Lucinda paused, then it was almost as if a light bulb went off inside her fetid little mind. “You know, I’d be happy to help you with that. I’m sure Tony would love a memento of Joe’s too.”
The need for sleep tugged at Donna. She hadn’t had nearly enough. “I’ll let you know. I guess the picture isn’t here, but we looked, right?”
Lucinda turned back toward the bookcases behind Joe’s desk. “It’s so nice to be in this space. I miss my brother so much.”
“I’m sure you do.”
She coughed suddenly. Donna wasn’t sure if the woman was supposed to be choked up with emotion or coming down with the croup. Lucinda cleared her throat. “Could I get a glass of water?”
“Sure. Come into the kitchen.” Donna started to move toward the hall.
Lucinda stayed put. “Do you mind if I just spend another moment in here? I feel like Joe’s spirit is still here. Like I’m close to him in this room.”
It was an office, not a chapel. And Donna wasn’t Lucinda’s to push around anymore. With a frustrated sigh, she decided to cut through the crap. Whatever the consequences. “Enough with the games. Why do you want so bad to be alone in this room? What are you after in here?”
Chapter Five
Lucinda’s mouth fell open in shock. “What are you accusing me of? I just want something of my brother’s to remember him by. I’m trying to extend an olive branch here, Donna, and you ain’t being very nice about it.”
“Right. An olive branch. That must be why I feel like I’m being poked with a stick.” Donna stepped into the hall. She had an idea of what Lucinda was after, and it wasn’t a photo. “It’s time to go.”
In a huff, Lucinda stormed out. “I told my brother not to marry you. That you were trouble. That a woman like you would only bring him—”
“Stuff it, Lucy. He’s dead, and I don’t have to take your crap anymore. Not under my roof.”
Lucinda choked on her words but quickly found new ones. “The roof my brother paid for? The roof you’re shacking up with some guy under? My brother’s not even cold in the ground, and you’ve already got someone new in your bed.”
Donna’s palm itched to make contact with Lucinda’s face. But that was only going to stir a pot she had no desire to eat from. “That guy is my attorney. He’s helping me take care of the estate. But always good to know where your sick little mind goes first.” She pointed toward the door. “Get out of my house and don’t come back. Whatever you came here for, you’re not going to get it. Ever. Capisce?”
Lucinda’s eyes narrowed, and Donna imagined she could see smoke rising off the woman. “You will regret this.”
“More than I already regret marrying into this family? I doubt it. Now start walking, or I’ll remove you myself.”
Lucinda snorted. “As if you could—”
Donna grabbed the woman’s arm and started pulling her down the hall. She did her best to keep her emotions under control so that her eyes wouldn’t glow. “When I say something, Lucy, I mean it. Best you understand that.”
Lucinda yelped but had no immediate option except to move. She tried to pull away, but Donna’s strength was far superior.
So Lucinda started swinging with her free arm. She connected a right hook with Donna’s rib cage. Lucinda’s fist bounced off like she’d hit rubber. “What the—”
“I work out,” Donna quipped as she dragged Lucinda into the living room and toward the foyer. She released Lucinda, shoving her at the door. “Let’s go over this now. Do you understand that when I say don’t come back, I mean don’t come back?”
Lucinda was fuming. Her chest heaved with the exertion of her impending meltdown. “You have no right to do this. Joe is my brother. I should be allowed something of his.”
Donna put her hands on her hips. “How about this? You tell me what you really came here for, and maybe I’ll reconsider. But it has to be the truth, and you only get one shot. I have way too much to do to fool around with your sorry self all morning.”
Lucinda didn’t look convinced. At least not enough to speak up.
Donna shrugged. “Okay, get out.”
“No, wait.” Lucinda took a deep breath, and the heaving subsided a little. “The truth?”
The muscles in Donna’s jaw tensed in frustration. “Yes, obviously. The truth.”
“I want that picture. I know it was in his office. I’m sure it’s still in there. Just be a decent person and let me look for it.”
Donna stabbed her finger into Lucinda’s airspace. “Don’t tell me to be decent. That passive-aggressive crap is not going to fly.”
Lucinda held her hands up in implied surrender. “Fine. Sorry. Just let me find the photo. I can’t imagine what you’d want with a picture of me and Joe as kids at the state fair.”
Donna still mostly believed that Lucinda was full of crap. Past history supported the validity of that belief. But Lucinda’s answer actually had the ring of sincerity to it. Not a big, clanging ring. More like the little ding your phone makes when a nonessential text message comes in. But still. Maybe she really did just want something of Joe’s. And the only value a picture like that could have was sentimental.
Donna sighed. “Listen. I get it. But the best I can do right now is think it over. I had a long, eventful night, and I need a few more hours of sleep before I can decide this. I’ll call you.” That was a lie. Donna had no intentions of talking to Lucinda ever again, if she could help it.
“Hmph.”
“Don’t push me.”
Lucinda rolled her eyes but headed for the door. She left without another word.
“Thanks would have been nice,” Donna muttered.
Pierce emerged from the other side of the house, where his guest room was. “Everything cool?”
“Yes. But she’s up to something. I just don’t know what.” She glanced back toward the kitchen. “What did you do with that banana bread?”
“It’s on the counter. I was going to throw it away, but I figured I’d let you decide.”
“Nope, you were right. Pitch it. No way I’m eating anything that woman made.”
He nodded, chuckling. “Will do. Are you going back to sleep?”
Donna yawned without meaning to. “And there’s your answer. Yes. I need a few more hours. You need anything before I go?”
“No.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “But I should tell you, you have a date tonight with Boris Reznikov.”
She stared at him. “I do? When?”
“Midnight at the Russians’ club, Pravda, downtown.”
“Meeting on their turf, huh?”
“I know that’s not a good idea, but it’s all I could get them to agree to. Do you want me to cancel?”
“No. I want this over with.”
“Is that enough time for you to meet with Governor Fitzhugh at ten? I figured if you were going to be dressed to impress him, might as well knock out Boris too.”
“It should be plenty of time. Good thinking.” She put her hand to her stomach as nerves started to tangle it in knots. “Tonight, huh?”