Keeper's Justice
Copyright© 2025 by Charly Young
Chapter 5: Quinn
After Quinn knocked on the door of Elisabeth’s carriage house, two boys, each wearing headsets around their necks, answered his knock.
“Hey, Jeffery. How you doing, Elron?”
“Hi, Mr. Quinn. Come on in. They’re in the other room,” Jeffery said with a grimace. “Singing. Been doing it all day.”
“How come you aren’t in there with ‘em?” Quinn asked.
“We got a job. Video games.” He grinned. “Mr. Anderson sent down some for me and El to test. Said he’d pay us and everything!”
“Most excellent,” Quinn said and presented his fist for the boys to bump. Jeffery had come a long way from the skinny slave boy Niamh had rescued.
“Hey guys, since the girls got to go to the concert, how would you like to go camping sometime? Eastern Washington or maybe Montana, and do some fishing? Every boy ought to know how to fish.”
Jeffery’s eyes got big. “Really? You mean it?”
“Yup. Just the three of us and maybe Gus. We’ll have us an adventure.”
He looked at Elron, who was nodding enthusiastically.
“Y ... Yes, sir. We’d love that.”
“Well, I’ll ask your moms and see if we can set it up.”
“Everybody’s in the library, Mr. Quinn.”
“Thanks, guys.”
The two boys went into the other room, whispering excitedly.
“Honey, I’m home,” Quinn yelled out. He set the bags full of pints of ice cream on a hallway table.
With ear-piercing squeals, two little girls came running out of Elisabeth’s kitchen and jumped into his arms.
“Oof, you guys are getting big.”
“Uncle Lan, are you sayin’ we’re fat?”
“Course not, munchkin. But now that you mention it...”
They both giggled. He set them down, picked up the bags of ice cream, and followed them into the library.
“We’re making friendship bracelets. You should see how many we got at the concert.”
“We Swifties like to exchange ‘em.”
“Yeah, we’re Swifties now.”
“I guess so. I heard you singing clear out on the street.”
“Uncle Lan, thank you so much for the tickets. We had a fun time. Everybody sang all the way home from the concert, even Wraith and Niamh.”
They finally stopped chattering, so Quinn could see who else was there. Elisabeth sat at the end of the table, which was covered with plastic boxes full of different colors and shapes of beads. Katie frowned at him. No surprise there. He loftily ignored Miss Grumpy Pants.
Elisabeth’s sisters, Emily and Cassandra, were measuring out lengths of brightly colored cord.
They all stared at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked suspiciously. “Why are you all staring at me?”
Wraith came out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine and snacks.
“Oh good, you finally shaved off that disgusting beard and got a haircut?”
“Very funny. I got ambushed when I had to take the dog here to get groomed.”
The girls, by this time, were down on their hands and knees, petting the yellow dog, whose tail was wagging rapidly.
“What’s her name, Uncle Lan?”
“Uh, no idea, Charlie. I just call her the yellow dog.”
Charlie slowly turned and blinked her giant blue eyes at him. “Uncle Lan, yellow dog is a terrible name,” she said.
Katherine and Emily started laughing.
“Her name is Molly,” Katrinka said firmly. “Anyone could tell just by looking at her. Molly McGillicuddy.”
The dog licked her face. Apparently, she liked her new name.
“Okay, then I guess that’s her name, all right. Thanks for telling me.”
“What is in the bags, Lan?” Wraith’s nose was twitching.
“Just some old ice cream I picked up from a dumpster behind Salt and Straw. I thought I’d leave a pint with you guys, in case you wanted some.”
He grinned at the outraged look on Wraith’s face. She and her sister Saria were serious ice cream-a-holics. Saria especially had been ever since Quinn had brought her across from Oldtown.
Elisabeth snatched the bags out of his hands. “Just ignore him. He thinks he’s funny; he should stick to pounding nails. Get spoons. Hurry, girls, get spoons for everybody, except for Uncle Lan. Smarty-pantses don’t get treats.” She yelled out, “Hey, Jeffery and Elron, come and get some ice cream!”
She started stacking pints on the table to squeals of delight as all the different flavors emerged.
Charlie came out of the kitchen with bowls and spoons as the boys came running.
“Hey, Em,” Quinn said quietly, “got a minute? I need some lawyerly advice.”
“Sure, Lan. Let’s go into the kitchen. We can talk there. The ice cream should keep this lot busy.”
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