by Tegan Maher
It only took him a minute to confirm she hadn't shown for her shift last night and he frowned.
I tapped my foot, about to my breaking point. "Now can we go to her place?"
"No. Now you can go home. I'll go to her house and check on her." He stood and opened the door to his office, an obvious hint for me to leave.
"Hunter ... I'm sorry you found out about me the way you did. I was hoping to get to know you a bit and tell you when we were both ready, but that's not how it panned out. You're a real knot-head, and you're kinda riding roughshod right now because you're in a new arena, but aside from that, I like what I know about you and would like to get to know you better."
His jaw twitched in the way I'd learned to associate with irritation, but I think part of it was that he liked me, too. I know I wasn't the only one to feel that spark between us the day we went for the ride, or when we cooked out before that.
"I just can't do it right now, Noelle. That's a huge chunk of information for a person to process, and I just don't think I can do it. I'm sorry."
I hung my head and stood to leave. "I'm sorry, too."
Peggy Sue was back to work and stopped me before I passed her desk. "You're a good person, Noelle, and he knows that. He likes you. Just give him some time."
I nodded, but didn't trust myself to speak.
I thought about what she said as I headed back to the farm. I knew she was right, but part of me just wanted to say to heck with it. Though if he decided he could live with the telepathy, the rest of it would be a breeze. After all, knowing somebody can read your mind but trusting them not to do so opens a pretty big door.
Shelby's car wasn't there when I got home and I found a note on the kitchen table letting me know she was at the clinic helping Cody and Will. That was good for her; she was considering a career as a vet, so a little hands-on experience might help her decide.
I kicked off my heels and headed to my room to lose the dress and pantyhose. Once I'd traded them for gym shorts and a tank, I pulled out the ingredients for a seven-layer cake. I decided to go with one of Shelby's favorites; chocolate cake and peanut butter frosting.
I decided to whip up some homemade peanut butter cups to decorate it with while it was baking—nothing like losing yourself in details to take your mind off your troubles.
Aunt Adelaide popped in while I was mixing the cake batter and asked how the funeral had gone. She’d decided not to go since she couldn’t stand him in life and wasn’t obligated to pay her respects to anybody now that she was dead. I filled her in on everything that had happened.
"Wow. Well, I gotta say, the girl did always have that streak in her. Mama always said not to get on the bad side of a gypsy. They live by their own rules and have their own ideas about right and wrong."
"So is there any way to follow up on this guy?"
"If there is, I haven't thought of it. I haven't had a lot of time to think about it, you know, with Cheri Lynn being dead and admitting to killing Hank and all."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Don't sass me, young lady. I know you've had a long day, but you need to find him before he comes after you."
She was right, but I had no idea where to start. I decided to contact Mr. Wilkerson to see if maybe he'd remembered the guy's name.
I'd just finished creaming the butter and peanut butter for the peanut butter cups when Cheri Lynn popped in. I don't know who was more startled—me when she arrived, or her when she saw Adelaide.
"Ms. Adelaide! But ... you're dead."
Aunt Adelaide raised a brow. "I guess that gives us something in common, then."
She wrinkled her nose. "Oh yeah. Right. Anyway, I popped to my place and waited on that sheriff to get there, and you're not going to believe it—my body was gone! Along with my clothes. And that's not all—there were belladonna berries in my fridge."
I dropped my wooden spoon. "Say what? Your body couldn't just be gone."
"I know, right? Now I'm a lot of things, but stupid's not one of them. Once I baked that pie, I made sure all the berries were gone. Bebee made her garden so that you have to know the exact entry spot. Otherwise, it just looks like a big patch of briers from the outside. When she was alive she had it warded, but since I'm not good with herbs, I didn't bother settin' another one when she passed."
Adelaide was shaking her head. "This isn't good, girls. Somebody's cleaning up their mess. They made it look like Cheri Lynn killed Hank and then took off. They tied it all up in a neat little bow."
"So?"
"So why bother setting her up for Hank's death? They could have gotten rid of her body, which they obviously did, then just let everybody assume she left town. There might have been speculation, but nobody would have ever known for sure unless they found Tryphena's garden."
She was right. It didn't make sense.
My phone dinged with an incoming text. It was Mr. Wilkerson, returning my text from earlier. He apologized but said he still didn't remember the name.
Cheri Lynn and Adelaide hovered over my shoulder and read the text with me. Both of them started nagging me to call Hunter.
"Have you both forgotten that my name is now mud with him? Not only am I a freak who can read his mind and talk to him without moving my lips, but now I'm also Chicken Little. I told him I thought something had happened to Cheri Lynn when all he found was proof she left town."
"Well, to be fair, the first part is his problem. And something did happen to me—he just doesn't know the truth. Neither of those changes the fact that you were right."
"He has a history of not wanting to see the truth unless he's the one who finds it, especially if I'm the one pointing it out."
Aunt Adelaide sighed. "Pride goeth before the fall."
"Yeah," I muttered. "Let's just hope it's not my fall."
Still, I pulled up his number, steeled myself, and hit call. It rang four times and I thought it was going to go to voicemail, but he answered.
"What, Noelle? Do you have another theory, or has somebody else killed someone, then packed up and left town?"
"Look. I'm sorry I called. I get that you're freaked out, but you're also being a real jerk. I called because I'm actually worried about myself and Shelby this time. I have a bad feeling about the guy who was trying to round up investors for this place. Did you find any permit applications or anything?"
"Why are you worried? Have you heard from him, or caught anybody out on the property?"
I wanted to scream, “No, I hadn't heard from him, but my ghostly friend overheard him talking about my place before he followed her home, murdered her, then hid her body.” Yeah, I should just tell him that.
"No, but it worries me that he had papers drawn up and had applied for permits."
"I checked, Noelle. There are no permits pending to do anything on your place. As a matter of fact, the last time one was even requested was when your aunt replaced some of the gas lines. I'm sure it was probably just a scam artist. If you hear anything else, let me know."
He hung up without saying goodbye.
I finished making the peanut butter cups, but my heart wasn't in it. The oven timer dinged at the same time my phone did. I pulled the cakes out, then checked my phone, hoping it was Hunter. It wasn't—it was Mr. Wilkerson again.
W: Was just thinking. My wife took pics at the party. I'll go through when I get home and see if there are any of him or his wife.
N: That's so kind! Thank you.
Wife? He hadn’t mentioned a wife before.
Of course, Adelaide and Cheri Lynn were hovering right over my shoulder, reading the text.
I tried to elbow them back, but it's kind of hard to do when the people creeping on you are incorporeal. "Sheesh! What if it had been naked pics or something? Boundaries, y'all!"
Cheri Lynn laughed. "You gotta be kiddin’ me. He's not even speakin’ to you. I'm pretty sure nekkid pics aren't somethin’ we gotta worry about right now, or ever, unless I miss my guess. He's not the type and neither are you."
Sadly, she had a point. The closest I'd ever come to a naked pic was when I sent beach pictures to my college boyfriend. And even those had made me blush because of the bikini.
I really did need to get a life.
Chapter 30
A
n hour or so later, a silver Audi drove around the bend and up to the house. Shelby climbed out, along with Cody and Violet. I met them on the porch.
"Hey, guys! Come on in. What's up?"
Shelby and Cody bounded up the stairs, and Violet followed along behind.
"Shelby’s tire was flat when she went to leave the clinic,” Violet said. “She invited me over to see that new foal she's been telling us about. Plus, to be honest, I needed a change of scenery. I love working at the clinic but the last few days have been hellish, with all the Hank garbage coming to light. I'm glad it's over. As bad as I hate to say it, whoever killed him did this town a favor."
Cheri Lynn had followed me to the porch and puffed out her chest. "Tell her I said 'you're welcome.'"
I rolled my eyes at her, but decided to give her the victory. To say she'd had a rough few days would be the understatement of the year, and she was taking it all much better than I think I would have.
"Come on in. Would you like a glass of tea?"
"That would be great."
I led her to the kitchen, where Shelby had already found the cake and was slicing into it.
Violet sat down at the table and looked around. "Wow, I knew Ms. Adelaide had remodeled, but I haven't been here since she did. It looks great in here!"
"Thanks. This is my favorite room in the house. Cake?"
She nodded, and I cut us both a slice and joined her at the table. I asked her about the clinic and we talked animals for a little while.
"So, did you hear anything else from that real estate investor? I know you were worried about it."
"Nope. No such luck. Mr. Wilkerson said he may have some pictures of the man or his wife that were taken at the party. He’s going to check and send them to me."
"Well, if not, I'm sure he's probably moved on. A lot of big buyers keep an eye on properties like this and try to buy them when the owners pass because the kids would rather have the money than the property. They have to find the investors in order to come up with the initial capital, so they start scouting in advance. I wouldn't worry too much about it since you've made it clear you're not selling."
"I'm sure you're right." Oh, how I wished it were so!
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up. It's just that sometimes I really miss the business. I used to love buying and selling houses. Commercial stuff wasn't fun for me, but I loved showing a family a blank slate that they could carve into their own home."
"Oh, I get it, totally. When I was in college, I missed the horses and the farm so much I came home practically every weekend. I always knew this is what I wanted to do. I can't imagine giving it up."
We moved on to other topics and just chatted a bit, then went to the barn. I showed her the new foal, and Shelby, being the drama queen that she is, had to show off where she'd fallen.
"Wow! That's quite a fall! You're lucky," she said, then looked at her phone. "I need to get back to the clinic and help Will close up. I think Cody's going to fix Shelby's tire tomorrow so she'll have her car back. They'll work it out."
After she and Cody left, I called Raeann and brought her up to speed on the day. She'd skipped the funeral because it was her mom's birthday, so she was completely out of the loop.
I'd just finished supper dishes while Shelby did the outside chores. Cheri Lynn was floating around checking out our family pictures when she froze, then swept over so she was face to face with me.
"Noelle! That's the guy! Come see." She was pointing wildly in the direction of the mantle and I couldn't for the life of me think of a single picture on there that wasn't of direct family, and most of them were dead. The rest were of me, Shelby, and Raeann.
"What? Which one?"
"The guy with Raeann! That's the guy who was in Jim's office! That's the guy who kilt me!" She tried to pick up the picture but growled when she couldn't.
I scrambled to the mantle and picked up the picture she was pointing at. It was taken the day Raeann did that stupid bungee jump. She was standing beside Jake, flushed and grinning to beat the band.
"You're absolutely sure?"
"Uh yeah. Pretty sure,” she said, sarcasm dripping off her words. “A girl's not likely to forget the face of a guy who whacks her in the gourd with a shovel. Who is he? Why is he with Raeann? Last I talked to her, she wasn't seeing anybody."
"Yeah, they're pretty new. She met him at the bungee jump."
"You gotta call her. Right now. Make sure she's safe, then call that sheriff of yours. Make him find out who that guy really is."
"Just hold up for a minute." I needed time to think. It wouldn't do any good to go to Hunter now. I had zero cred with him. Think, think, think. I grabbed for my phone, nearly knocking it to the floor, and snapped a picture of the picture.
I pulled up Mr. Wilkenson's name and attached the picture, asking if that was the guy.
It took less than a minute for him to answer me back. Yes, it was him, and he also had a picture of him with his wife he would be sending from his wife's number.
While I was waiting, I called Raeann, but she didn't pick up. I sent her a simple 911 text and waited.
I also sent a psychic shout-out to Shelby and told her to get to the house immediately. She usually listens to music while she cleans stalls, so yelling for her the old-fashioned way wouldn't work.
Raeann still wasn't answering and I didn't know what else to do. I tried to call Hunter but he kept swiping me. I texted him and told him what was going on but he didn't reply. To be fair, all that I could really tell him was that Jake was the one who had spoken to the investor, so I guess in his mind that probably didn't rate a Code Red. My only other option was to tell him the guy killed Cheri Lynn, but brute honesty hadn't worked with him so far, plus there was no body.
Cheri Lynn was hovering and pacing as much as I was, except she wasn't wearing a path in the carpet. Adelaide was wringing her hands. None of us were used to doing nothing—we were all doers, and the lack of options was killing us. Okay, maybe that wasn't the best choice of words, but whatever.
My phone binged and I snatched it up, opening the text from a number with an Atlanta area code. It was a picture of a smiling Jake, and standing beside him was—
Cheri Lynn squealed in my ear. "Is that freakin’ Violet Newsome? The Violet Newsome that was just here?"
I felt like I'd stepped on a rake and taken the handle to the face. All this time, I'd been asking her about the mystery real estate guy and it had been her. Or at least her partner. And she'd just been on the property.
It occurred to me that Shelby hadn't answered me. We had an unbreakable code: texts, or in this case psychic phone calls, always get answered. If not, I know to panic. She's never broken it before, so the fact that she was then, when all the crap was hitting the fan, was enough to send me over the edge.
I bolted through the door and made tracks for the barn with Addy and Cheri Lynn right behind me. The wheelbarrow was sitting in the middle of the aisle and her blue manure rake was on the floor beside it. I yelled her name, but the only responses I got were anxious nickers. I heard something scrape on the concrete behind me and Addy hollered for me to watch out. I didn't have time to turn around before somebody grabbed me and jabbed a needle into my neck. Then I knew what fade to black really meant.
I REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS in stages. The first thing I noticed was that somebody was kicking my ankle and making weird noises. The second thing I noticed was that I was lying on a floor. My head was pounding, but when I went to feel the back of my head, I realized I was trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey.
I opened my eyes and saw my kitchen floor about two inches from my eye. Raeann was the one kicking me and trying to yell at me through her own ga
g. Shelby was tied up a couple of feet from me and still unconscious. The rotten-egg smell of gas was faint, but there.
I'd like to tell you I kept a cool head and immediately came up with a plan to save us using only the roach trap pushed underneath the cabinet in front of me, a paper clip, and some of the cake crumbs scattered on the floor, but that would be a lie.
I panicked. I've always had an irrational fear of constraint, probably from where Bobby Rae Casto held me down in the fifth grade and put his stupid pet tarantula on me. Regardless, when I realized my hands and feet were tied, I freaked out, struggling against the bindings.
Raeann kicked me again, this time harder, and brought me back to the present.
I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and almost gagged when I sucked in a lungful of gas; it was getting stronger. I concentrated on the rope. I tried to work my magic through the fibers so I could untie it, but my head was fuzzy and I couldn't focus. Instead, I turned and started kicking Shelby like Raeann had kicked me.
She started to come around, and I closed my eyes and tried to clear the fog. Scoot toward me an put your back against mine, I told Raeann, and she nodded. I sat up and pushed myself backward toward her. We met in the middle and began working on each other’s ropes. No luck. I spied the knife caddy sitting on the counter and pushed my back against hers, hoping she understood what I was trying to do and pushed back. I could float one toward us, but as fuzzy as I was, I was just as likely to drop it mid-air and stab one of us as I was to get it to where we could use it.
Luckily, we'd played so many field-day games together throughout school that we were pretty synched and we pushed against each other until we were both standing.
It struck me as funny that it was quite possibly going to be the stuff I learned during field day that saved my life rather than magic or any the techniques I picked up in my criminal justice courses in college.
I clumsily hopped to the counter, teetering to the point of catastrophe several times because my ankles were tied together. I wasn't the most graceful on the best of days, so give me a concussion and limited use of my feet and I was definitely off my game. I scanned the surface for anything that would help, but everything remotely sharp was in the block, shoved too far back to reach.