Dead Lift by Rachel Brady Read Free Book Online Page A

that dress belongs to is in jail right now, alone and miserable and missing her kids. Do you think she’d like to know you’re fondling her clothes?”
    She skulked away.
    Twenty minutes later, she found me again, this time in a guest room. Its only point of interest was an enormous bookcase on which Claire kept more photo albums. I was sitting on the bed, flipping through a book of wedding pictures when Jeannie came in with a small wooden box and plopped down beside me.
    “Found this in the back of her closet. Bunch of letters inside.” She leaned into me for a view of the album in my lap. “That her hubby?”
    I tapped a man in an olive green suit and lamb chop sideburns. “Her first, I think. These are old.”
    Jeannie cocked her head. “You hear that?”
    I listened, shook my head.
    “Thought I heard a car,” she said.
    Then, there was the unmistakable sound of car doors thumping closed.
    “Someone’s here,” I said. Jeannie put the box on the floor and I slid the wedding album back into its spot. Below, the back door flung open so fast it hit the wall. Loud, asymmetrical footfalls sounded in the kitchen. We headed for the stairs.
    Jeannie followed me down the steps and a pair of sweaty, hurried boys spun around the corner and stopped, staring.
    “Hi,” I said.
    “Who are you?” The younger one’s shaggy bangs prevented me from looking him fully in the eyes, but I could see enough to know these were Claire’s sons.
    “Friends of your mom,” Jeannie said, apparently having reached the same conclusion. “She sent us to pick up a few things.”
    “Have you seen her?” The older one seemed disbelieving.
    Unsure how much they knew of their mom’s situation, I lied and said no.
    I walked the rest of the way down the stairs and peered around the corner to the kitchen, where they’d left the back door open. “Who drove you here?”
    The older one shrugged. “A friend. We’re getting stuff too.” He thumped up the steps, followed by his brother, and we waited in the foyer, listening to them open and close closet doors and talk in hushed tones.
    Jeannie pointed at her Tag Heuer. “Gym time.”
    A gust of wind caught the back door and blew it hard against the wall. “These guys are supposed to be at their grandmother’s,” I told Jeannie in a low voice. “I want to meet the ‘friend.’”
    I left her in the foyer and went to the back porch, pulling the door shut behind me. The sky had grown overcast since I’d arrived. Thick air and a heavy breeze suggested a storm was coming.
    A Lexus idled in the drive, windows down. Rock music played inside, but it wasn’t objectionably loud. Two teens waited in the front seat, unaware I was watching. The driver perched a hand on the steering wheel, a cigarette between his fingers. His friend wasn’t smoking but casually flicked a lighter.
    “We haven’t met.” I leaned down on the driver’s side, low enough to see both boys. “Can I get your names?”
    Too late, I realized I didn’t even know Claire’s sons’ names. The kids in the Lexus watched me impassively.
    “Jeff,” said the driver. He made no effort to hide his cigarette.
    “Chase,” said the other.
    “What’s your plan for today?”
    “Skate park,” Chase said. “Xbox later.”
    Then Jeff asked, “Is Kevin around? Thursday he said he’d be around.”
    “I’m not here to talk about him.” I had no idea who Kevin was. “I’m here to talk about
this
.” I reached through the window and plucked the cigarette from Jeff’s fingers. “You know better.”
    Claire’s boys barreled from the kitchen, now toting backpacks. Jeannie followed them to the car.
    I stopped the older one. “Why are your computers missing?”
    “Grandma’s getting us new ones.” He pulled open the back door and slid inside. His brother followed suit.
    “Does your mom use her machine much?”
    He shrugged. “Nah. We always have to help her. Or her boyfriend will, if he’s around.”
    “Have fun at the