it all out, but she didn't have much confidence in ancient history—although with the names their mother had given them, she supposed she should at least show some interest.
"Muddy aura." Cleo snorted. "You're as crazy as I am." She shifted uncomfortably. "But he wasn't above muddy deals. It's probably good that he's gone." She sank into glum thought.
Maya didn't want to hear about muddy deals. She didn't want to know what Cleo had done in her former life. But for Matty's sake, she had to know. "He didn't get you mixed up in anything, did he?"
Cleo spiked her hair worse than it was. "Anything I did, I did to myself. Pfeiffer might have blamed himself, but it wasn't his fault."
"Cleo?" Maya asked uncertainly when she didn't continue.
Cleo sighed. "He let some slimeballs use some of his old buildings. I know dealers when I see them. When things got bad, I sought them out, not vice versa. But if Pfeiffer's gone, they'll have moved on. You don't have to worry. I'm clean, and I'm staying that way."
Maya nodded in relief. "That's hard to believe of that nice old man. Maybe he didn't know they were dealing."
Cleo grunted in disbelief but didn't argue. "Your turn to spill. Since you were already knocked up when you came out here, how the hell did you get Superman to marry you?"
Superman. Maya smiled. "I was thinking in terms of Norse gods myself. Thor, maybe? It's a long story. You really don't want to hear it. But Axell's good with lawyers. Do you think if we could prove Mr. Pfeiffer was our grandfather, we might get part of his estate?" She wasn't really interested for herself, but for Cleo... It might give her a reason for hanging out a while longer.
"If a collapsed building and a run-down old house is the extent of it, we wouldn't get enough to pay the lawyers." Cleo sipped her coffee and stared around at the sparkling shop inventory. "I kind of liked the place dusty and moldy. It had a certain flavor to it."
"Yeah, it was called Eau de Rat. It made a profit last month," Maya offered tentatively. "Axell said with all the new growth around here, this town will be seeing a lot of new business, that with the right planning, your shop could be a major asset."
"If I stay off dope and out of the clutches of idiots," Cleo answered gloomily. "It's not that easy. I owe a lot of favors." She sat up and glared at Maya. "I want Matty back."
"You want to run," Maya accused her. "I'll be damned if I let you do that to him."
"He's my kid."
"He's your responsibility. There's a difference." Maya dug her fingers into the chair arms. She'd never learned to stand up for herself or anyone else, but Cleo was her sister. If she couldn't stand up to her, she couldn't help anybody.
"You don't understand. Nobody understands. It's just better if I leave." Cleo slumped back in the chair and glared at the glass counter.
"You can't leave. You're on probation. You have to stick