Read Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 for Free Online Page A

and gesturing wildly, and Mallory was nodding like she totally agreed with everything she said. As they approached I reached out to get Mallory’s attention, but she shook her head like, not here . Funny how I was able to read so much into that one gesture. I would have felt like she was giving me the brush-off if not for what she did next. She winked at me, and then grinned. It was fast, over in a split second. I was the only one who saw it, which made it kind of cool.
    I started almost obsessively checking my phone for the directions to the meeting place once I got home. I got a few other texts, but nothing from Mallory. I went from thinking I wasn’t going to meet her secret group at the secret place, to being afraid she wasn’t going to follow through. What if my reluctance kept me out of the group? Wouldn’t that be a hell of a thing?
    Dinner with my folks that evening consisted of meatloaf and a salad. I poured a lot of ketchup on the meatloaf to offset the dryness, and when I looked up I caught my parents exchanging an amused look. “Meatloaf not to your liking, Russ?” my dad asked.
    “Nope, it’s fine,” I said.
    My mom changed the subject. “Did I tell you Frank is spending the weekend here?”
    Inwardly I groaned. This was very bad news. Frank was my sister Carly’s son. My nephew. His full name was Frank Shrapnel Becker, if you can believe it. My sister wanted to give him a tough guy name. This was during her biker chick phase. The phase passed, but the poor kid was saddled with the name Frank Shrapnel forever. Unbelievable. Comparatively speaking, my middle name “David,” which was kind of boring, was preferable.
    Frank spent so much time at our house it was like we shared custody. He was really cute when he was little. Back then my mom did most of the caretaking. Now that he was ten, he’d latched onto me, following me around the house talking nonstop and asking a million questions. Sometimes it was cool. The kid was pretty good at video games and sometimes I was up for that. Lately not so much.
    “No, you didn’t tell me that,” I said. “What’s the story?”
    “What do you mean, what’s the story?”
    “Why is he coming over?”
    My mom gave me a slight frown. “He’s our grandson. Does there have to be a reason?”
    “Carly is going to some enlightenment workshop,” my dad said. “Her new boyfriend is some new age guru.”
    I took a sip of my milk. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to be entertaining him. I have a lot of plans for the weekend.” Or at least I would have plans, now that I knew.
    “Don’t be that way, Russ,” Mom said. “He adores you. All he wants is a little attention. Is that asking too much?”
    “His mother should be the one paying attention,” I said. “She can’t wait to get rid of him.”
    My mom looked like I’d slapped her, and I immediately regretted saying it. Carly was a crappy mother, but it wasn’t my parents’ fault. They’d set a good example. She just chose not to follow it.
    “Regardless,” Dad said. “Frank shouldn’t be punished for her lack of maternal instincts. Mom and I are going to take him to a movie and to the mall, but we can’t keep him occupied the whole time. We’d like your help.”
    “We really do appreciate it,” Mom added. I believed her. They did appreciate my help. It was my flaky sister who expected everything and appreciated nothing. When Frank was a baby, she dumped him at our house every chance she could. It got to be less as the years went on, but he still spent a fair share of his time here.
    “Okay,” I said. “I’ll hang out with the kid.”
    After dinner I cleared the table for my mom, then went upstairs for the night. I checked my phone constantly. Just after eight, when I’d almost given up hope, I was rewarded with a text from Mallory. She said: “Important meet-up at midnight behind the ball bearing factory. 276 Industry Drive. See you there.”
    Now that I got the message, I started