. . and how sad is that.” Leah mumbled the last part but knew it came out louder than intended when the guy sitting alone in the booth behind Mallory chuckled. With a glare and a lowered voice, Leah continued. “Charlie Hanover’s boys have come to town to claim their grandmother’s estate.”
“By boys you mean men, right?”
“I guess.”
“That strikes me as a key piece of information.”
“They’re all around thirty.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Whatever. Their ages don’t really matter.”
“Not so fast.” Mallory’s eyes gleamed with what looked like excitement. “Any idea what these guys look like?”
Oh, no. Once they started the whole hot-guy conversation, common sense would pack for vacation. Leah slammed the brakes on before that could happen. “They’re Charlie’s sons.”
“Okay, and . . . ?”
So much for braking. “I thought that explanation said it all.”
“He’s a bad guy. Got it.” Mallory waved her fork in the air. “But I’ve seen your files and Charlie was a good-looking man. You know, if you like guys in their forties. I’m betting his sons are hot.”
“Charlie was fifty-six when he died.” Leah had a whiteboard at her house with every bit of information on him she’d collected. The guy had three birth certificates, five wives and three sons, but only one real birth date. For Leah, being a homegrown child of Sweetwater, that bit of information—unlike anything else about Charlie—had been easy to find.
Mallory performed one of her patented eye rolls, the type guaranteed to give a lesser woman a throbbing headache. “I think you’re missing my point on the good-looking-man thing, likely on purpose since you’re obsessed with Charlie and all, but there are other men in the world. Ones worth thinking about.”
Leah fell back against the booth and ignored the squeak as the seat threatened to fall apart. “Enlighten me.”
“We single women need to keep the radar on and stay aware of any male that moves within a fifty-mile zone.”
It was easier to agree, so Leah did. “I get that.”
“Then I’d remind you Sweetwater has a population of about a thousand people, and the number of available males worth fantasizing about in this area of Oregon is, like, less than twenty.”
Since Mallory looked ready to name them all while she counted on her fingers, Leah jumped in. “Closer to the single digits, but let’s go with your calculations to keep from crying ourselves to sleep. So?”
“So.” Mallory leaned in as if sharing some deep woman secret over the soft clatter of silverware and mumble of conversation from other tables. “We should celebrate any men—those related to Charlie and those not—who move to town. Hell, I’d settle for a mature nineteen-year-old at this point, which is pathetic since I’m barely hanging on to my twenties.”
Now look who’s missing the point. “You’re twenty-six.”
“Exactly. Late twenties.”
No way was Leah touching that one. “These guys are the sons of a notorious con man.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Charlie Hanover stole from this town and most of the families in it.”
“Including yours, yeah, I know. I’ve heard this story about a million times.”
The memories of her parents’ fights rushed up on Leah and she pushed them back down. “After Charlie sucked all the money and goodwill out of Sweetwater, he moved on to other towns. Other victims. I’m betting the Hanover boys are just like their father. Handsome, charming and downright dangerous.”
“Is that last part on the pro or con list of their attributes?”
Mallory had heard the history but she didn’t get it. Leah doubted anyone who hadn’t lived through Charlie’s destruction could truly get it. “They can’t be trusted.”
“I want to look them over, not go engagement-ring shopping. Call it curiosity.” Mallory glanced at Leah’s purse. “Don’t you have a photo or two of the sons in that stack of Charlie information you carry around?”
“No, which ticks me off. These three have managed to stay outside of law enforcement’s notice. Other than old yearbook photos and that sort of thing, I’m in the dark.”
Mallory’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow, complete with tiny earring, arched. “How dare they go off and have private lives?”
Leah couldn’t help smiling. “You think I’m losing it.”
“When it comes to the Hanover family, the word is lost, babe. As in past tense.” Mallory stole another chip and munched on it.
Leah added that to the list of comments she intended to ignore today and circled back to her point. “According to the records I do have, Charlie’s mother put a mortgage on the place and failed to pay it during the last year. The Hanover