Chapter Twenty-ThreeY
ogi and I were in the backyard playing Fetch when the faint sound of my doorbell drifted through the kitchen’s open window. Rather than trek through the house to the front door, I walked over to the gate in my picket fence and shouted, “I’m around back.”
In seconds, Eileen rounded the house’s corner and trotted through the side yard. Her expression was inscrutable.
I held the gate open for her. “You’ve talked with Laurel and Frank?”
“Yeah. I know about the bank statements. I assume that’s why you texted me.”
“No. There’s some other stuff you may not know. Soda?”
“Water. Thanks.”
In the kitchen, I filled two glasses with ice water and carried them out to the picnic table, where I took a seat across from Eileen. Yogi stretched out under the table for a nap.
Eile
