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She rolled her eyes. I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words.
Zane frowned.
Calm down. Clary picked up her mug again just so her hands would be occupied. “Yes, I lied last night. I know where the key is, but I also think we already have more than enough to drink. Besides, the wine collection doesn’t belong to me. I wouldn’t feel right letting Aldric down there to take whatever he wants.” She sucked in a breath through her mouth. “But I’m not lying when I say Seth knows about Pete.” She drummed her fingers on the mug. “You can simply ask Seth.”
“Ask me what?” Seth came strolling in.
Despite the casualness of his stride, it was obvious he was carefully watching Zane.
Or giving his brother a warning glance.
She wasn’t sure. “Do you know that Pete Laker’s still in contact with me?”
Seth nodded and walked over to her. “He’s been bombarding her phone,” he said to Zane.
“And did I reply to any of the text messages?”
“No, she didn’t.” Seth looked between Clary and Zane, then turned his attention back to his brother. “I saw her phone.”
“I may not be an FBI agent, but the fact that Seth had to substantiate his statement means this whole I-do-not-trust-Clary thing isn’t the first time it’s happened.” She opened her mouth, intending to let Zane know how ironic it was for them to behave like Holly Eolenfeld, the monster they so detested.
But by God’s grace, and only because of that, she was able to shut her mouth before releasing those spiteful words. Oh, Jesus.
Again, Zane remained quiet.
“It isn’t because he doesn’t trust you,” Seth said. “It’s …”
Eolenfelds. Clary bit down on her lips and closed her eyes so she couldn’t roll them. Because bringing up the Eolenfeld name whenever the Andersons wanted to find fault with her was beginning to seem like an excuse.
After releasing a slow breath through her nose, she opened her eyes and finally took a sip of her coffee. “I can only have two Face IDs on my phone, so I can’t add your face to it too.” She’d told Seth to add his so she wouldn’t have to pry her eyes open to unlock the phone for him when she wanted to sleep. “My phone’s upstairs. Five-one-five-one-two-three. Go through whatever you want.”
Zane’s face gave nothing away while Clary drew another breath through her nose.
Between Zane’s on-and-off suspicions and Elton’s outright hostility, she realized she preferred the latter. At least with Elton, she didn’t expect of him to be nice to her. Rather than getting caught off-guard by Zane like this.
“Anything else you would like to check about Pete Laker?” she asked in as calm a voice as she could muster.
“I think Elton might be on to something,” Zane said.
Seth shook his head. “Not now, Zane.”
“About what?” she asked, bracing herself. Elton had said a lot of things, but none of them were good, so she was prepared. “Are we still talking about Pete Laker?”
Zane nodded. “The Eolenfelds always hire their own private investigators.”
Though she swallowed her groan, Clary tipped her head back in frustration.
“You can just ignore him,” Seth said.
She could, but then this issue would always be there, wouldn’t it? “Mr. E wouldn’t hire a private investigator to check up on me. If he wants to know something, he asks.”
“He wouldn’t check up on you, but what about us?”
Clary rubbed her fingertips against her forehead. “You think he’d hire an idiot like Pete? Money isn’t everything, but it can buy talent—better talent than Pete.”
“Pete is an ex-detective.”
Clary sucked in a breath for her retort, but she stopped herself at the last second because she realized Zane would also have a retort for every one of hers.
