Now & Grim: A Grimlock Family Short Read online

  “I’m saying that your sister loves Griffin and they’re going to build a future together,” Dad clarified. “He makes her smile. He looks out for her. He listens when she talks, and that’s no small task because your sister is a jabberer.”

  I grinned, realization washing over me. “You like him.”

  Dad immediately started shaking his head. “I don’t like anyone doing filthy stuff with my daughter.”

  I didn’t believe him. “You like Griffin.” I couldn’t help marveling at the way Dad’s cheeks colored. “You like him as more than the guy Aisling will one day have kids with. You … like him as a person.”

  Dad rolled his eyes. “Oh, geez. This is why I didn’t want to teach any of you to talk. Your mother insisted, though, and look where that got us.”

  His gruff tone didn’t fool me. Dad was all talk and very little bite. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone you like Griffin.” I held up my hands in mock surrender. “It will be our little secret.”

  “That would be great,” Dad said. “He won’t be frightened of me much longer, but I don’t want to give up my leverage earlier than I have to.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” I rubbed my cheek in an effort to keep a wide smile from taking over. “Where do you want to look next?”

  “I … .” Dad didn’t get a chance to answer because Aisling, a water bottle clutched in her hand, picked that moment to appear out of nowhere.

  “Did you find him?”

  Dad pressed a hand to his chest as he worked to tamp down his surprise and scalded Aisling with an annoyed look. “What are you doing over here?”

  “I love you, too,” Aisling said dryly. “In fact, I feel the love flowing from you and it makes me feel so special.”

  Dad’s irritation waned, although only marginally. “I’m sorry, daughter,” he said dryly. “I’m so happy to see you, light of my life. You look absolutely lovely this evening and your skirt is in no way so short I want to have you locked up for indecent exposure. What are you doing over here?”

  Aisling grinned. “That’s better.” She took a long pull from her water bottle before continuing. “Those detectives wanted to ask Griffin a few more questions. I think he was worried about having me with him when they did, so he sent me to you.”

  “Why would he be worried about that?” I asked, legitimately confused.

  “Probably because we’re looking for a soul and Aisling happens to be a blurter,” Dad answered. “Griffin didn’t want her to risk blurting out, ‘There’s our dead guy,’ when he was talking to the cops. It was a smart decision.”

  “He’s a genius,” Aisling agreed, clearly enjoying the way Dad scowled.

  “She’s a jabberer and a blurter, huh?” I asked, grinning at Dad.

  “You all have huge mouths,” Dad replied. “You get it from your mother.”

  “We get it from you,” Aisling corrected. “As for the dead guy, I think we should try to talk to a few of the other actors to get a feel for him. Right now it’s as if we’re searching in the dark.”

  “We’re not here to solve his murder,” Dad argued. “We’re here to collect his soul and that’s it.”

  “I didn’t say we were here to solve his murder,” Aisling fired back. “We don’t know where to look for him. He could’ve wandered off. Our best bet to find him is to talk to people who knew him. I mean … he could’ve donated all his time to homeless children and gone to a shelter or something for all we know. We need ideas on where to look.”

  Dad was mollified. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Hey, Ais, you’re smarter than you look.” I poked her side, enjoying myself.

  “I’m a genius, too,” Aisling said agreeably. “Come on. There’s a group of younger women over there. They look gossipy.”

  I followed her finger. “And gossipy is good, right?”

  “Gossipy is always good.”

  “Finally your personality is going to pay off,” Dad muttered.

  Aisling shot him a withering look. “I heard that.”

  “I wasn’t whispering,” Dad said. “Come along. Maybe we’ll find out our dead guy was a saint and we can start looking in churches. At least that would be a place to start.”

  “HE WAS A COMPLETE and total pervert!”

  Lacy Silver and Miranda Jones were adamant when we started asking questions. Aisling was the first to approach – and she got straight to the point – but they were happier to open up to me. I knew why – I’d always been aware of the power of the Grimlock looks and never took them for granted – but I couldn’t help but enjoy the way Aisling rolled her eyes.

  “He was a pervert?” Dad exuded calm as he stood to my left. “Can you expand on that?”

  “I think she means he was a butt grabber,” Aisling offered helpfully.

  Dad glared. “I was talking to Lacy and Miranda.”

  “No, she’s right,” Lacy said. “He was a total butt grabber. He didn’t have a problem grabbing boobs either.”

  Dad was horrified. “He just walked up to you and … did that?” Dad held up his hands and twisted his fingers as if he were turning the dial on a radio, causing Aisling to snort and me to have to look away if I didn’t want to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

  “Tune in, Tokyo,” Aisling intoned.

  Dad pretended he didn’t hear her. “So Tim was a pervert. How did that work?”

  Lacy and Miranda exchanged confused looks. “What do you mean? Do you want to know where he touched us?”

  Dad was embarrassed. “Certainly not.”

  “He wants to know how Tim got along with everyone,” I supplied smoothly. “We’re understandably curious after what happened.”

  “What do you mean?” Lacy clearly wasn’t very bright. “Do you think what happened to Tim wasn’t an accident?”

  “I think that it would be hard for that to be an accident,” I replied honestly. “All the prop weapons look to be fake, which means someone had to switch out one of the fake weapons with a real one for that particular scene. That doesn’t sound like something that can happen accidentally to me.”

  Lacy’s eyes widened as she ran her thumb over her bottom lip. “Huh.”

  Thankfully Miranda was smarter, although that wasn’t a great distinction. “I think you’re right about someone purposely changing out the swords,” she said. “Wow! That means Tim was … murdered.” Her eyes widened to comical proportions. “Oh, my … wow! I can’t believe I know someone who was murdered.”

  A furtive glance toward Aisling told me she was close to saying something obnoxious. I didn’t want to risk that because I thought the girls might be useful, so I barreled forward before my sister got the chance to ruin things for us. “What can you tell us about Tim?”

  Lacy shrugged, noncommittal. “He’s been with the troupe a few years. We just joined this summer, but everyone else knows each other like they’ve been hanging out since high school or something.”

  “Is Tim well liked?” Dad asked.

  Miranda shook her head. “Everyone pretty much hates him. I can’t think of anyone who likes him now that you ask.”

  “If everyone hates him, why is he still with the group?” Aisling prodded. “I mean, you said the guy is a total pervert. Why didn’t someone kick him out of the group?”

  “I don’t know,” Miranda replied. “I always wondered about that, too. I mean … you should hear the stories we were told when we joined. They’re terrible.”

  “They’re also kind of funny,” Lacy added.

  Dad looked as if he was tugging on his limited patience – and perhaps losing the war – as he directed the girls’ attention to him. “What kind of stories?”

  “Okay, well, Minnie Dempsey tells a story – I think it was the first one I ever heard, although it may be the second … no, it’s definitely the first – anyway, she says that she was changing in the dressing room on her first night with the troupe and Tim just walked into the women’s dressing room and acted as if he belong
ed there,” Lacy explained.

  Miranda nodded in agreement. “Minnie said that he pretended he got confused when everyone screamed and covered themselves, but she said it was obvious he was getting off on making everyone uncomfortable … and looking at boobs, of course.”

  “Of course?” Dad shifted his eyes to me, something unsaid passing between us. “Did anyone ever warn Tim about his antics? I mean … what he did must have been frowned upon. Someone must have told him to stop doing what he was doing.”

  “I think a couple of the guys pulled him aside and told him to stop, but that never worked for more than a week or so,” Miranda replied. “They told him he couldn’t do it and he lied and said that whenever it happened it was always an accident and he promised to be more careful. He’d be good for a few days and then go right back to what he was doing.”

  “He sounds like a real charmer,” Aisling drawled, her disdain evident. “I can’t believe he wasn’t everyone’s favorite handsy friend.”

  “It wasn’t just the groping people didn’t like,” Miranda offered. “He also told these really terrible jokes.”

  “What kind of jokes?” Dad asked.

  “You know … the bad kind.” Miranda let loose a knowing head bob, something I’m sure she thought conveyed a secret my Dad would miraculously understand.

  “I think we’ll need more information than that,” I prodded.

  “She means sexist and racist jokes,” Aisling interjected. “He purposely told sex jokes to make the women uncomfortable. That’s how he got his power. He tried to make women feel small.”

  Dad flicked his eyes to Aisling. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve known men like Tim Graham.” Aisling was matter of fact. “They all work that way.”

  “You’ve known men who grope you and force you to listen to bad jokes? You’re not talking about Griffin, are you?”

  I could practically see Dad’s spine stiffen as I fought to contain my laughter. “I’m pretty sure that Aisling likes it when Griffin gropes her,” I offered.

  “No one is talking to you,” Dad barked.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Lacy asked, leaning closer to Aisling.

  Aisling made gagging noises before answering. “He’s my father.”

  Lacy looked disappointed. “That’s too bad. He’s got that stern thing going for him. I bet he’s got a few tricks in the bedroom that are to die for.”

  Aisling made an exaggerated face. “Quick, someone call 911. I think my brain just exploded.”

  “I’m going to make something else explode if you’re not careful,” Dad warned, causing Lacy’s smile to widen.

  “Yup, he’s definitely got bedroom tricks I want to see.”

  Dad faltered, and for the first time I could remember he seemed unsure. “I … you … we … um … .”

  “Oh, don’t mess with him, Lacy,” Aisling admonished. “You’ll force him to blow a gasket and nobody wants that. Trust me.”

  Lacy looked as if she were willing to risk it. “Well, if you change your mind.” She batted her eyelashes at Dad.

  “Yes, well … I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Dad looked to Aisling for help. “Do something.”

  “I already did. She’s simply playing with you now.” Aisling strode forward and grabbed Dad’s arm, directing him away from Lacy and Miranda. “Besides, I know where to look for Tim.”

  “You do?” I scrambled to keep up as Aisling strode toward the park’s lone permanent building. “Where?”

  “He’s a pervert,” Aisling replied. “That means he’s in the women’s bathroom.”

  “Oh, that’s just … undignified.” Dad was horrified. “I’m giving that man a long talking to. That shouldn’t be allowed.”

  That, at least, was something we could agree on.

  6

  Six

  Aisling was clearly still feeling the effects of her beer binge. She had an added spring to her step as she strode toward the public bathrooms. She offered up a cute wave for Griffin as we passed, wiggling her hips in a manner that I knew was meant to infuriate my father. I slid him a sidelong look and found him smirking as he shook his head.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “That she’s a menace.”

  “Not about that, although that’s a given. I was talking about what Lacy and Miranda told us.”

  “I think it sounds like a lot of people had reason to want Tim Graham dead.” Dad turned serious. “I also think that’s not our concern. We’re not private investigators. It’s not our job to solve crimes.”

  Aisling, proving she was listening even though I thought she was lost in her own little world, paused before we got to the door. “It’s Griffin’s job.”

  “It is,” Dad agreed. “This isn’t his jurisdiction, though.”

  “So … if it happened in Detroit you’d be all for investigating?”

  “No.”

  Aisling made a rueful expression. “You’re no fun sometimes. I can’t believe you don’t want to figure out which one of these poor girls – or maybe even one of the girls’ boyfriends or brothers – killed the local pervert. I mean … he obviously had it coming. Someone should give whoever offed him a reward for doing it in such a fun manner.”

  “Fun?” Dad arched a challenging eyebrow. “Since when is murder fun?”

  Aisling shrugged. “I don’t know. There are certain people I’d like to see murdered, and I think there’s some entertainment factor in the deed. Think about it; how much fun would it be if someone killed Angelina?”

  I bristled at the suggestion. In addition to being Aisling’s arch nemesis – that’s my sister’s description, not mine, mind you – Angelina Davenport was my former girlfriend. Granted, it was years ago and for a very brief period, but things didn’t end well between us. I’d often wondered if Aisling’s feud with the woman would’ve fizzled out if Angelina hadn’t personally embarrassed and hurt me before becoming the family’s least favorite person.

  “You don’t mean that,” I admonished, surprised at my reaction. “I know you hate her, but you wouldn’t want her to die.”

  Aisling fixed me with an unreadable look. “You don’t know that. I might want her to die.”

  “You shouldn’t say things like that, Aisling,” Dad chided.

  “Oh, not you, too.”

  “I’m not saying I like Angelina,” Dad clarified. “You simply shouldn’t say things like that because someone might overhear you, and Angelina has a personality like a rabid dog. Someone will probably put her down one day, and I don’t want to waste more bail money to ensure your freedom should it happen. Besides, you’re dating a cop. He probably doesn’t like it when you say things like that.”

  “That shows what you know,” Aisling scoffed. “Griffin likes it when I get worked up. He says it makes me frisky.” She made a growling sound low in her throat. “He likes me frisky.”

  Dad’s frown was so pronounced it looked as if someone had drawn a caricature expression on his face. “Drink your water, Aisling,” he barked, forcing me to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

  “Oh, you’re such a spoilsport,” Aisling complained, although she complied and took a huge gulp of water, some liquid spilling over the sides of her mouth and landing on her shirt. “You should be happy we called you to join us. It’s Friday night and you weren’t doing anything else. How sad is that?”

  Instead of agreeing, Dad merely shook his head. “Have you ever considered that I like a quiet Friday evening at home?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I do. There’s nothing better than a house filled with absolute silence. That rarely happens.”

  “That’s because you let your sons remain with you even though they should be out on their own,” Aisling pointed out. “You’ve made them codependent little weasels – no offense, Cillian – and now they can’t take care of themselves. I pity the women they finally settle down with.”

  No offense? Why woul
d I possibly take offense at that? “It’s not as if we take advantage of Dad,” I argued. “He wants us there. Isn’t that right?”

  Dad shrugged. “I don’t mind you there. The three of you are out half the time anyway. You’ve been calmer since you started dating Maya – and I definitely like having her around the house because she’s a delight. I didn’t know girls that age could be so engaging and wonderful – but you guys get loud when you want to.”

  That wasn’t really the answer I was expecting. “But … .” I didn’t get a chance to finish because Aisling cut me off.

  “What do you mean that you didn’t know girls that age could be so engaging and wonderful?” she challenged. “Maya and I are practically the same age.”

  “And I stand by my statement.” Dad turned his attention to the building. “I think Aisling needs to check the bathroom to see if our soul is in there. You should get on that, honey.”

  “Oh, now he calls me honey.” Aisling was belligerent, the cheap beer fueling her to heights even I barely recognized. She’s often full of herself – we’re all used to that – but she rarely pokes Dad simply for the fun of it when we have a job to complete. “I am a delight to spend time around.”

  “Of course you are.” Dad tousled her hair in a playful manner. “You’re my favorite daughter.”

  “I’m your only daughter.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re my favorite.”

  Aisling wasn’t about to be placated. “You say that you like Maya better than me.”

  “I said no such thing.”

  “You did.” Aisling turned to me, eyes wide and fury practically rolling off her. “Did you hear him? He likes Maya better than me.”

  “I heard,” I said. “I’m not sure that’s what he said.” I hated being put in a position where I had to take sides between my father and sister. It was uncomfortable and one – or both, which was often the case – was bound to get loud when things didn’t go his or her way. “Take it down a notch and drink some water. I think you’re exaggerating the importance of what he said.”