“Pushed ye?” Matt and his crew all let out big, hearty, booming laughs. “If I pushed ye, laddy, ye wouldn’t still be standing.”
“That’s a threat,” Bud said loudly, looking around at the spectators. “I have witnesses,” he added, glaring back at Matt.
Matt’s grin faded into a scowl. “Ye have witnesses to what a fool ye are. I’m a lover not a fighter, but ye be testing me patience, laddy.” His hands were loosely balled into fists, and his uncle cracked his knuckles, no words necessary. “I didn’t so much as lay a finger on yer weak self.”
“I’m not weak,” Bud growled out.
“Really now?” Finn’s gaze ran over the length of him.
“Hell, even I could take him,” Aidan said.
“No one’s going to take anyone,” Matt said. “Besides, he can’t prove a thing.”
“Yeah? Tell it to the judge,” Bud said with bravado even though his eyes were filled with worry. “You have no idea what I can do.”
“Aye, but ye have no idea what we can do, and there’s a whole clan of us.” Matt’s uncle spit to the side and clenched his jaw.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” Bud said, as he shuffled away.
“Shocker.” I watched him go, then I turned to Matt. “Seems like you’re always coming to my rescue.”
“Well, if ye had let me drive us both here, then I wouldn’t have to, lass.”
“For the millionth time, I can take care of myself.” I crossed my arms.
“I like yer lass, boy.” His uncle grinned wide. “Ye’ve chosen well.”
“Uncle Liam, this is Tiffany.” Matt gave me an apologetic look. “Tiffany, this is me Uncle Liam.”
Chosen? For what? My contribution to the Children of the Clover? I looked at all four of them, wondering if they all had clover tattoos. Not Aidan…yet, anyway.
I cleared my throat. “Nice to meet you, Liam, but Matt didn’t choose anything,” I clarified. “Because we’re not anything. Well, except soon-to-be co-parents.”
“Aye, whatever ye say, lass.” He gestured to Finn and Aidan. “Come along, lads. Let’s leave the co-parents to it.” He led the way over to the beer tent.
“Sorry about that. The name Liam means strong-willed warrior or protector. That pretty much sums up me uncle.” Matt held his hands up. “He’s beyond stubborn, but there’s no one I’d rather have by me side to defend me than me uncle.”
“Well, that’s good because I have a feeling that you’re going to need to be defended.” I sighed.
“I’m not worried, lass. I’m more than capable of defending meself.”
“You should be. Bud is a very convincing liar.” I shook my head. “I didn’t tell you, but he served me with papers.”
Matt’s face twisted into disgust. “He’s suing ye again?”
“Yes.” I nodded and then felt sick over my next words. “And apparently, he’s now suing you too.”
“Hi, Tiffany, come on in.” Victoria Steele opened the door to the Steely Knight Agency at the end of Lighthouse Lane on Freedom Lake. It wasn’t too far down from Smith’s Funeral Home.
“Thanks, Victoria.” I took a seat at a table with plush chairs around it and a wall of windows that overlooked the lake. The sky was an ominous gray with high winds that made the lake choppy. It looked like rain at any moment.
It was a fitting day that matched my mood.
Alexandra Knight walked in with a folder. “Hi, ladies. Sorry I’m late. I was printing these images.”
“What images?” I asked.
“The ones from the security camera from your salon,” Alex replied.
“That’s why we called you here,” Vicky added.
Both women were in their fifties. Fit, fabulous and dressed to kill in power suits, with ruthless reputations. Alex had short jet-black hair that was slicked back, and deep red lipstick in sharp contrast to her pale skin. While Vicky had buzzed platinum-blonde hair and white lipstick that stood out against her caramel skin. You could see the crafty, cunning determination blazing in both their eyes. No wonder Grammy liked them so much.
They played to win.
Alex opened the manila folder and spread the images on the table before us. Matt’s back was to the camera, and he was so much bigger than Bud, it was hard to tell what had actually happened when Bud fell backwards off the porch.
Vicky hit play on her laptop, and the footage showed Matt take a quick step toward Bud, and then Bud tumbling off the porch. You couldn’t see Matt’s hands to tell if he pushed Bud or not, but the quick movement forward implied he did.
I squinted at the footage. “Wow, that doesn’t look good.”
“It’s not the best look for Mr. McGinnis.” Alex pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “It’s also not absolute proof that he actually laid hands on Mr. Grant.”
“We need to find a way to prove he’s lying about his neck injury,” Vicky said.
“Easier said than done. He’s good. Lying is second nature to him. He’s been lying about his bad back for years. He claims I had more than enough money to support us when we were married, but I forced him to work. Since he didn’t have an education, he could only get construction work, which led to a back injury.”
