So Sweet a Changeling: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 6)

Chapter Ten: Rachel, Sunday

Lauren didn't know it, but while she was texting Rachel, Rachel was in the passenger seat of a Modo car heading to the Anderson House. That was what it was called now, the two words capitalized and on a discreet sign on a post beside the front staircase, in gold lettering on a dark green field with a gold rim, with a short history of the woman who lived there in smaller letters below the name of the house. When Mrs. Anderson passed away, the New Westminster Historical Society was granted the deed to the house for use as a museum, and the Society's volunteers maintained the house and the landscaping around it, keeping it as close to how it originally was as possible, or at least how it was when Rachel spent her days here. The furniture was original, even the TV. The piano was still there, as was the room full of Mrs. Anderson's dolls. The Society collected donations at the front door of the house for upkeep, but otherwise raised no other revenue; the place was meant to be for all to visit and explore the history of Queensborough as told by displays throughout the house.

She brought Al and Emma with her, because Emma had never been and Rachel wanted to show her how it was when she grew up here. Logan had no interest in coming, so they left him at home with the promise (threat?) to have a good long talk about what his holding hands with Harpreet Parhar meant for the cohesion of their little group.

She wasn't a fool, and she didn't need Lauren's confirmation that a talk needed to be had with the boy. She knew Logan, and though he might have been a bit of a punk when he and his sister first came to foster with them, he'd grown and matured since then, mainly due to Joe and his efforts in shaping the young man. She knew he was good, that he'd consented many times to looking after the younger kids with no complaints while they'd been out, either socially or on LSDC business. She knew he loved his sister and would protect her with his life. She knew he appreciated his sister's relationship with Naomi, and maybe that was why he couldn't requite Naomi's infatuation with him, because he didn't want to jeopardize Emma's relationship with her. She knew Logan's intentions where either of the girls were concerned were respectful, that he wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone. The hand holding with Harpreet might have just been an innocent gesture of interest and nothing more.

She also knew that, being older than the girls, he could move much faster than they could, sexually, and he might not even realize that they wouldn't be able to match his pace, not yet, and that was what she had to make clear to him, that it would be so easy to hurt them if he wasn't careful.

The girls were not aware of this, but Logan wasn't a virgin, and it wasn't that his experience made him damaged goods, but it did make him experienced, and Rachel knew for certain the girls had no such experience. That experience might make him desirable in their eyes, someone who would know what to do and lead them through it, but it might burn them too, and Logan wouldn't be able to tell the difference, and that was where the danger lay.

Marjorie Wilson met them at the front door. Rachel had asked to meet her here today, because she had questions, and she hoped the president of the Society had answers.

"How lovely to see you again!" she said, giving Rachel a hug that was warm and maybe too lingering. Rachel's efforts in executing Mrs. Anderson's will in the Society's favour had made Marjorie a friend for life, even though Rachel had just been doing what she'd been mandated to do by law. 

She hugged Al, too, and when she saw Emma she said, "And who is this? I don't think I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance."

"I'm Emma," she said, offering her hand like a grown-up. 

Marjorie shook it and asked, "And how are you connected to these two?"

"They adopted me last year, me and my brother Logan, but he's not here today."