The Greek Trilogy, Book 1 (Lust, Money & Murder #10)

By Mike Wells

When an estranged relative shows up at U.S. Secret Service Agent Elaine Brogan’s house with shocking new information concerning her father's death, Elaine and Luna Faye join forces to bring a dangerous and elusive Greek criminal to justice. In addition to Elaine and Luna, the Greek Trilogy features the usual cast of Lust, Money & Murder characters - Nick LaGrange, Dmitry, Tony, and the notorious Giorgio Cattoretti. Hold on for another ‘unputdownable’ ride!

Note: This book was previously titled: Lust, Money & Murder, Book 10 - Black Widow

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Wells
• Release date: Apr 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370439072

Mike Wells

Mike Wells is an author of both walking and cycling guides. He has been walking long-distance footpaths for 25 years, after a holiday in New Zealand gave him the long-distance walking bug. Within a few years, he had walked the major British trails, enjoying their range of terrain from straightforward downland tracks through to upland paths and challenging mountain routes. He then ventured into France, walking sections of the Grande Randonnee network (including the GR5 through the Alps from Lake Geneva to the Mediterranean), and Italy to explore the Dolomites Alta Via routes. Further afield, he has walked in Poland, Slovakia, Slovenia, Norway and Patagonia. Mike has also been a keen cyclist for over 20 years. After completing various UK Sustrans routes, such as Lon Las Cymru in Wales and the C2C route across northern England, he then moved on to cycling long-distance routes in continental Europe and beyond. These include cycling both the Camino and Ruta de la Plata to Santiago de la Compostela, a traverse of Cuba from end to end, a circumnavigation of Iceland and a trip across Lapland to the North Cape. He has written a series of cycling guides for Cicerone following the great rivers of Europe.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Six months after Raj Malik was arrested for diamond smuggling, Elaine Brogan’s day-to-day existence had settled into a relaxed, peaceful rhythm. It was as if the life that she’d dreamed of living for so long had finally arrived.

As reward for ridding the Secret Service of a corrupt director, Elaine was offered a promotion, but it would have required her moving to Lyon, and she graciously turned it down. She didn’t want any added responsibility or stress—she was perfectly happy to continue to operate out of the American Consulate office in Marseilles and quietly serve as Europe’s primary specialist on U.S. currency counterfeiting. To be close to her children, Elaine worked three days a week in the city and two days out of her home office. That suited her husband, Nick, just fine.

Tony and the kids were doing well. Ryan had just started kindergarten, and Amelia was learning to talk. Taking care of them both, as well as keeping the house clean and cooking his Italian masterpieces for the family, kept Tony plenty busy.

Dmitry was back in Moscow. He complained to Elaine on the phone that his life was borink again. But the cynical Russian had successfully sold the pink diamond she’d given him and was apparently happy with the amount he’d gotten for it.

Even Elaine’s marksmanship skills seemed to have improved since her harrowing trip to Africa and putting Raj Malik away. She was always stressed when her firearms requalification date came around each year, and dreaded the sarcastic comments from her colleagues in Marseilles—How is it that you can spot a fifty micron defect in a U.S. hundred dollar bill but can’t see a target at twenty-five meters? This year, when her boss signed her off, he quipped, Well, well, Brogan, you’ve really outdone yourself, up from ‘terrible’ to just ‘pretty bad.’ Keep this up and you might actually hit the center of the target one day.

The icing on the cake was that Luna Faye had been offered a similar promotion to Elaine’s, for her work on the Raj Malik case, and had accepted it. She had taken a job at the main Secret Service European Operations office in Lyon. Her husband, Walter, worked for a Big 4 accounting firm, and it was easy for him to transfer there.

Elaine couldn’t have been more thrilled. Luna often drove down and spent the weekend with the family.

But it was the beginning of one such weekend when Elaine’s relaxed, peaceful life came to a sudden, crashing halt.

* * *

It started on a Friday afternoon, just before six p.m., when the bell for the driveway front gate rang. Even though the security console was in the farmhouse’s foyer, the front gate signal was a sharp, loud buzz, with a volume sufficient to reach the far corners of the huge stone dwelling.

Elaine was in her office upstairs in the sunroom, finishing her week’s work, sorting the fake $100 bills she’d been analyzing into neatly organized stacks based on common errors she’d found in them.

Nick was out back, building a gazebo—he’d been hammering and sawing all day, and by the sound of it, he was still going strong.

The bell in the foyer rang again.

Will you get that, Tony? Elaine called. I’m sure it’s Luna.

I’m comin’, I’m comin’, Tony called back, and she heard him enter the foyer.

Elaine smoothed out her clothes, then pulled her hair out of the pony tail and let it fall loosely around her shoulders. She was so looking forward to seeing Luna—it had been almost six weeks since they’d seen each other, because Luna and Walter had gone back to the States for the Christmas holidays.

It’s not-a Luna, Tony called from the foyer.

What? Elaine stepped out of her office and looked down at him from the top of the stairs.

It’s not-a Luna, Tony repeated.

Who is it?

Still wearing his apron, Tony looked at the security console. Ryan was standing next to him, gazing up at the screen as well, a plastic soldier figure in his hand.

It’s a taxi, Tony said, as Elaine came down the stairs, but she could already see that. Romeo and Juliet were barking in the backyard. On the screen, Elaine could see the driver was staring up at the camera expectantly. He impatiently stuck his arm out the car window and pushed the button again.

Tony flipped the switch on the console to talk. "Oui?"

"Un visiteur pour Elaine Bro-ghan?" The driver pronounced her last name the way many French people did.

A visitor for me? she thought, frowning. Could it be Luna? But why would Luna be arriving in a taxi?

Feeling a little uneasy, Elaine flipped a switch to change cameras—there was one mounted on the rock wall that afforded a side view of the vehicle.

Only one person was sitting in the back seat, wearing sunglasses.

A woman.

Elaine pushed the TALK button this time. "Qu’est-ce?"

The driver turned and said something to the passenger sitting behind him.

What’s going on? Nick said, sauntering into the foyer. He was wearing a pair of ripped up jeans and a dirty sweatshirt, a hammer in his hand. I heard a car pull up...

Not sure, Elaine said, motioning to the console screen. It’s somebody in a taxi.

The driver looked up at the camera and spoke again, in English this time. It eez your family member, from the Tex-has.

Elaine blinked. Family member?

She and Nick looked at each other. Elaine’s first thought was that the woman in the taxi might be someone sent by Raj Malik to do god only knew what to her and her family. All her old anxieties developed during the course of working for the Secret Service came flooding back to her. There was a TAXI sign on top of the car, but it might not even be a real taxi—the driver could be working for Raj, too.

Go get your gun, she snapped.

Nick frowned at her. Do you really think that’s n—

Anybody can find out that I have family in Texas, Nick. Go arm yourself!

Okay, okay.

As he trotted up the stairs, Elaine turned to Tony. Take Ryan into the kitchen.

"Si," the Italian said, with a worried look, and he turned away, taking the boy by the hand.

Elaine glanced back at the screen. Raj Malik was languishing in a French prison south of Paris, awaiting trial—he would likely spend the rest of his life in jail in this country. On top of diamond smuggling, he’d been charged with money laundering, tax evasion, resisting arrest, assault, and attempted murder, all of which were federal crimes. The American government had washed their hands of Raj Malik. Elaine had to be on guard for any revenge he might try to dish out.

The taxi driver was looking through the windshield at the gate, waiting for it to open.

Nick trotted back down the stairs, the Glock in his hand. He had already removed the trigger lock.

Elaine pushed the talk button on the console again. What’s the name of your passenger? She repeated the question in French.

Suddenly a female voice crackled over the speaker. Honey, it’s me! Aunt Sarah!

Nick looked at Elaine. Sarah?

Amy’s mother, Elaine said, feeling a little relieved. Amy was the cousin she’d idolized who’d been killed as a teenager, the one she’d modeled her Jennifer Johnson persona on when she’d gone to Sudan to meet Stanley Ketchum and find the diamond mine. Sarah had married somebody else—Elaine had only seen her a few times after her mother abandoned her and her father.

But was it really Sarah?

Are you sure it’s her? Nick said, seeing the doubt on her face.

Elaine could recognize a genuine Texas accent—and the woman had spoken in one—but the image was far too sketchy to recognize Sarah’s face. And the oversized sunglasses the woman was wearing didn’t help. No, I’m not sure, to be honest.

Nick reached up to open the gate, the gun still in his other hand. We’ll keep the front door closed until she gets out and you have a better look at her.

As Elaine watched the screen, and the taxi headed up the driveway, she wondered what the hell her Aunt Sarah could be doing here. And how Sarah had found her, assuming it really was Sarah? On the other hand, even though her mother had disappeared so many years ago, Elaine was still in touch with some of her family in Texas, and at least one of them had her address in France.

When the taxi came to a stop in front of the garage and the rear door opened, the woman that emerged from the back seat seemed taller than the Sarah that Elaine remembered. She was still wearing the sunglasses, they were oversized, obscuring much of her face. Even though the security camera image was in black and white, the woman seemed more stylishly dressed than Sarah would have been. She was wearing a below-the-knee black coat that looked like it was made of cashmere, and a soft leather bag casually slung over her shoulder.

She pulled out her purse, and handed the driver some money. He went around and opened the trunk, then dragged out two more bags—a carry-on and a rather large, full-sized hard shell suitcase.

Uh-oh, Nick muttered, glancing at Elaine with a half-smile.

I’m still not sure it’s her, Elaine said nervously.

You’re not?

No. Not with those big sunglasses on. And she sure is dressed up, for Sarah.

The driver put the vehicle in gear and began to turn it around in the driveway.

The woman took hold of the suitcases and clumsily pulled them behind her, one of them nearly flipping over as she headed down the sidewalk. She glanced around uncertainly at the farmhouse, looking a little peeved, as though thinking that someone should have come outside to greet her by now.

When she approached the front door, Nick flipped the console switch to the hidden camera mounted above it, which caught a much better view of the woman’s face.

Well? Nick said to Elaine.

Still not sure it’s her. She has to take off those damn sunglasses so I can see her face. Now Elaine wished she’d gone upstairs and retrieved her own gun as well. She didn’t like this—she didn’t like this one bit!

Nick looked like he was tiring of the whole business, as if he thought it was silly to be intimidated by some middle-aged woman with a couple of suitcases.

He flipped open each lock on the front door, then cracked the door a couple of inches and glanced outside, keeping the gun out of sight.

Elaine stayed just behind Nick, peering around his shoulder.

The mysterious woman they found standing before them on the doorstep was beautiful and even more elegantly dressed than the black and white images on the screen had depicted. Underneath her jacket, she wore a pair of soft grey trousers and black loafers, with a silk blouse in muted pink. She seemed to be in her late thirties, or maybe early forties, but of course with the sunglasses, it was hard to tell. She had fair hair that was pulled into a graceful, soft bun in back, with wavy strands neatly framing her face.

Um, sorry to have to ask you to do this, Nick said, but can you take off your sunglasses, please? We have to be kind of careful living out here in the country...

The woman nodded, then reached up and pulled off the glasses.

Her pale blue eyes stood out in her longish, angular face. She wore a lot of makeup. From her slightly shiny and waxy skin, it was clear that she’d had quite a bit of cosmetic surgery. She also sported a deep tan that looked natural.

But it was a familiar face...

When Elaine realized who the woman was, her knees buckled.

Well? Nick muttered, glancing over his shoulder at his wife. When he saw her expression, he did a double-take. Honey, what’s the matter?

Elaine’s throat had gone so dry she could barely whisper the words.

It’s—it’s m-my mother!

* * *

Hi, please come in, Nick said, trying to act polite and casual. He had tentatively opened the door and was smiling, but he moved like a robot.

Kathy Brogan took only one step forward before coming to a stop, staring at Elaine, only now noticing that her daughter was hiding behind the man who’d opened the door.

Elaine had backed up to the stairway, one hand grasping the banister for support.

Kathy looked almost as stunned as Elaine was. I...I’m so sorry I told you that I was Sarah...but I was afraid you wouldn’t even see me if I...

She didn’t finish—a tear ran down her face. Oh my god, you’re so beautiful in the flesh, honey! All grown up!

Elaine found this language revolting—this middle-aged woman was almost a stranger to her. A thousand memories rushed through her mind all at once, with such intensity they were only shattered bits and pieces, all swirling together. Kathy leaning over her bed with the thermometer when she had the measles...holding her hand the first time she had seen the beach, in Galveston...her mother’s surprised face when she had run into the living room with a tooth in her hand and saying, Mom, it came out, it came out!

All the memories were from her early childhood, of course, because Kathy had walked out of her life when she was only ten years old.

But then one painful memory of her father flashed through her mind, his warm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. Your mom loves you, Lainie, and she’ll come back, don’t you worry.

Of course Kathy never came back.

And Elaine stopped believing that her mother loved her.

Elaine foggily realized she was just standing there at the bottom of the steps, holding on to the bannister for dear life, wide-eyed, with a look of utter shock on her face. Over the years, she had gradually convinced herself that her mother was most likely dead, and that she would never see the woman again.

Tony entered the foyer, Ryan skipping along on his heels, blissfully unaware of the tense situation.

The five-year old stopped short when he saw Kathy.

Who’s that? he said bluntly.

Nick opened his mouth to respond, but shut it again, looking at Elaine. He clearly had no idea what to say or do, and was leaving it up to her. The term awkward did not begin to describe the atmosphere in the foyer.

Tony came to the rescue, smiling warmly at Kathy. "Signora, I’m-a Tony, he said, and he reached out and shook her hand. Maybe I get you a cappuccino or a latte? Or a glass of red-a wine? You must-a be thirsty..."

Oh, a cappuccino would be wonderful, Kathy gushed. She looked relieved to have something ordinary to talk about. Maybe a double? I’m so jet-lagged I can hardly stand on my feet!

Let me take-a your coat, Tony said. She thanked him and took off the expensive-looking garment. As she did this, Elaine noticed that not only her face but her hands and arms were also deeply tanned.

But who is—? Ryan began

Tony grabbed Ryan’s hand. You come help-a Tony make coffee, okay? He quickly led the boy back into the kitchen.

After another brief moment of uncomfortable silence, Nick muttered, Um, let me get those bags, and dashed out the door. This left Elaine and Kathy standing there alone, but thankfully, only for a couple of seconds.

Nick came back inside and set both of the suitcases next to the stairway, but off to one side. Then, looking a little sheepish and brushing his long hair out of his face, he thrust out his hand. I’m Nick. Nick LaGrange.

Kathy smiled pleasantly, revealing a set of teeth that were as white as Giorgio Cattoretti’s. Hello, Nick. It’s a real pleasure to finally meet you.

* * *

The three of them moved into the kitchen. Elaine felt dazed, as if this scene couldn’t be happening, as if she were watching herself act on some television soap opera.

"Oh, what a charmin’ home you have! Kathy said in her light Texas twang, entering the huge kitchen. She glanced around at the rustic dining table and other antique furnishings. So full of character." In the far corner, by the picture window, was a makeshift playpen that Nick had constructed, where Amelia was now.

As soon as Kathy saw the little girl, she rushed over and began cooing over Amelia, who was already standing, clutching a teddy bear. The toddler glanced up in awe at the tall woman.

Elaine’s first impulse was to rush over and protect her baby daughter from the stranger who had burst into their home, but after taking only one step forward, she stopped herself.

Kathy turned to Ryan, who was just standing there, watching. And you’re just as handsome as a movie star, Ryan! She stepped over and gave him an unwelcome hug. The boy frowned, looking at Elaine with that Who is she? question still on his face, and damn tired of not having it answered.

And I have presents for both of you darlin’s! Kathy opened her leather bag, which was still over her shoulder, and produced two colorfully-wrapped packages.

That was nice of you, Nick said. Ryan tore the wrapping paper off his present and Nick helped Amelia unwrap hers, which turned out to be a magnetic dress-up doll set. Ryan’s was a build-your-own-dinosaur kit.

What do you say, son? Nick said.

Thank you, Ryan said happily, and Kathy bent down and gave him another hug. He looked as if he liked her touch this time, or at least pretended to like it.

Elaine stood there for a second, then said, Tony, why don’t you take the children upstairs? The words came out more crossly than she intended.

As soon as Tony had picked up Amelia and the three had left the room, Nick pulled out a chair for Kathy. Please have a seat.

Elaine glared at him, but she pulled out a chair for herself on the other end of the large table, as far from her mother as possible.

* * *

As soon as they were seated, after a long, nervous-seeming pause, Kathy looked at Elaine and said, I’m sorry I just showed up like this, out of the blue, but I’m such a coward. I’ve been wanting to reconnect with you for...well, forever, but I just couldn’t ever work up the nerve. Every time I started to write you a letter or call you on the phone, I always chickened out. But then I saw that article about you a few months ago in that British newspaper, when I was in Paris...

So that’s how she found me, Elaine thought. A few days after the fiasco at the Charles de Gaulle Airport when Raj was arrested, an unauthorized article had come out in a sleazy British tabloid. Apparently some sneaky reporter had bribed one of the French cops, or perhaps the medics or ambulance drivers, and had gotten Elaine’s and Luna’s names, though Elaine’s was misspelled and there were lots of incorrect facts in the piece. It included a photo of Elaine, on the stretcher, being loaded into the ambulance. The caption said: FBI Agent Elaine Brogen was critically shot by French diamond smuggling suspect in car park of Paris CDG Airport. Miraculously, the Secret Service had managed to keep the incident out of the American media, who chose not to cover it due to a lack of accurate information.

I was so worried, Kathy said. Sarah had told me that you were some kind of law enforcement agent and now worked overseas. I was so upset when I saw that article that I went to the hospital in Paris and made sure you were okay.

Kathy waited for Elaine to respond, but Elaine didn’t know what to say.

Honey, if you want me to get up and leave right now, I’ll go without another word, and you’ll never hear from me again.

* * *

Of course Elaine didn’t have the heart to ask her mother to leave.

For the next half hour, Nick and Kathy made small talk while Elaine continued to sit there, listening to her mother ramble. Now that Elaine had adjusted to the shock, the anger that she felt about her long-lost parent, simply barging into her house was slowly building up inside her, like a pot of water coming to boil. The notion that Kathy had suddenly been worried about her, after all these years, was almost laughable. Elaine wondered if she had some ulterior motive for coming here.

Kathy had changed significantly, that was evident, and not just in appearance. The young woman that Elaine remembered from her early childhood was a sloppy, chain smoking supermarket clerk who drank too much and wallowed in self-pity, a washed-up, former teenage beauty whose only accomplishment in life had been winning the title of homecoming queen at her high school.

But there was almost no trace of that Kathy Brogan in the woman who sat on the other end of the kitchen table. She still spoke with a Texas accent, dropping her g’s, but it was much less pronounced. In fact, it sounded almost refined. The lady sitting there in her kitchen seemed worldly, sophisticated, well mannered, and confident in herself. This was both puzzling and irritating.

However, below this refined, self-assured veneer, Elaine thought she detected anxiety. Was it just nervousness about being in this situation, or something else? Elaine noticed that Kathy purposefully kept the conversation focused on small talk.

Once the kids were napping, Tony came back downstairs and served a round of his homemade bruschetta, the bell on the security console rang again, indicating someone else was at the front gate.

Kathy visibly jumped, nearly dropping the toasted bread on her plate.

I answer, Tony said, and he sashayed out of the kitchen.

The crack in Kathy’s composure only lasted a split second. She regained it so quickly that Elaine wasn’t even sure Nick caught it.

Romeo and Juliet were stirred by the sound of the new arrival. When they gave only a couple of perfunctory barks, as if they somehow knew it was a friend, Elaine was sure it was Luna.

So how’s-a life in the LBGTQ community? Elaine heard Tony quip.

As if you’re not one of the founding fathers, Luna replied in her deep voice. Or should I say mothers?

The banter caused Kathy to raise an eyebrow.

It’s one of Elaine’s colleagues, Nick explained to her. But Elaine was sure Kathy already knew Luna from the newspaper article.

When the towering half-African, half-Native American woman entered the kitchen, her hulking form nearly filled the doorway. Luna was dressed in a chocolate and red-trimmed jogging outfit and trainers, a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder. Whenever she came to visit, she always put Elaine through at least one intense martial arts training session, sometimes two, and they usually went jogging together along the path that led to the village.

Hey, Luna said to Nick, setting the bag down on the floor. Only then did she notice the unfamiliar woman sitting across from him. Oh...I didn’t realize... It took her only milliseconds and a subtle glance at the faces around the room to understand that there was something very wrong with this picture.

I’m Kathy, Elaine’s mother said, rising from her chair and offering her hand. Kathy Brogan.

Luna seemed taken aback by the last name, and she shot a quick glance at Elaine as the two of them shook hands.

Elaine stood up, Luna hugging her with a powerful arm. How you doin’, baby-doll? Elaine couldn’t answer. For some reason, when she sat back down at the table she felt like a small child. It was clear that Luna had already made a good guess about what was going on. She knew the basic details of Elaine’s past.

For some reason, Luna’s touch also made Elaine feel emotional, and a lump formed in her throat. I’m fine. It was the first word she had uttered since they’d all come into the kitchen, and she was shocked at the meekness of her own voice—she not only felt like a little girl, she sounded like one, too.

Double cappuccino? Tony asked Luna, already priming the espresso machine.

That would be great, Luna said. As she seated herself next to Elaine and glanced at Kathy again, a fierce, protective look flickered across her angular face.

Kathy smiled amicably. So do you work for the FBI, too?

Nick, Elaine and Luna exchanged glances. Tony looked over his shoulder from the espresso machine.

They don’t work for the FBI, Nick said. Then, after a couple of seconds of hesitation, he apparently decided it was okay for her to know more. They work for the Secret Service—that article you read was wrong.

Elaine frowned at him disapprovingly. She didn’t need to know that.

Kathy smiled at Luna and Elaine, as if impressed. Well, FBI, CIA, Secret Service—I don’t really know the difference. That must be very interestin’ work, even though it’s obviously very dange—

I’ve had enough of this, Elaine snapped. The words just seemed to fly out of her mouth, unbidden. She stood up so abruptly that she bumped her hip against the table. Nick’s coffee cup clattered against the saucer. Elaine’s eyes bored into Kathy’s. You and I need to talk.

Kathy looked as rattled as Nick’s coffee cup, and she stood up, too. Yes. Yes of course we do, honey.

* * *

Elaine led her mother out of the kitchen, past the living room, and into the workout room. In her humble opinion, the crude woman didn’t even deserve the comfort of a chair.

They walked only a few feet across the squishy exercise mats before Elaine stopped and whirled around to face her mother. She unleashed a flurry of angry words that seemed to come out of nowhere, but all the sentences had been thoughts that had run through her mind thousands of times before over the course of her life.

"How dare you barge into my house like this! You walked out on me when I was ten years old, ran away with some boy-toy coworker of yours at the supermarket, never to be seen or heard from again! I was only a little girl! Do you know how much that hurt me, how selfish you were, and probably still are? If you think you’re going to waltz back into my life now, as if nothing happened, you can think again!"

Elaine was so outraged that she was only half-aware of what she said.

Kathy just stood there next to the red EVERLAST punching bag. It hung between them from the ceiling, perfectly still, like a silent referee. Her mother seemed completely unfazed by the verbal onslaught. Then one lone tear ran down her cheek.

She wiped it away with a finger. I know you’re angry with me, honey.

‘Honey’? Elaine mimicked. "I don’t even know you! You have no right to use endearments with me! After all this time, you may as well be a total stranger who walked in off the street."

Now Kathy looked hurt. That’s not true, Elaine. I was always there, watchin’ over you, makin’ sure you were all right and ready to come to your rescue—you just didn’t know it, baby.

Ha! Sure you were.

It’s the truth. Kathy sniffled, then pulled a frilly handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. Despite her crying, she beamed at Elaine. I always kept track of you, made sure you were okay, at least until you finished at Bromley. She paused. Did you know I was there when you graduated?

Elaine blinked. You were?

I certainly was. I was sittin’ in the very back of the auditorium. And I was there when you graduated from Rhode Island School of Design, too. Kathy paused, beaming again. When I watched you walk across that stage and take that diploma into your hands, it was one of the greatest moments of my life—I was so proud I could have burst! The first person from my family ever to graduate from college!

Elaine was a little thrown by all this.

Kathy blew her nose into her handkerchief, her eyes now bloodshot and teary. I know that leavin’ you and your father was a terrible thing to do—an unforgivable thing, really—but you have to understand, honey, when you were born, I was eighteen years old. Why, I was just a child myself. When Patrick got me pregnant in the back of his van in Pensacola—

Spare me the sordid details, will you?

"The point is, I wasn’t ready to be a mother, Elaine. Can you understand that? You’re a mother, too, but you were smart enough to wait until you were older. Can you imagine what it would have been like if you’d had a baby when you were only eighteen?"

Elaine found it hard to sympathize with any of this. Kathy was basically telling her that she was an unwelcome accident and that, finally, after ten years of raising her little girl, she had gotten fed up and decided to leave.

On top of that, Kathy wasn’t even being honest. The real reason she left was because she was jealous of Elaine, jealous of all the attention that her husband showered on his daughter. Elaine would never forget the night when her mother said Maybe you would rather little Lainie sleep in our bed and I can sleep in her room? and her father then slapping her so hard it had knocked her off her feet. Elaine wasn’t actually in the same room with them at the time, but, through the wall, she’d heard both the comment and the sound of her mother hitting the floor. As far as she knew, it was the only time Patrick had ever struck Kathy, but it was such a heinous thing to say that Elaine thought her mother deserved it. A couple of weeks later, Kathy disappeared with a checkout clerk from the local supermarket, where they both worked.

What exactly do you want, Kathy? Elaine said. She refused to call her Mother or Mom—Kathy had not earned that privilege. Why did you come here?

Kathy looked surprised. Isn’t it obvious?

No, it’s not.

Kathy sniffled again, wiped her nose, and put her handkerchief back in her pocket. I can never make up for what I did to you, honey, I know that, but I can make it up to your children. With her blue eyes brightening, she said, I’m more than ready to be a grandmother now—have been for a long time!

Well that’s just wonderful, Elaine thought. She wanted to ask: and do you really think I would trust you with my precious children?

I’ll be the best grandmother that’s ever lived, too, Kathy went on, swept away by her fantasy. You’ll see that, if you just give me a chance. Please?

Elaine’s first impulse was to tell her mother to get the hell out of the house. But as these words formed on her tongue, she hesitated, remembering how much Nick had always wanted the kids to have a grandmother. And she had wanted that for her children, too, honestly. She and Nick had lamented that neither Ryan or Amelia would have the experience of a relationship with grandparents. This issue was especially important to Nick, because he’d been quite close to his grandmother on his mother’s side of the family.

Elaine glanced down at her mother’s tanned arms. Where do you live now, anyway?

I—I’m in the process of movin’ to Florida.

From where?

Well, until just recently, I was livin’ in Greece, with my husband. He’s Greek. But we’re, um, gettin’ a divorce.

Aha, Elaine thought. That’s the real reason she showed up now. She was all alone. And probably broke, too.

Don’t worry, Kathy said reassuringly. I have plenty of money, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself. And after the divorce settlement I’ll be even more financially secure. I was thinkin’ that I could sell the house in Florida and move to Nice or Cannes or somewhere nearby—not too close, of course, I know you and your husband want your privacy. He’s amazin’, by the way, so strong and handsome, but with a heart of gold, too, just like your father, God rest his soul. She paused. Anyway, if I moved somewhere nearby, I could see my lovely grandchildren more often than just once a year.

Elaine considered all this noncommittally.

Please let me be a grandmother for your two precious children, honey. Please? Kathy looked a little