Grace Cries Uncle Read Online Free PDF Page A

five—but the room’s chill began to make me shiver. I got to my feet and inspected the bandages on the insides of both my elbows before pulling my sleeves back down to my wrists.
    Their responsibilities complete, the doctors released us. The lawyers crowded close, conferring among themselves and taking turns to shake our hands and express hope for positive results.
    In the midst of this, Bennett turned to me, taking my hands. His were warm and steady. His eyes were, too.
    â€œWhatever the outcome, Grace,” he began, effectively silencing the cheerful chatter, “whatever these tests confirm or dispute, you are my family and you always will be.”
    It was as though we were the only two people in the room. He continued to stare down at me and I got the impression he was trying to convey more than he had words for.
    â€œI know,” I said softly. Heat gathered behind my eyes and in the back of my throat.
    â€œNo matter what,” Bennett said very quietly.
    I nodded. “No matter what.”
    Lifting his gaze to encompass those surrounding us, he let go of my hands and said, “Did you all hear that?”
    Maggie answered. “We did.”
    â€œBennett,” I said, keeping my voice low, “you know I didn’t agree to the test for any reason other than to keep you happy.”
    He continued to speak loud enough for everyone to hear. “And what will make me happiest of all is to make you my heir.”
    â€œNo, Bennett, no,” I said, tugging at his arm. “You know that’s not what this is about.”
    â€œI know that, Gracie. This is about family.”
    One of the men in back wagged a finger. “It will be so much more straightforward, so much easier for us to rewrite your will if DNA tests prove kinship. Who knows what sort of challenges we may encounter if you bequeath your estate to a young woman who is not related by blood.”
    Bennett offered the man a cool smile. “I certainly hope for proof,” he said. “But I don’t pay you for easy.”

Chapter 4

    Bennett’s driver had dropped him off at the lab, leaving Tooney responsible to return us both to our respective homes. “You see how little blood they took?” I asked, when we were all bundled up and tucked into the Enclave. “I would have been perfectly fine driving myself.”
    Tooney had started the car, but was waiting for the frosty windshield to clear. “I didn’t mind,” he said.
    Bennett leaned forward from the backseat. “Then how could I have possibly convinced you both to join me for lunch afterward?”
    Tooney half turned to face him. “Both? You mean me, too?”
    â€œYes, Mr. Tooney, I feel like celebrating. What do you say, Gracie?” He winked at me. “I promise to have you back before your FBI friend returns at five. You promise to call Maggie when he shows up, won’t you?”
    â€œI will,” I said.
    Bennett tapped the back of Tooney’s seat. “Let’s have lunch at Octave. You know how to get there?”
    Tooney’s face went slack. “I’m wearing blue jeans,” he said. “They’re not even new ones.”
    Settling against the backseat, Bennett waved him off. “You’ll be fine.”
    *   *   *
    Bennett was right. Octave’s maître d’ welcomed us warmly, making no comment about Tooney’s faded jeans, nor his high-top black gym shoes. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the host’s ever-so-brief glance at our private eye friend, I might have believed he hadn’t noticed Tooney’s casual attire at all.
    About half the restaurant’s tables were occupied and the maître d’ chose a winding path through the sea of white linen, crystal, and subdued conversation. An older man glanced up as we passed, did a double take, then shot to his feet. He tossed his napkin aside and made his way toward us. “Bennett