Page 18 of The Nanny Contract
Tension lingered in the air outside the police station.
Helen’s lips pursed again as Robert tugged at her arm to pull her back toward their car.
“We’ll see, Logan,” she said with a disapproving frown as she walked away. “We’ll see.”
Minutes later, we were back at Westbrook Meadows.
Betsy greeted us at the bottom of the stairs, clearly fuming.
This was not going to be pretty. She’d probably already heard the entire story, likely through her many connections around town.
I had no idea how my mother was always able to obtain and process information so quickly. It was as if she had a network of people on call for her at all times, always available to clue her in.
Part of me wondered if her high-powered connections with local officials were in any way influenced by information. Or perhaps more specifically, compromising information.
I had nothing to base my speculation on, but I did know one thing for sure: when Betsy Westbrook wanted something done around Charleston, South Carolina, she always knew exactly who to call.
As she approached the car, I could see the fury in her eyes. She’d probably been worried sick about Henry the entire time I was gone. And I knew for a fact that she was going to be unhappy about my interaction with the Mercers.
I barely had time to process her presence before she looked us up and down and demanded answers.
She shook her head. “Henry Michael Westbrook.”
She only used his full name when it was really bad.
Next, she turned to me. “Logan, why on earth did you ignore Casey’s warnings about the car?”
Wait, how does she know about that?
Jesus, my mother learned about everything.
She turned back to Henry. “And Henry, did you honestly tell me it was a quiet, underpowered family sedan?”
Henry stammered, his eyes darting around. “Well… I thought you might not buy it for me if you knew it was so fast. So, I… might have left that part out.”
Betsy walked over to me, so close that I could smell her perfume.
“Logan, how could you not take Casey seriously? You know how boys are when they get behind the wheel of a car like that.”
I felt a hint of defensiveness, but I knew she had a point.
“I should have looked into it more,” I admitted.
I glanced at Casey who gave me a sweet smile. He had obviously only been trying to help. My gratitude was silent, but I knew that this would unlock a new level of respect between us.
Betsy pulled Henry close. “Henry, the Westbrook name comes with privileges. But it also comes with responsibilities. If you can’t be honest with me, how can I trust you?”
Henry nodded, evidently visibly humbled.
“As for the car—” she began, but Henry cut in.
“Let me guess,” he said with a sigh, “you’re taking it back?”
Mother shook her head and winked at him. “No dear, I’m not taking it back. I’m taking it for myself. I like a little bit of speed sometimes.”
Unpredictable, as usual.
She held out her hand, palm up. “Keys, please.”