Chapter Fifteen
Juliet shifted on the cold metal chair in the interrogation room. Chilly and intimidating, the room was small with unadorned, dingy, white walls. “I understand my rights as you’ve read them to me.”
Reese nodded from across the scarred wooden table. “All right. Let’s get started.”
Quinn leaned against the far corner, his massive arms crossed. “No. Not yet.”
Reese raised an eyebrow. “Sheriff Lodge, if you’re going to be difficult, I’ll ask you to leave.”
Fire lanced through Quinn’s gaze. In the loosened white shirt and black suit, he looked like a panther ready to strike.
Panic lanced Juliet’s chest. Two old friends might fight because of her. “I’m ready to get started, and I’ll answer anything you ask.”
“No, you won’t,” Quinn ground out.
“Why the hell not?” Reese asked, irritation curling his upper lip.
The door slid open. “I assume it’s because my client is waiting for her lawyer.” Smooth as silk, Jake Lodge stepped into the room. He’d donned a slate-gray Armani suit and carried a hand-stitched leather briefcase. “Would you gentlemen please excuse us so my client and I can confer?”
Reese slowly turned his head to glare at Quinn. “You called your brother?”
Quinn headed for the door. “She has a right to a lawyer. I figured, why not get the best?” He disappeared into the hallway.
Reese stood and rounded on Jake. “You have ten minutes.”
Jake smiled. “I’ll take as long as I want, Agent Johnson. Now get the hell out.” He slid into Reese’s vacated spot.
“Fine. I’ll go talk to Freddy now.” Reese swore under his breath as he left the room. The door slammed shut.
Jake’s face gentled. “How you holding up?”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes. “Not so well. Quinn is mad at me.”
“Ah, yes. But we need to be concerned with the drug charges right now, Juliet.”
“He’s really angry with me.” Who cared about drugs? She wanted Quinn to look at her like he did yesterday.
Jake coughed into his hand. “I need you to focus here.”
“Of course.” Relying on years of experience, she drew dignity close. “What do you want to know?”
Jake lifted one dark eyebrow in an expression Quinn often wore. “Everything.”
Juliet took a deep breath. “All right, but I’m only telling the story once. Please ask Quinn to come back.”
“Sheriff Lodge will be subpoenaed to testify as to anything you say. Let’s bring him into this conversation after I figure out our best move.”
Juliet straightened. “I’m going to tell him everything, anyway. You’re my lawyer, and you have to follow my wishes.”
“Your wishes are going to land you in federal prison.” Jake rubbed his scruffy jaw. Apparently he hadn’t had time to shave when changing clothes. “It’s well after midnight, you’re tired, and you might not be thinking clearly. Trust me on this. You don’t want Quinn in here quite yet.”
“I can’t do this twice, and he deserves to hear the full truth.” He’d given her his trust, and she owed him. So she had to tell the full truth and not hide behind the law.
Jake shook his head. “You’re acting against the advice of your lawyer.”
“I know.”
Jake stood and ripped open the door. “Quinn?”
Quinn appeared immediately. “What?”
“She wants to include you in this meeting.” Still shaking his head, Jake retook his seat.
Quinn frowned. “That’s crazy.”
“I know, but she only wants to tell the story once.” Jake grabbed a legal pad from his briefcase to slide onto the table.
Juliet looked at Quinn. “Do your job and listen to my story, Quinn.”
His jaw tightened until it had to hurt. “You’re putting me in a terrible position.”
She sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”
Anger blazed in his eyes, but he retook his position in the far corner. Of course, he’d followed duty. She’d counted on his sense of honor.
“I lied to you, and I’m sorry.” Clearing her throat, she focused her gaze on her hands. “When I turned ten, my mother married Dominique Spazzoli. He was a criminal. Mainly illegal betting operations, but probably some blackmail and extortion. He took me in, gave me a home, and I loved him.” She swallowed and glanced at Quinn’s expressionless face. “I know he was a criminal, but he was good to me.” Not even to get out of a federal drug charge would she say anything bad about Dom. He was the closest thing she had to a father, and he’d loved her, too.
“Did you partake in any illegal activity growing up?” Quinn asked.
Jake jerked his head toward Quinn. “You’re invited to listen and not ask questions, Sheriff.”
“Bullshit.” Quinn’s arms uncrossed. “I’m here, and I’m partaking. Deal with it, counselor.”
Wonderful. Now the brothers were going to come to blows. Juliet cleared her throat again. “No. Dom kept me as far away from the criminal activities as possible. He didn’t deal with drugs. Freddy entered the drug trade when Dom died.”
“You entered with him?” Quinn asked.
“Of course not.” A shiver racked her.
“Damn it, it’s too cold in here.” Quinn yanked off his suit jacket and dropped the heavy material over her shoulders.
Instant warmth and the scent of male surrounded her. Something inside her stomach softened. “Not on purpose. The Children’s Art Clinic of New Jersey hired me to teach a couple of classes a week to kids. I had so much fun teaching those kids how to sculpt.” Her hands trembled, so she clasped them together. “The CAC is a nonprofit that exposes underprivileged kids to the arts. The job didn’t pay much, but I loved it.”
Jake tapped his silver pen on the pad. “The CAC was a drug front?”
“Not at all. Freddy put the drugs in my trunk, I drove from New York to Jersey, and somebody would take the drugs out while I taught classes.”
Quinn dropped into the one vacant chair by his brother. “Did you know?”
“No.” She allowed her own stupidity to reflect in her voice. “For six months, I ran drugs, and I had no clue.”
Quinn shook his head. “The kind of danger you must’ve been in…”
She nodded. “I’m a moron. How could anybody have no clue they were trafficking drugs across state lines for six months? But really, how often to you look in your trunk if you’re not storing stuff?”
Quinn stared at his brother. “If she had no idea, if she had no intent to traffic, there’s no crime, right?”
Jake slowly nodded.
Juliet shook her head. “Seriously? I’m Dom Spazzoli’s stepdaughter and Freddy Spazzoli’s stepsister. No way would a federal prosecutor or jury believe I was unaware of the drug transfer. Period.”
“She has a point,” Jake said.
“Besides”—she picked at a sequin on her dress, wanting to get it all out there—“I didn’t call the cops once I found out. I called Freddy and yelled at him. He had me look at a building across the street that had a camera pointed right at me. I was on camera for six months. Freddy believes in insurance policies.”
“Did the cameras ever catch you looking in the trunk?” Jake asked, scribbling on his notepad.
“Not until the day I discovered what was going on,” she said quietly. Crap, she really needed to tell the whole story. “So, I got out of town. I mean, I acquired false identification and got out of town.”
Jake held up a hand. “I believe what my client means is a friend of hers supplied her with false identification. She neither purchased it, nor has she used it since.”
Juliet frowned. “No, I—”
“Good enough,” Quinn growled. “We can revisit the false-identification issue later. For now, I want you to tell me everything you learned about Freddy’s drug business.”
The door opened, and Reese pushed a rickety cart holding an older television on top of a DVD player. “Freddy was very cooperative and supplied me with a video that is quite intriguing.” He plugged in the electronics and grabbed a rusty remote.
Jake slammed his pen down. “We’re in the middle of something.”
Reese flashed a dangerous smile. “I understand what you’re doing. However, why don’t we watch this video? Afterward, I’ll leave so you can confer with your client on how she wants to plead this out.”
Ice-cold fingers traced Juliet’s spine. This was so not going to be good. Her shoulders straightened, and she flashed Quinn an apologetic grimace. “Push play, Agent Johnson.”
Reese engaged the television and player before starting the video. Several minutes went by that showed several wrapped white packages put into her trunk in front of her apartment in New York and then taken out of her trunk in New Jersey. The men involved were Freddy’s lackeys, but not once did Freddy make an appearance.
Quinn wandered to lean against the far wall.
Jake stretched his neck. “First, there’s no proof those are drugs. Second, not once has Juliet been on screen with the trunk open. You’ve got nothing, Agent.”
Reese pressed a button. “Let’s fast-forward to the end, shall we?”
Juliet briefly closed her eyes. “Good idea.”
The tape scrolled forward until it showed the events of the day that changed her life forever. The camera captured her leaving the art clinic just in time to see a man slam her trunk closed. She stilled, and he ran away. A frown marring her face, she’d hustled forward and opened the trunk.
Cash. Tons of wrapped and stacked cash lined her entire trunk.
The interrogation room went deadly still.
Even with the grainy camera, there was no question that a lot of money sat in her trunk.
She’d whipped out her cell phone and called Freddy, who’d laughed his head off when explaining the cameras. She’d turned to look directly at the camera while still on the phone. Slowly, she’d ended the call, torn her cell phone apart, and left the shattered pieces on the pavement. After slamming the trunk shut, she’d gotten in the car and driven off.
The recording went fuzzy and then black.
Reese turned off the television. “As you can see, counselor, your client drove off with full knowledge her trunk was full of cash. She had enough knowledge of her family to know that it was probably drug money. She neither called the police nor the DEA. What she did do is disappear from town with the money. That’s theft at the very least, and more than likely, accessory after the fact on the drug charges.”
Juliet opened her mouth, and Jake shook his head. “Don’t speak.”
She nodded. Her driving away with all of the cash looked horrible for her.
Reese continued, “I think I can get her on trafficking drugs, however. A jury is unlikely to believe the ‘I-didn’t-know’ defense. They rarely do.” He slammed the remote down on the table.
Juliet jumped.
Reese leaned in. “I understand why you ran. Stealing so much money from Freddy and his cronies certainly put a hit out on you. I’m going to leave now, and you and your attorney are going to figure out how to turn the money over to the DEA and what type of evidence you can come up with to send your brother to jail. It’s your only hope.”
“I have no evidence against Freddy.” She ignored the warning flashing in Jake’s eyes. “Besides, the money is gone. Every last dollar.”
Jake motioned Reese to back up. “Okay, we’re going to talk in hypotheticals now. Does everyone understand?”
Slowly, both Quinn and Reese nodded.
“Good.” Jake peered at her. “Hypothetically, even though you have no knowledge of any money, what would a woman in the situation like the one you just saw on the tape have done with all of that money?”
The moment seemed a bit late for hypotheticals, but what the heck. Juliet lifted her chin. “Hypothetically? I suppose the woman would’ve had some fun giving all the money away. Maybe some to the Art Clinic, some to the First Baptist Church on Delaney Street that needed a new roof, some to the Catholic Church around the corner, some to the boy’s baseball club in southern New York for new backstops. I suppose then the woman would give money to charities and churches as she drove west to safety. Until it was all gone.”
Reese staggered back. “All gone?”
Jake chuckled. “I don’t suppose the woman would’ve kept track of where all the money went?”
She plastered on her sweetest smile. “I would assume a woman like that would’ve kept track. Definitely.”
Reese shook his head. “You had start-up money for the gallery. That was drug money.”
She clasped her hands together. “If you check my bank records, you’ll see I emptied out my savings as I left town. I used my own money to start the gallery.” All of her money, in fact. She hadn’t used one cent of Freddy’s drug cash.
Jake pushed back from the table and stood. “My client and I are leaving.”
Reese held up a hand. “Wait a minute.”
“No.” Jake skirted the table and assisted Juliet up. “She has cooperated fully with you. All you have is a mistaken statement made to her current lover when she was under extreme duress. While the video of her finding something in her trunk is interesting, it has neither been authenticated nor truly examined. We’re not even sure that’s Juliet, much less money in the trunk. Even if you do somehow prove that was cash, nobody has reported cash being stolen. Therefore, you can’t prove whose cash it was. Hypothetically, of course.”
Wow. Juliet stumbled along with Jake to the door. He really was an amazing lawyer.
Jake paused. “While I have no doubt you’ll be meeting with the federal prosecutor soon, Agent Johnson, you don’t have probable cause for an arrest. You know it.”
Quinn cleared his throat. “She’s in danger, Jake. We don’t know who’s in town with Freddy, and we don’t have anything to hold him on.”
Juliet tried to catch Quinn’s eye, but he kept his focus on his brother. Hurt cut into her heart. In trying to keep him, she’d lost him.
Jake nodded. “She’s staying with Sophie and me. We’ll keep her safe, and we’ll bring her to the Jacoby’s funeral tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you later.” Just as smooth as that, Quinn Lodge excused her from not only the room but his life.
Juliet’s chin rose, and she followed Jake away from interrogation and Quinn Lodge.
Chapter Sixteen
Rain pattered around the gravesite. Juliet shifted her boots in the wet grass and edged closer to Sophie under the sprawling umbrella. While she wanted to be respectful and keep her focus on the preacher or the coffin being lowered into the ground, her gaze kept straying to Quinn.
He stood next to Melanie as they said good-bye to her grandfather. He’d left his Stetson in the truck, and the rain slid down his angled face unchecked. Sadness darkened his already dark eyes, and his black hair curled at his nape. A calm in the storm, he maneuvered closer to Melanie when she trembled.
Colton flanked Melanie’s other side, an arm around her shoulders. The woman’s thick, brown hair curled down her back; the rain only added to the wild curl. Her brown eyes glimmered with tears, and sandwiched between Quinn and Colton, she appeared breakable. She clutched a bouquet of pink roses. Colton whispered something into her ear, and her lips tipped in a small smile. She leaned into him as the coffin came to a rest.
The preacher finished his eulogy, and Sophie tucked her arm through Juliet’s. “I’m glad Colton’s home for good now.”
“Me, too,” Juliet said softly. “Though I thought Melanie was dating a banker.” The man in the three-piece suit was nowhere to be seen.
“She is, for now. I guess he’s at some conference in London. Apparently he’s flying home tomorrow.” Sophie turned toward the cars. “Let’s head to the wake early to make sure everything is set up.”
Juliet stumbled in her high-heeled boots. “Actually, do you mind dropping me at home? I think I’ll skip the wake.”
“Juliet Spazzoli.” Sophie tugged her through bodies toward the road. “You are not hiding just because your boyfriend hauled you down to the station for questioning. Grow a pair, girlfriend.”
Jake snorted next to her. “I truly wish you’d stop using that expression, Sunshine.”
Sophie shrugged. “You grow a pair, too, counselor.” Then she yelped as Jake snaked an arm around her waist and lifted, turning her midair to face him.
Juliet grabbed the umbrella handle before a spoke pricked her forehead. She paused as Jake easily held his wife a foot off the ground, determined amusement darkening his eyes. Sophie’s eyes widened. Yeah, the Lodge brothers didn’t take kindly to challenges.
With a shrug, Juliet left the couple. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
She picked her way around gravestones and the hilly terrain. As she reached the car, a strong hand banded around her arm. The scents of pine and male surrounded her, and her heart galloped into motion. Slowly, she turned. “Good afternoon, Sheriff Lodge.”
He ducked to keep from getting smacked with the umbrella. “I’ll give you a ride to Mel’s house.”
“That’s kind of you, but I’m going back to my apartment.” She fought a wince at how formal she sounded.
“No, you’re not.” Quinn took the umbrella and keeping her head shielded, led her to his truck. “We had to cut Freddy loose, and I’d rather keep an eye on you until I figure out what he’s doing.”
“While I appreciate your concern, I’ve been taking care of myself for quite some time.” Yet her legs kept moving right alongside his. Might as well poke the bear sooner rather than later. “Let go of my arm, or I’m going to kick you in the knee.”
He opened the passenger door and glanced down at her boots. “Those are kind of pointy.”
“Yes, they are. I assume they’d do some damage.” She grabbed the umbrella and closed it.
“You’ve already been to the jail once. Do you want another trip for assaulting a police officer?” His head cocked to the side, but no expression filtered across his rugged face.
“Not really. However, if I’m not under arrest, you can’t make me get in your truck.”
Predictably, he did exactly what she wanted him to do. Both hands grabbed her waist, and he lifted her into the truck. At the one touch, desire flared awake through her entire body. Several deep breaths did nothing but make her abdomen ache more.
She waited until he’d shut the door, crossed in front, and jumped into his seat before speaking, “I knew you were going to do that.”
“Darlin’, we both knew I was going to do that.” He started the ignition. “We obviously need to talk.”
“You’re mad at me.”
“Furious.” He nodded at a couple of people walking along the road toward the long line of cars. “Put on your seat belt.”
“Does this mean we’re over?” Something in her chest splintered.
“Right now? I have no clue. I need to deal with making sure Melanie is all right, making sure Colton doesn’t screw up his future, find out why drug dealers are killing people in my county, fight to keep my job, and get your stepbrother out of your life for good.” His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “You lied to me. There have been times in my life when trust was the only thing I could rely on. I…need time to figure things out.”
The splinter in her chest exploded. “When I was eighteen, I fell in love with a guy named Sonny Mitchsi.”
Quinn’s nostrils flared. “He was a criminal?”
“No. Sonny was a genius—got a full ride to business school.”
“All right.”
“The second he found out about my family, he dumped me. Said he couldn’t be involved with somebody like me—somebody with a family like mine.” Remembered hurt slithered down her spine. “I didn’t want you to do that.”
Quinn growled low. “You didn’t give me the chance.”
She sighed—he was right. “I didn’t ask to get in your truck.”
“I know.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Jake and Sophie needed a moment, and so did you and I.”
“Am I going to go to jail?” Juliet asked quietly.
“No. You have the best lawyer in the world, and frankly, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Quinn pulled the truck onto the main road. “Well, anything illegal. You didn’t do anything illegal.”
Oh, but lying to him was wrong. Lying to him and then sleeping with him, that is. If they’d remained just acquaintances, the lying probably wouldn’t have mattered much. But now it seemed like everything. “I’m sorry, Quinn.”
“Me, too.” He tossed his black Stetson on the dash. “You didn’t trust me, Juliet.”
There was the crux of the problem. Everyone leaned on and trusted Quinn Lodge, yet she was the only person he’d opened up to. No wonder he was so mad.
“I am curious. How long were you planning to stay in town?” he asked.
Chills cascaded down her back. “I was planning on leaving after the showing.”
His firm jaw snapped shut. “I see. Where were you going?”
“I thought I’d go to Utah or Wyoming.” Somewhere there were mountains, cowboys, and a community. But no place would have Quinn Lodge. “I’m sorry.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence, finally pulling to a stop in front of Melanie’s white farmhouse. A porch wrapped around the entire first floor, the planks faded and a few in need of repair.
Quinn frowned through the windshield. “I hadn’t noticed Old Man Jacoby needed help. Apparently I should’ve paid closer attention.” He stepped out of the truck and crossed behind it to open Juliet’s door.
She allowed him to assist her to the gravel. His hands lingered at her waist, and his eyes darkened.
“Sheriff?” someone called out.
They both turned and a flash went off. Several flashes peppered the air. With a growl, Quinn stepped in front to shield her.
The photographer rushed toward a parked car and sped off.
Juliet pursed her lips. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t want to know.” Quinn closed her door and took her elbow to escort to the porch.
“But, if that was a reporter, do you think they found out about me?” Oh, God. Any scandal could destroy Quinn’s campaign.
“Maybe.” He released her. “I’ll see you inside.” Without another word, he hurried to where his mother emerged from a truck, her hands full of dishes. After pecking Loni on the cheek, he reached for the bundle.
A lonely chill squeezed Juliet’s chest. She would’ve liked having been part of the Lodge-Freeze family. Sighing, she went inside for the wake.
…
The morning after the funeral, Juliet poked her head outside the gallery door. “Deputy Baker? Would you like some coffee?”
The young officer shook his head. “No thank you, ma’am.” He turned his red head back to survey the quiet street.
“How about you come inside and warm up? You can guard the gallery just as well from inside.” She fought guilt—the poor guy had been outside all night.
“Thank you, ma’am, but the sheriff left strict instructions for me to stay right here until my replacement arrived.” The kid didn’t change his focus.
Sighing, Juliet closed the door. Damn Quinn was punishing her for her decision to return to her apartment and not impose any longer on Sophie and Jake. She punched in numbers and asked to speak with the sheriff. Mrs. Wilson said she’d take a message, but that the sheriff was out on a call. Juliet decided not to leave a message.
Instead, she hustled to her desk in the corner to balance her books. After the showing the other night, she was finally in the black. Thank goodness.
An hour passed.
Then another.
Suddenly, the door blew open. She yelped and jumped. The sheriff stood in the doorway, gun out, his face a concentrated mask. “Juliet?”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Why is your gun out?”
He frowned and set his gun back in the shoulder holster. “I got a report of screams coming from the gallery.”
The young deputy sidled in from the other gallery. “There wasn’t anybody in the back entrance, sheriff.”
Quinn’s gaze narrowed. “You didn’t hear any screams?”
“No, sir.”
“I think it’s a hoax,” Quinn muttered.
“Who called it in?” The deputy scratched his chin.
“I don’t know. It was a call to dispatch. Take point outside, Spencer. Phillips will be here in five to relieve you.” Quinn waited until the deputy took his leave to focus on Juliet. “I also had a message you called.”
She ran her hand along the back of her chair. “I’m refusing police protection. Please keep your deputies off my property.”
A veil dropped over his eyes. “You’re in danger, now there’s a prank call regarding you, and you don’t get to refuse police protection.”
She glowered. “You’re trespassing, Sheriff Lodge. Please leave.”
“No.” He crossed his arms.
For the love of all that was holy. Stubbornness lived in the man, at home and comfortable. “We broke up.” She understood exactly what “I need time to think” meant. “As such, you no longer need to concern yourself about me. All of the truth is out, and Freddy probably has no interest in me. Especially since Jake explained to him that the money is long gone.”
“Regardless of the status of our relationship, you’re a citizen in my county. If you’re in danger, you get police protection.” Quinn leaned against the door. “Deal with it, Juliet.”
Anger rippled through her veins. So she plastered on a polite smile and straightened her shoulders. “Well, then, I thank you for your diligence, Sheriff Lodge. The citizens of Maverick are fortunate to have you protecting us.”
Temper rippled across his face.
His phone buzzed, but his dark gaze kept her pinned while he answered. “I’ll be right there.” Turning on his heel, he yanked open the door to reveal a different deputy at guard. “Stay with her and report in hourly.” Without looking back, he strode out of sight.
The door drifted closed.
Her phone rang, and she cleared her throat before answering, “Maverick Gallery.”
“Hi, Juliet. This is Mrs. Hudson, from down the street?” an elderly voice chirped.
“Hi, Mrs. Hudson.” Juliet took another deep breath. The sweet widow lived in a small cottage a block down the street, and Juliet often dropped off groceries or goodies for the woman.
“What can I help you with?”
“Oh, Juliet. I dropped my favorite earrings—you know the ones Arthur gave to me right before he died? Well, they slid behind the stereo.”
“Oh.” Juliet glanced at the clock. “You need me to fetch them for you?”
“No, dear. I grabbed them,” Mrs. Hudson said.
Juliet frowned. “Well, good.”
“But then the stereo dropped on my leg.”
“What?” Juliet sprang to her feet. “Are you all right? Do you need an ambulance?”
“Oh, no, dear. I’m fine. Well, not fine. My foot is bruised, and I can’t stand on my tiptoes.”
“Do you need me to bring bandages or, well, anything?”
“No. But I do need you to come and get my yellow bowl—the one with flowers on it—off my top shelf. I can’t reach that high, and I’m going to Betty Adam’s for Bunko tonight.”
Relief flooded Juliet. “I’d be happy to help. In fact, I could use a walk right now. Give me a minute.”
“Thank you, dear.” The elderly lady hung up.
Juliet chuckled. Now that was a confusing conversation. She slid her arms into her coat and headed for the door. “Deputy Phillips, I take it?”
Phillips nodded a buzz-cut head. He stood to about six feet and was built like a truck. “Yes, ma’am.”
“How do you feel about a walk?” she asked.
“You walk, I follow, ma’am,” he said with a smile and twinkling brown eyes.
“Excellent.” She stepped into the chilly day and frowned at the gathering clouds. Not another heavy summer storm. She hustled down the block to Mrs. Hudson’s white bungalow. She knocked on the door and pushed it open. The elderly lady hollered for her to come in.
Juliet left Deputy Phillips on the porch and hurried inside. “Mrs. Hudson?”
“In the kitchen, dear.”
Juliet removed her coat, entered the sparkling clean kitchen, and stopped short. “Quinn.”
“Juliet.” He sat at the round table, a large bowl of oriental chicken salad set on the crocheted tablecloth in front of him.
Juliet raised her eyebrows at Mrs. Hudson.
The woman smiled and all but pushed Juliet into the chair across from Quinn. “The sheriff was kind enough to get down my bowl, but now I need a couple of testers for the salad I want to take tonight.” She dumped another bowl of oriental chicken salad in front of Juliet and smoothed her purple, velour pantsuit. “Now you two eat up, take notes, and I’ll be right back. I promised Henry Bullton next door some salad.” Humming to herself, she all but skipped out the back door.