Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(169)

“Look at you, Danny. No more Nantrashbasket or Marsh Vegas for you. Moving on up to Deluxebury.”

He grunted, shaking his head, fighting a smile.

I laughed. “Deluxebury. That’s hilarious.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Dan leaned close to me, like he was telling me a secret, but kept his eyes on his sister and whispered loudly, “I once told her she could borrow my pink vibrator and she had a field day.”

Mary smacked him in the arm.

Everyone laughed.

Again.

The best.

Over the course of the afternoon, we drifted from the kitchen to the dining room to the deck. There was always someone new to meet, always a new story about Dan growing up.

A Red Sox game was on in the family room, and a radio broadcasted the game in the backyard, providing background noise and a soundtrack for the party. At intervals, everyone—it seemed—would either cheer or groan, depending on who got a hit, who was safe, or who was out.

Most of the people present were relatives, some were neighbors, some were work friends of Eleanor’s, and everyone brought something.

Even Uncle Eugene brought something when he showed up late in the afternoon, a cottage cheese pie, which was my favorite.

“Thank you.” I accepted the pie while Dan sent me a look that said be nice over Eugene’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome.” His eyes moved over me, as though making a mental list or tally. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” I gave him a hard look and decided it was time to set him straight. “You can’t lie to me anymore.”

Nodding thoughtfully, he leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms; he was the only person in a suit and stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone else was wearing Red Sox or Patriots apparel, jeans, and sneakers.

“Okay,” he finally conceded. “I won’t.”

“I need to be able to trust you because I am going to need your help. I want my voting shares back immediately.”

He continued to study me. “You think you’re ready?”

“I have to be.” I stepped closer to him. “Caleb has been sabotaging Caravel for two years, maybe longer. I have to save it.”

Eugene looked surprised, and a little doubtful, so I looked to Dan and motioned for him to come over.

He did, glancing between us. “What’s up?”

“We need to fill him in.”

Dan seemed mildly surprised, but nodded. “Okay. You want me to find Janie?”

“Who’s Janie?”

I touched Eugene’s elbow and tilted my head toward the kitchen exit. “She’s a friend of mine who figured out in three days what no one else has been able to piece together in three years. Come on, Dan will get her.”

I guided him to the study, stopping along the way to greet people and introduce him. For simplicity’s sake, I called him “my Uncle Eugene.” Everyone seemed to accept this, and with acceptance came hugs and “welcome to the family” and questions about his team loyalty.

Dan’s Uncle Zip looked him over, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, and said, “You look like you’re a Yankees fan. Are you a Yankees fan?”

Eugene responded with a succinct, “Go Sox,” and Zip let him pass.

Janie and Dan were already in the study when we arrived, and my friend wasted no time filling in Eugene on what she’d uncovered from the division financial reports. He listened attentively, grimacing when I filled in the rest of the blanks about Caleb’s self-dealing, but interrupted me when I suggested that we should pursue a shareholder lawsuit.

“No. This is illegal. He’s stealing trade secrets, disallowed by the Uniform Trade Secrets Act. What he’s doing constitutes obtaining patents by improper means. He’ll go to jail.” Eugene stopped short of rubbing his hands together.

“So then, here’s the question,” I glanced between Eugene and Janie, “How do we make this information public with the least amount of damage to Caravel and without incriminating ourselves?”

My lawyer’s eyes grew impossibly shrewd. “You have a friend who’s a journalist, correct?”

“Yes. Marie Harris.”

“What does she know so far? About Caleb?”

I tried to remember where Marie had been the day prior and what—if anything—she’d heard. “Other than Dan being kidnapped, I don’t think she knows much about what happened yesterday. She stayed in the living room mostly.” Almost like she was doing her best to keep herself in the dark. “Before that, she and her boyfriend uncovered some information for us about Dr. Branson, but she doesn’t know that Dr. Branson’s research in the Caribbean was funded by Caleb. We never brought her in the loop on that.”