Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Really, Valley? An ethics professor? For a matriarch in a crime family?”
“The beauty of it is he genuinely believes ethics are subjective. We had a long debate once about murder.”
“Murder?”
“Yeah, and most people pretty much concluded that there were times when it felt morally right to kill someone.”
“Like when?”
“Mass shooting events came up. When it is to protect others. That sort of thing.”
“Pretty sure us killing to protect the family isn’t the same as taking out someone committing mass murder.”
“You never know. I mean, there were some people in the class who insisted that there was no such thing as a good reason to kill another. Not even to stop them from killing dozens of others. So it says something that he believes there can be reasons.”
“Well, we don’t even know if it matters since we don’t even know if Mom wants to date.”
“True. But you never know until you try. Speaking of trying,” she said, nodding over toward where Hazel and the professor were speaking. “I think I was interrupting a moment.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Why?”
“She works for me.”
“So what?”
“So, I need her to keep working for me.”
“And the two of you are immature eighteen-year-olds who couldn’t possibly navigate the aftermath of a hook-up. Oh wait.”
“You know how complicated it—”
Just then, Domenico walked up with the pizzas just as the squeals started from the final performer in the woods, cutting off our conversation.
Which was good.
Because the last thing I needed was someone giving me permission to hook up with the woman who not only worked for me but who I’d just lied to mercilessly.
CHAPTER TEN
Hazel
I tried to let it go.
Really, I did.
I probably could have.
Except after the family night at the garden center, those men I figured might be connected to the Grassis were still at work every single day. Sure, there were fewer of them, but they were always around, lingering, watching, not speaking. It was borderline creepy.
And no one was talking about it.
Not Domenico.
Not the other employees.
I almost felt like everyone understood something I just wasn’t privy to.
As someone in a position of authority, I guess I had to be happy that everyone seemed to be on their best behavior since the men showed up. No sneaking off to smoke pot, no talking in groups when they were supposed to be working, not even showing up late.
That said, it was weird.
And I didn’t like not being in the know.
It felt weird to ask them, though.
So I tried to keep my head down and just do my job. It was hard, though, when everywhere I turned, there seemed to be someone lingering. While I didn’t feel like any of them were watching me, per se, it felt uncomfortable.
I started spending more time inside the shop, pretending that ordering and researching new artisans for the upcoming Christmas season required all my attention.
The thing was, browsing stuff online left a lot of room for my mind to roam. And roam it did. To the night in the woods, to the memory of the man, my certainty at the time that he was real. Then, of course, it drifted to the conversation with Dante.
It still didn’t feel right.
One thing I’d noticed every time I spoke to Dante was how good he was at eye contact. He knew just the balance between engaged listener and creep. I always felt like he was listening to understand, not just to wait for his turn to speak.
That conversation about the body had been different. He hadn’t looked at me once. Well, he’d looked toward me a few times, but not directly at me. There hadn’t been any eye contact.
What other conclusion could be drawn but that he’d lied to me?
The thing was, I couldn’t figure out why.
What would he have to gain by convincing me that a body wasn’t a body?
If this was some TV show or movie, I would come to the conclusion it was because he’d killed the guy.
Except… both he and Domenico had seemed genuinely shocked about my finding a body in the woods.
So if there was, like I suspected, a body there, why would they lie about it? Because of business? Was he worried about the bad press? About people thinking it wasn’t safe? About all the schools backing out because of parental backlash?
It was a valid concern, of course. We were right in the middle of the busy season. If he lost customers now, it might not only tank the Halloween season, but Christmas too.
It wasn’t like someone just had a heart attack or something from fear. Tragic, sure, but understandable. There were extenuating circumstances, bad health, etc.
But if someone was stabbed to death? There was no spinning that.
Still, was that good enough of a reason to… what? Hide a body?
My head whipped to the side, looking out the window, staring at the sprawling woods.