“What was the trouble?” Bea took her seat and accepted the bowl of peas Red passed her. She spooned some on her plate, still watching Jo. “Nothing serious, I hope?”
“I don’t think so.” Jo took a slice of bread. “A patron left our place, somehow managed to drink until he was intoxicated somewhere else, then drove into the side of a building.”
“The Peckinpaugh house.” Red nodded. “Heard about that this morning when I went into the feed store. J. J. Effingham was drunk as a lord when they got on scene. Though that might have been what saved him, since he was so relaxed when he crashed. His body didn’t have a chance to tense up. A relaxed body doesn’t get hurt as badly as a tense one.”
“But nobody was seriously injured?” Peyton asked.
“No. Only now …” Jo glanced down at her plate as if trying to debate how far to go. Then she shrugged and reached for her glass to hold out to Trace. “Now he’s claiming I’m the one who gave him the alcohol. The implication is that I plied him with drinks until he didn’t realize how drunk he was, and then I made him feel like he had to drive home by not getting him a cab.”
“What a jerk!” Bea held her own glass out for wine. “Thanks, bro. That sneaky bastard. What’s the kid’s name again? We should send Trace and Red out there to beat him up.”
“What is this, West Side Story?” Red laughed. “You can’t just send us out like thugs whenever you’re mad at someone, Bea.”
She huffed. “What’s the point of brothers—pseudo-brothers included—if they won’t play muscle for you?”
“Poor thing,” Peyton whined sarcastically. “The world is against you.”
Bea turned her shoulder to Peyton and stared directly at Jo. “The police understand your side of things, right?”
“Well …”
Trace felt the stirrings of something cold in his blood. “This isn’t causing trouble, is it?”
Jo sighed. “No. I’m handling it. Nothing a few receipts and some witnesses can’t fix.”
“I know the Effinghams a little,” Peyton said, staring at her glass for a moment. “Not well, of course. God knows I wouldn’t be running in the same circle as the parents, and J. J. was too young for me to be in school with. But they’re all over the town. On every committee or board that pops up.”
“Sounds like they could cause some trouble,” Trace said easily, though he wanted to wring the kid’s neck.
“They’re the kind of parents who think their kid can do no wrong. Or, if they see the wrong, they’ll step in to minimize the damage to save face.” Peyton shrugged. “Appearances, you know. She might have gotten along with mama, if Sylvia wasn’t a drunk. Same theory on the appearance bit.”
There was silence around the table. Mentioning their mother in such a casual way was a new thing for them all. Then Red spoke. “If you need something, Jo, let us know.”
“Thanks.” She smiled widely. “So, Bea, what’s going on this week in the land of the soaps?”
Bea launched into her favorite topic—other than herself—and kept the conversation moving at an easy pace with funny quips about evil twins, faked suicides, and hidden jewels. But it was minutes before Jo relaxed. Trace reached under the table and found her knee, squeezing lightly in a reassuring gesture. Her leg inched toward his, brushing lightly against him.
He resisted the urge to pull that caveman stunt Peyton had accused Red of not ten minutes earlier.
But it was a near thing.
Jo resisted the urge to lick the dessert plate. Instead, she scooted the plate toward the center of the table. “That was amazing. Emma is a genius.”
“Which she never lets us forget.” Peyton winked. “Ask anyone. Emma runs this place, hands down. We couldn’t function without her.”
“Wouldn’t want to,” Trace put in. “She practically raised us. And we weren’t an easy trio.”
“Speak for yourself. I, for one, was an angel.” Bea batted her lashes.
Peyton coughed into her napkin, “Bullshit.”
The angelic moment was shattered when Bea shot her sister two middle fingers.
“Ah, sibling love.” Jo sighed and rested her elbows on the table. “I never got to experience this. How about you, Red?”
“Nope. Only child here, too. Gotta say, walking into this family was an eye-opener.”
Peyton elbowed him. “A good one, right?”
Red exaggerated a wince that made Jo smile. “Of course, sweetheart. A great one. A brilliant eye-opener.”