Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(13)

“How much does a real attorney cost?”

“Guy gets two hundred an hour,” I said, blowing steam from my cup. “Might as well do it now while there’s money in the bank. I was thinking about trading in the minivan, too.” I reached for a donut. Vero was unusually quiet. Too quiet. She didn’t even protest when I took the only chocolate crème. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She set down her half-eaten donut, wiping a streak of powdered sugar down her pants.

“Just last week you were nagging me to buy a new car. Why are we suddenly concerned with clipping coupons and buying clearance freezers at Lowe’s?”

“Do I need a reason to make economically wise choices?”

“How much is left in the account, Vero?”

Her eyes swung slowly to mine. “Before or after we went Christmas shopping?”

My jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious! What about all of Irina’s money?” The wealthy wife of the Russian mob enforcer had paid us a cold, hard seventy-five thousand. Literally. We’d kept it hidden in my freezer. “We couldn’t possibly have spent all that money in a month!”

“We didn’t. I invested it.”

“Well then uninvest it. How hard can it be to cash out a few stocks?”

“That’s not how these things work, Finlay. You have to let the money sit.”

“How am I supposed to pay my bills in the meanwhile? And don’t say murder for hire!”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice rising. “We’ll use the money from your next book. The sooner you get that manuscript done, the sooner we get paid.” We. She threw that word around as if she were the one who had to sit in front of that keyboard and write it. “When’s it going to be finished anyway?”

I turned and looked out the window, catching a fleeting image of Delia and Zach running ragged between the rows of Christmas trees with Steven at their heels. “You don’t want to know.”

We sat in silence as the tension in the car simmered. Vero started to fidget.

“Maybe you’re just burned out on romantic suspense,” she said, pivoting toward me. “Maybe you need to spread your wings. You know, challenge yourself artistically. I’ve been reading about this new trend. There’s a huge untapped market for it.”

“For what?”

“Dino porn.” I choked on my coffee. “I am telling you, Finlay, I have run all the numbers, and dino porn is the next big thing.”

I turned to gape at her. “How is that even possible?”

“I wondered about that, too, so I downloaded a few samples.” She bent her elbows into tiny T. rex arms. “Apparently, the dino-hero’s hands are pretty small, but our heroine doesn’t mind, because he more than makes up for it with his super-enormous—”

“Stop!” I covered my eyes, determined not to picture it. “I don’t want to know.”

“Fine. But when everyone starts buying up velocirapterotica, don’t say I never told you.” Arms crossed, she fell back against her seat, both of us staring out the windshield.

Steven approached a young tree farm attendant with jingle bells on her hat and extremely generous boobs. He leaned close to point out a tree, sneaking a peek down her sweater as he reached for his wallet.

“Are you watching this?” Vero asked with a tone of disgust. “He’s totally coming on to the Elf with the Shelf. He is so freaking predictable. Seriously, Finn, it wouldn’t be hard to take him out. A hundred grand would buy a very nice car. And think of all the money you’d save on attorneys.”

“I’ll finish the book.”

Vero shook her head, watching Steven through her binoculars as he flirted shamelessly with the attendant. “What did you ever see in him anyway?”

If Vero had asked me a year ago, I would have said it was Steven’s charm, his drive, his confidence. But hindsight had clarified so many things about our relationship. I sighed. “He was good at making me feel like I needed him.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.” I watched him give the elf his business card, certain he was asking for her number. While Steven’s back was turned, Zach toddled off, escaping between a row of trees. Delia took off after him. Steven whirled, shouting both of their names. He stuffed his wallet in his front pocket as he ran, nearly knocking over a tent pole in his hurry to catch them.

All three of them disappeared into the maze. The children’s laughter trilled through the monitor.

“Where’d they go?” Vero chuckled, adjusting the focus on the binoculars.

“I’m sure he’s wrangling them. They’ll probably turn up in a second.”

We listened as Zach’s laughter faded, lost in the scuffle of Delia’s backpack. Steven’s shouts grew more and more distant. I reached for the monitor and turned up the volume. A moment later, their voices went silent.

“Why can’t we hear them?” Vero asked.

I moved the receiver closer to the windshield. All I could make out was the rustling of the monitor. My neck prickled, and the hair on my arms stood on end. I stretched up to see deeper into the maze, but the farm beyond the lights was a labyrinth of trees, acres of them stretching into the blackness. I couldn’t begin to guess where a thousand feet ended in the dark.