* * *
Edith Peters was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping iced tea, when Keely got up the courage to come downstairs about a half hour later.
Edith sat in one chair, Sadie in another, the two of them flanked by Jack and Joey. Ms. Peters was scribbling on a paper on her clipboard.
“So, Mr. Morretti, what you’re saying is that you feel that, as the closest blood relative, you should be given custody of your niece?”
“Well, yeah,” Joey said, sitting back, looping an arm over the back of the chair. “Ain’t it obvious?”
“Mr. Morretti, I’m learning that nothing is obvious, especially around here. But I would like some information from you, if I might, as Ms. Morretti is your sister.”
“Yeah, go ahead—shoot,” Joey told her, sniffing. He rubbed a forefinger under his nose, adjusted his dark glasses. “What does ya wants to know?”
Keely walked over to the counter, took down a glass, then filled it with ice water from the refrigerator-door dispenser. She shook her head at Jack as he half rose from his seat and hoisted herself into one of the tall chairs that lined the breakfast bar.
“Well, Mr. Morretti, if you don’t mind,” Ms. Peters continued, “I believe I’d like to know, for starters, if you’re aware of the identity of Candy’s father.”
Joey’s grin was positively evil as he leaned forward, propped his elbows on the table. “First, Sis would hafta know, and she don’t,” he said with some glee. “Sis gets around, if youse all take my meanin’.”
“Down boy,” Jack said tightly, looking disgusted. “Ms. Peters, I understand it was donor sperm.”
“Yeah,” Joey sniffed. “Some bozo named Rain Dance, or somethin’ like dat. So if any of youse is thinkin’, ya know, dat there’s some daddy gonna show up, he ain’t. Yer’re lookin’ at the responsible person here. I’ve got papers.”
“Yeah, that’s true enough, he does have papers,” Jack said, looking at Ms. Peters. “And with a little luck, we’ll have him fully trained in a couple of weeks.”
Keely pressed a hand over her mouth, her earlier tears obviously having given way to a tendency toward hysterics, because Jack’s words—and the memory of Joey’s perfect attendance plaque—struck her as unbelievably funny. She was probably losing her mind, she decided.
Ms. Peters unclipped the thick packet of papers and thumped them against the edge of the table. “I can see that this was a mistake,” she said, looking at Aunt Sadie. “I believe I need to interview each of you separately, as I feel more than a hint of animosity in this room. Mr. Trehan? If you and Ms. McBride and Ms. Trehan would step outside, please? I’d like to complete my interview with Mr. Morretti. I’ll be back tomorrow to complete my interviews with the rest of you, then make my preliminary recommendations to the court. This is one case I definitely don’t want to have drag out too long.”
Keely’s stomach did a small flip as Jack’s cheeks went pale, as he rose slowly, obviously reluctant to leave his cousin and Ms. Peters together. “All right, tomorrow then. But we’ll... we’ll be available at any time, if you need us any more today,” he said, then held out his hand to Keely, who took it. “Aunt Sadie? Are you coming?”
“No, dear, not just yet,” she told him. “I want to go check on Sweetness. The boy’s still terribly upset.”
“That’s my fault, Sadie,” Edith Peters told her. “I overreacted, definitely. It’s just that the last time I saw a jolly green giant, he was on a bag of frozen peas.”
“I know, dear,” Aunt Sadie assured her, patting her shoulder. “You’re a good sport, Edith, a really good sport.”
“In this job, Sadie, you have to be. Either that or go heavily into self-medication.”
Keely, amazed, smiled her best smile at Edith Peters as Jack all but dragged her out the back door.