Page 68 of It Runs in the Family

“Yep.”

“But Granny’s not anywhere close to dyin’,” I said in confusion. “It could be decades.” Then another thought hit me. “Unless I missed that she’s dyin’.”

“She’s not dyin’,” Ava said with a laugh. “At least that we know of. But they’re playin’ the long game. Uncle Dale thinks he should get the place because he’s the oldest, but Aunt Millie thinks she should get it because Uncle Dale’s a screw-up with five ex-wives.”

My heart broke for my grandmother. “Poor Granny. Does she know why they come?”

“Granny’s not stupid,” Mary Ellen said. “She’s one of the most cunning women I’ve ever met.” She shot me a look. “You know that. Come on, Iris. Where’s your head? You’re the one who usually figures people out.”

“Well…” Ava said with a grimace. “Except for when it comes to boyfriends.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I said dryly.

Ava turned in her seat to look me dead in the eyes. “From the look on your face, I know you’re thinkin’ about Boone, but he had us fooled too. And we’re much better judges of character when it comes to men.”

Not by much.

Ava turned back around and gasped, pointing to a turn-off about twenty feet ahead. “Oops! That’s the turn! Right up there!”

Mary Ellen hit the brakes, and the car skidded as she slowed down enough to make the turn. The car fish-tailed before she righted it and shot down the county road.

Ava beamed with pride. “You really are an excellent driver, sis.”

“Thanks.”

I wanted to point out that an excellent driver would be able to see the road and wouldn’t have had to make a turn like that, but I also had to admit that a lot of drivers would have lost control making a turn going thirty miles an hour. I was thankful we hadn’t crashed into a light pole or flipped upside down on the side of the road.

I was lost in thought for the five minutes it took to get to Bueller’s, stewing over the new worry that had been added to my growing pile of concerns—my family thinking I was after Granny’s farm, which thankfully did take my mind off Mary Ellen’s driving.

We pulled into the parking lot of a building that looked like it would blow over in a strong wind, but Bueller’s had been here for longer than I knew. I’d heard my aunts talking about how their father had been a frequent visitor to the bar before his untimely death, and I was pretty sure it hadn’t been new then. There were about ten cars in the parking lot and a couple of Harley Davidsons. After my run-in with Billy and his mother, I wasn’t sure I was up to facing a tough crowd. I almost told my cousins I’d changed my mind, but then I remembered one of Selena’s recent exes used to hang out here. If he was here—which was doubtful on an early Sunday afternoon—maybe he could point me in a direction to look for her.

I reminded myself that I’d vowed to stop looking for her, but now that Boone was interested in her, I was even more worried. For all I knew, his statement about his brother could have been a lie. Had he created the excuse so I’d be more willing to tell him when I found her? Did he want to help me look for her for his own nefarious reasons?

I needed to find Selena on my own so I could warn her she was in trouble.

Chapter Nineteen

We got out of the car and headed for the entrance. My cousins flanked me as though they expected me to either bolt for the car or take off running down the county road.

I groaned. “I’m not gonna run off. I said I’d come.”

“Actually,” Ava said as Mary Ellen opened the solid metal door. “You never agreed. You just stopped protesting.”

“I decided I wanted to come.”

The sisters exchanged a look that suggested they weren’t buying it, so I strode past them and entered the bar.

And instantly remembered why I didn’t like this place.

Bueller’s wasn’t even a tenth of the size of T-Birds. Booths lined one wall, the bar ran the length of the opposite wall, and several tables were scattered in the middle. A jukebox was on the far end, along with doors to the restrooms on either side. The room was dark, dimly lit by pendant lights over the booth tables and two TV screens hanging over the bar. One TV showed a basketball game and the other had some kind of car race, but no one was paying attention to the screens. A couple of older men were hunkered over the bar, sitting in silence. A group of younger, rougher-looking men were hunkered in a booth at the back, and a man and a woman were sitting at a table in the middle.

I couldn’t help wondering where the Tuesday night strippers did their work.

“Where are the other people?” I whispered to my cousins.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Ava asked as she ushered me to a booth.

“There were about ten cars and a few motorcycles, but there aren’t that many people here.”