A Catered Mother's Day by Isis Crawford Page B

correct Marvin’s sliding through stop signs. In fact, he didn’t say anything to Marvin and Marvin didn’t say anything else to him. There was no point. One thing was for sure though. Sean was really, really pissed.
    Once he and Marvin arrived at the motel, it took Sean another twenty minutes to persuade the powers-that-be to release his daughters into his custody. He was only glad that his archenemy Lucas Broadbent, aka Lucy, chief of the Longely police, wasn’t there to gloat.
    â€œDad,” Bernie began when she and Libby got out of the squad car, but Sean put up his hand.
    â€œDon’t say anything,” he instructed his daughters as they followed him and Marvin back to their van. “Not a word. I am not a happy man at this moment,” he added unnecessarily, that being fairly self-evident. He started walking toward the Kia as fast as he could manage while Marvin hung back.
    â€œAre you okay?” he asked Libby.
    Sean stopped and turned around. “She’s fine, Marvin. You two can talk later,” he rapped out. “Right now you need to get me home.”
    Libby almost said, “I’m not fifteen, Dad,” but she had the good sense not to. Instead she motioned for Marvin to go with her dad. “I’ll call you,” she mouthed.
    â€œMake it soon,” Marvin mouthed back. “I miss you and so does Hilda.”
    â€œAnd I miss you guys,” Libby said.
    Sean turned to Marvin. “Enough of that nonsense. Come on. I’m tired and I want to get to bed.”
    Marvin blew Libby a kiss and hurried after Sean.
    â€œBoy, Dad’s not happy,” Bernie observed when she and Libby got into the van. “I haven’t seen him this pissed in a long time.”
    â€œNot since you totaled the Blazer, to be exact. I told you,” Libby said to Bernie once she had started Mathilda up. “I told you nothing good could come of this.”
    Bernie rubbed her ankle. It was even more swollen than it had been. Walking on it probably hadn’t helped. “And you were right. Does that make you feel better?”
    Libby shook her head. “Not even remotely.”
    Bernie rested her ankle on the dashboard. At least that would help ease some of the pressure. “Too bad Bruce called the cops.”
    â€œCan you blame him? What would you have done?” Libby asked her sister.
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe call us,” Bernie answered.
    â€œHave you thought that Bruce knew the note was fake? Has that occurred to you? Maybe he called the cops because he wanted to teach Ellen a lesson.”
    Bernie sighed. “Well, she certainly got one, that’s for sure.” Then she changed the subject. “How mad do you think Dad is?”
    â€œOn a scale of one to ten, one being the lowest and ten the highest, I’d give him between an eight and a nine,” Libby answered. “He’s still talking to us.”
    â€œKinda.”
    â€œIt’s better than the ‘silence of death.’ ” That was when Sean didn’t speak to anyone for days.
    The only good thing, as Bernie remarked, was that Sean got over things pretty quickly. Most of the time. The sisters just hoped that this was one of those times.

Chapter 9
    S ean didn’t say anything when he and his daughters went upstairs. He didn’t say anything when Libby went to get Bernie an ice pack and she and Bernie something to eat. He didn’t say anything until after his daughters sat down on the sofa and Bernie put her foot up on the coffee table and draped the package of frozen peas over it.
    â€œFeel better?” he asked Bernie.
    â€œYes, thank you.”
    Sean gave a curt nod. “Good.”
    â€œCan I get you anything?” Libby asked her dad. “A brownie? There are a couple of pieces of rhubarb pie left.”
    Sean shook his head. “No. Nothing.”
    â€œCoffee?”
    Sean glared. “I said nothing.”
    Libby shrugged.