CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Cash and I exchanged apprehensive glances before the four of us scurried downstairs.
“We better call Ald,” Linda said, turning on the farmhouse-inspired pendant lights over the counter.
I blinked at the sudden brightness. “You do that while I try Jimmy C.”
“He didn’t answer when I tried him after the call from GRP but go for it! I’ll try Ald again.” She raced into the living room to make the call with the mobile phone.
Rey pulled out one of the many organic cotton lunch bags we had stuffed in a bottom drawer and quickly jammed four water bottles and two boxes of Pot Pan crackers into it. “Let’s head over to his place.”
“He’s not likely to be to be there,” I stated uneasily, visualizing a very unpleasant scene as I dialed Jimmy C’s number again.
“Sounds like GRP
