send an email with the picture. If she texted him, he’d want to talk, and she wasn’t in the mood.
Scooting on the piano bench, Summer absently glanced out the window and was startled to discover a clear view into the house next door. From a certain angle, with the curtains open and house lights on, it was like watching TV.
Feeling like a peeping Tom, she started to turn away until Todd’s back moved into view. He appeared agitated—his arms swinging and gesturing.
Flashing red lights, warning bells, and the dropping arm of a crossing gate brought her up short when a woman flitted through the window-framed scene. It was impossible to see much, just a head of black curls. But something was strangely familiar about the way her head tilted.
Apprehension filled her. She went to the window for a better view, and in an attempt to stay hidden, she tried to blend in with the drapes.
It didn’t take subtitles to see Todd and the curly-haired woman were arguing. She was shorter than him, but from what Summer witnessed, the woman had no problem getting up in his face.
“Move your ass, Todd. Lemme see the woman.”
When he shifted to the side, the woman turned at the same time, leaving only her back visible.
“Shit.”
Backing away from the window, she completely closed the curtains and nervously chewed her bottom lip. Her mind searched for everyone she knew with shoulder-length curly black hair and came up empty.
Bothered by what she’d seen, Summer dismissed the sense of familiarity before it ate her alive. Her neighbor was welcome to argue with whomever he liked. It was none of her business, and because it was Todd, the best thing she could do was not give him or his creepy energy access to her thoughts.
“I think we’re finished here,” she murmured to Ari.
Grabbing the handle of the baby seat, she did a quick house check to make sure everything was secure, turned on a few lights, and exited for home.
Unsettled was the best way to describe how she felt for the rest of the evening.
30
By half past eight, all the workmen cleared out, and the house became quiet—except for the sounds coming from the kitchen where his dad and brother were noisily ragging on each other about hogging the sauce from their double order of barbecue ribs.
Arnie watched with loving amusement. It was good to see the two engaging in normal father-son behavior. The three of them had been estranged as a family unit for far too long. Getting the band back together was a welcome bonus to this bizarre situation.
Snickering as if the funniest thing ever just occurred to him, his father drawled, “He got your girl’s phone number. Did you know? Behind your back and everything.”
Stan perked up and punched their dad in the arm. “Hey, what the fuck, Dad? Shut up.”
Narrowing his eyes, Arnie’s gazed bounced back and forth between the two grins. If he admitted he hadn’t heard all of what his father said, they’d needle him endlessly, so he came back with a plausible punt to see what they’d do.
“I’m bigger than both of you,” he pointed out with just a hint of threat in his delivery.
Neither man moved, so he arched a brow expectantly and waited.
Stan caved first.
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” he whined. “Nothing happened behind your back. I gave her my number so she could let me know when she had time to look at stain.”
“What?” Arnie heard the words coming out of Stan’s mouth, but he acted so guilty it made him wary.
“She called the number, so I’d have hers too.”
The sound of a million buzzing bees filled his head. He blinked to clear his mind. He finally got what was making Stan so nervous. “She gave you her phone number?”
“Arnie, for Christ’s sake. Listen to yourself. Yeah, I gave her my number, but hello?” Stan mimed answering a phone. “Your NIGHTWIND guy isolated her phone. Right? That’s what you said. So, in a way, everyone has her number.”
“Everyone except me,” he shouted. What he yelled made no sense, so he made it worse with a convoluted explanation. “Okay, yes, I have her number too, but she didn’t give it to me. I stole it.”
His father’s chuckle earned him some side-eye shade. He simply continued to wipe sauce off his mouth and hands while shaking his head. Arnie was tempted to suggest he also wipe the stupid grin off his face.
“Tsk, tsk, now boys. Behave. Stan, stop trying to