His mother had grown up on the Upper East Side. She was the daughter of privilege who cared more for her current crusade than for what might be printed on the society page.
His dad was privileged in his own right. Bluestone Mountain royalty descended from one of the founding miners of the area. As a young man he hadn’t been able to blow out of his hometown for civilization fast enough. He’d headed to Manhattan, where he’d earned a law degree, an enviable job with a company he was still employed by some forty years later, and a wife who’d insisted they rear their only son in the Catskills’ fresh air.
His father commuted to this very day.
“Why are you here so late?” Jack asked.
“Your mother had a fundraiser tonight. She stayed in the city.”
“But you came home?”
His father rolled his eyes, a look Jack knew meant he hadn’t made the trip willingly. “Gus-Gus isn’t doing so well.”
That explained it. Gus-Gus was the patriarch of his mother’s hoard of Maltese dogs. Eighteen years old if he was a day. “Michaela couldn’t have kept an eye on him?”
“Your mother would have cancelled the whole event if she could have gotten away with it. The governor doesn’t have another free slot in her schedule for six months.”
“She didn’t want to leave Gus-Gus at Michaela’s mercy.” The family’s live-in housekeeper didn’t have the same soft spot for dogs that Jack’s mother had. “She’s afraid Michaela won’t hear him if he has trouble breathing. And if he does go downhill, she knows Michaela won’t usher him from life in the style to which he’s accustomed.”
“She trusts you?”
“I have detailed instructions.”
Maltese dogs, both old and young, were serious business in the Sloan house. His mother drove a gas-guzzling Suburban just so she could transport her dogs back and forth between Bluestone and the family apartment in the city. She’d mentioned on several occasions that Gus-Gus didn’t travel as easily as he had in his youth, so Jack knew it must have killed her to leave him behind with one paw in the grave. “If you’re on death watch, then what are you doing here?”
“He was breathing fine when I left,” his father scoffed. “Just don’t mention you saw me.”
“No problem.”
His father adjusted the pin on the weights and got down to business. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be with Jessica Mathis at the gallery opening? I thought your mother said it was tonight, which is why she didn’t ask you to babysit the dog.”
Jack supposed it was good to know she’d have trusted him. “Had to cancel. Working an investigation with Randy.”
His father gave a low whistle. “Better come up with a better reason than that. Your mother will be asking how your date went. Trust me. She likes Jessica.”
“Don’t want to hear it.”
His father chuckled. “A heads-up then because if you think your mother is ever going to back down, think again.”
“She says she wants me to be happy,” Jack said.
“You’re thirty-four, Jack, and single. She doesn’t think you can be happy.”
“Run interference for me. Remind her that she wouldn’t settle for coming in second to your job.”
His dad shook his head. “Don’t know a woman who would.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Lots of women don’t mind the trade-off. Otherwise no doctor on this planet would be married. Pastors or professional athletes, either. She’s out there. Trust me. I just haven’t found her yet.”
“So I should tell your mother to cool her jets because you’re looking for the perfect woman.”
“Yeah.”
Something about that seemed to amuse his dad, who smiled and said, “I’ll do what I can, but I’m not sure anything will work. Your mother’s biological clock is ticking.”
“What started all this up again?”
“Kelly had twins. You’d think those babies were our grandchildren with the way your mother’s been shopping. She even had a sign made for Kelly that reads Twins and Another. What a Lucky Mother!”
Jack sighed.
Kelly was a long-time family friend, a car pool buddy from elementary school. There was no way Jack could compete with Kelly’s ten-year marriage, three kids and white picket fence.
His dad knew it, too. He set the weights into place with a light clank and faced Jack. “Maybe I’ll try the doctor angle. Sacrificing yourself for the good of mankind should appeal to her.”
“Sounds noble.” Jack chuckled. “Protecting the streets is saving lives. Trust me.”
“That’s what you’re doing over at Greywacke Lodge? Saving lives?”
Jack paused midcurl and let the barbell rest on his thigh. “How’d you hear about Greywacke Lodge?”
“Your grandfather is close friends with Judge Pierce. Remember, they’re both past Grand Knights?”
“Got it.” Bluestone’s good old boy connection.
“So does your grandfather. He’s decided your investigation is another reason not to consider senior living.”
At eighty-two, Jack’s grandfather was definitely past the point where living alone was good for his health and everyone else’s stress levels. If his mother and Michaela didn’t bring food every day, the stubborn old guy would starve.
He couldn’t get out much anymore. His failing eyesight made driving unsafe even when the roads weren’t half iced over in the dead of winter. Jack squeezed in time for visits whenever he was in that part of town, but he could tell by how reluctant his grandfather was to let him leave again that those visits weren’t nearly enough.
“So what’s Granddad waiting for?” Jack asked. “You to invite him to move into your place?”
“Already did. Makes sense. At least we’d have Michaela to keep her eyes on him. It’s not like your mom or I are around enough to get in his way.”
“What’s the problem then?”
“Doesn’t want to lose his independence. If he gives up the house…” He let the thought trail off. “But from what I’m hearing about theft at Greywacke Lodge, maybe that isn’t the answer, either.”
“Theft?”
His father paused in between reps and leaned back on the bench, dragging the towel across his face. “Isn’t someone stealing the residents’ credit cards?”
“Granddad said that?”
They exchanged a glance. “Then you’re not investigating the woman who runs the place?”
Jack shook his head. “Haven’t even ruled out the card owner.”
“Oh. Your grandfather must have misunderstood. Not like that hasn’t happened before.”
“Maybe not. You’re not the first person to mention this.”
“Didn’t you go to school with the woman who runs the place, Jack?”
“Yeah. Same year, anyway.”
“So you weren’t friends? She never came over to the house?”
“No, Dad. She never came over to the