by Julie Chase
“I was a mess the morning we met. Do you remember?” Her flashlight beam danced over racks and walls. “My scheduled pickup at your parents’ home was horrible timing. I didn’t want to see any of Wallace’s friends. I didn’t know who he’d told about his suspicions of me, but I had to go on as if nothing had changed. When I saw your car in the drive, I thought it was a detective come to tell Dr. Crocker the news or to arrest me when I arrived.” She stopped moving. “I was having the second most horrific day of my life, and you bounced down the driveway like little bluebirds followed you through life. Not a care in the world. Baking cupcakes for animals. Making tiaras for rich little pets. Judging me.”
I bit back the rebuttal on my lips.
“In the end, I think one life was worth the sacrifice. Losing Wallace Becker meant I could keep the shop going. Keep helping women afford nice things and find better places in society.” The beam sliced a circle through the room. “I’m lifting up new women every day. What kind of a spoiled brat can’t see that?”
I moved silently along the racks behind her, eyes trained on the line of light beneath her shop door. Prepared to reach the only visible exit by any means necessary.
“I suppose that was harsh.” Her voice had turned sugary and pleasant, far too detached and carefree for the situation. “How could someone like you understand what it is to struggle?”
I balled my hands into fists. The accusation hit home in powerful, infuriating ways, cutting into every fiber of my being. I couldn’t control the life I’d been born into any more than she or any of the women she used as her patsies could, but I could control what I did with it.
Despite my family’s wealth, I’d never stopped trying to make my own path in this world. I’d tried fruitlessly for years to escape my heritage, my name, my money. But I couldn’t because I was a Crocker. I was proud of who I was. Who my mother was. Who my grandmother was. Proud of my dad and his family. I came from a long line of people who made a difference. So what if they sometimes used their money and influence to do it? My mom also paraded chickens across the county, entertaining and educating children and retired people. She didn’t need wealth to do that, only a big heart. She brought joy to strangers’ faces and delivered the profits to children’s hospitals. My chest swelled and my fingers curled. Who was this hateful, self-serving woman to tell me I was less than her or anyone else?
“Lacy?” Mom’s voice swept through the room inside a thick swath of light from the shop outside the stock room. Her silhouette appeared in the doorway.
Pain seized my chest, deflating the pride and replacing it with fear. Should I call out and warn her? Would Claudia leave her alone if I stayed quiet? Would Mom flip the switches and find Claudia with a gun?
Only ten feet from the light beam now, I had no choice but to move. I locked my jaw and made a run for Claudia. If I reached her before the flashlight turned in my direction, I could take her down.
Something pounded against my throat, and I went backward, coughing and choking. I groped a nearby shelf for leverage, but the overfilled monstrosity came tumbling onto me. The flashlight I’d been running toward rolled onto the floor beside my head. Another beam pointed at my face, and I squinted against it.
“Lacy!” Mom called again. “What was that? Are you okay? Your things are on the counter. Where are you? Why does the shop’s sign say ‘Closed’? Where are the blessed lights?”
“Run!” I screamed through an aching gravelly throat. “Run, Mom, run!”
Claudia clicked a flashlight on beneath her chin, illuminating her face like the ghouls in old horror flicks. “Now you’ve done it.”
Heavy metal shelving pinned my legs to the ground. Something sharp pressed into the flesh of my side. Her fallen flashlight, the one she’d tricked me with, slowed to a stop, its beam shining against the side of my head. Board games, sports items, and random camping supplies were scattered over the floor.
Massive blinding light erupted overhead. “Finally,” Mom yelled.
Claudia growled like an animal. “You ruined everything,” she seethed. “Do you know how long it will take me to start over? I’ll need a new name. New store. New resources. New everything!” She tore at her wild hair with one hand while training the gun on me with the other. “Get over here, Mrs. Crocker,” she called. “You’re just in time to say good-bye to the princess.”
“Lacy!” Mom cried. From the sounds of her voice, she could see me clearly now. I couldn’t see much beyond the fallen shelves and my captor.
Claudia spun toward the door. A sinister smile spread over her crazy face. She braced both hands on the gun, taking aim in the distance.
I dragged a fallen golf club into my palm and swung it against Claudia’s ankle.
The gun went off, and both women screamed.
My heart stopped beating. “Mom!”
The bark of police sirens exploded outside the building.
“Mom!” Tears flowed over my cheeks. “Answer me!”
“Here,” Mom called. “Here! We’re here!” Her voice was distant and getting farther away.
Claudia hobbled to her feet and made a run for a narrow hallway I hadn’t noticed earlier. A deluge of marbles and board game pieces scattered over the floor like thunder as she clunked between shelves. Her gun clattered to the ground, and she followed with a shout.
“Lacy!” Jack’s voice sent my heart and mind into overdrive.
“Jack!” I captured the pink handle of a ladies’ golf club and swatted Claudia’s gun as far from her as possible. “I am not a princess!” I yelled, turning the nine iron on her feet and legs as she rolled onto all fours and tried to crawl away. “I’m a Crocker!”
Mom blurred into view and dropped onto her knees beside my head. Tears streamed over her trembling lips. “Yes, you are.” She gripped my hot cheeks in gentle hands and sobbed.
I pulled her to my chest, fervently thankful for the fact she wasn’t shot by the bumbling lunatic on the floor beside me.
A pair of uniformed officers arrived seconds later and stopped to gawk at the scene.
“Well?” Mom snapped, wiping tears and righting herself. “What are you waiting for? Get this thing off my daughter.”
The men jumped into action.
“Have you called an ambulance?” she asked.
The officers looked at one another. “Yes, ma’am,” they answered.
Jack laughed, and the distinct sound of locking handcuffs was followed by nine precious words. “Claudia Post, you have the right to remain silent.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Furry Godmother believes in fairytales, second chances, and forgiveness, especially in New Orleans.
A month had passed since officers pulled a rack of toppled sports paraphernalia off my bruised body. All visible marks from the trauma had vanished. There was no longer a place for them on the canvas of my body. My mind was another story. Nightmares of being somewhere endlessly dark would likely haunt me into the future, beside other things I’d prefer to forget, but I refused to dwell on the negative. Given a repeat of the circumstances, I’d do it all again. I liked to believe that freeing Tabitha and the men she’d blackmailed was worth a little emotional unsettlement on my part. Undoubtedly, Karen would get me through it with a few short years of therapy.
I crossed my ankles beneath rose-colored linen and absorbed the moment. Surrounded by family, neighbors, and friends, the NPP Welcoming Committee would soon crown the first-ever Garden District pet ambassador. Stacks of bedazzled gold crowns formed the centerpieces on a sea of pastel-draped tables. Anticipation electrified the air.
The committee had outdone themselves. While I’d recuperated from the shock of another near-death experience, the show had gone on—or at least the show preparations. The ladies were unnecessarily tight-lipped about the final details, which infuriated Mom to no end, but I assured her they were only being considerate of her recent trauma and that it was perfectly acceptable, even advisable, for her to let others carry the burden
from time to time.
Dad finished his drink and dabbed a napkin to his lips. “I have a surprise for your mother. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”
I tipped my head and rolled serious eyes up to meet his. “Dad.” He’d been treating Mom and me as if we were made of glass since our run-in with Claudia. “I’m fine.”
His brow puckered. “Have I told you how sorry I am?”
Sorry that a maniac he’d met once in passing had tried to kill me? “Not today.”
“I’m sorry.” The ache in his voice broke my heart anew.
I kissed his cheek and patted his hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. What happened to us had nothing to do with you, no matter how you try to spin it.”
“You’re wrong.”
Emotion plucked at my chest. Dad had to let this go in his own time, by his own will, but I’d never stop attempting to help the process along. “Mom and I are fine, and don’t forget I have a whistle.”
He matched my give-me-a-break expression before pushing back in his chair and standing to button his jacket. “I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” I sipped my drink and scanned the roomful of happy faces.
As Mom had hoped, the NPP Welcoming Committee members were easy to spot in our matchy pastel ensembles. Despite the recent chaos, I’d given in and let Mom take me shopping. She insisted on buying me the most extraordinary knee-length, baby-blue gown I’d ever seen. The piece had just enough crinoline to give it zest and flounce. The wide neckline exposed my collarbone and hugged my shoulders. I was far too in love with it to reject her offer. The dress had been my gateway drug. I’d even let her hair and makeup team work me over, and I wasn’t disappointed with the results. Claudia would’ve hated the modern Cinderella effect wearing powder blue had on my skin and hair. I could practically see the little birds following us all the way to dinner.
My favorite part of the afternoon had happened while I sat in a makeup chair beside my mother. The experience was nothing like I’d remembered. She didn’t force me to repeat memorized statements that made me seem more genteel or advise me not to slouch. Today, she’d sat beside me, fussing at her stylist and asking me for advice on lipstick and jewelry.
I’d missed the exact moment it happened, but things had changed. My mom had changed. Somewhere along the line, she’d stopped being only my mother and had started also being my friend. I wondered if maybe it had happened the moment I’d finally let her in.
She returned to our table with a pasted-on smile and arranged the fabric of a soft-yellow skirt against her thighs. “Would it kill them to turn the air on in this place?” she quietly huffed. “The people are starting to smell like their animals.”
I smiled. Sure, she was a bit grouchy, bossy, and occasionally judgmental, but she was my friend.
“Speaking of animals,” she whispered, “here comes a fox.”
A portly man in a salmon-colored jacket tested the microphone. “I suppose it’s time we announce the Garden District’s first ever pet ambassador.”
A round of raucous applause broke out.
I gave Mom a questioning look. Maybe she’d had one too many of those pretty pink umbrella drinks. My legs had more hair than that guy.
The empty chair beside me slid away with a whisper. Telltale scents of shampoo and cologne tickled my nose and sent a wave of butterflies through my core. “Sorry I’m late.” Jack’s voice pulled my lips into a broad smile.
I swiveled for a look at him. His dark hair was damp from a recent shower, his cheeks ruddy from the heat. The ever-present stubble was groomed to a thin shadow. “You clean up nice,” I said.
“Like a fox,” Mom muttered behind me.
I smiled impossibly wider. “I didn’t know you cared so much about our district’s pet ambassador.”
He settled the gaze of ethereal blue eyes on me. A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Mom scraped her chair back and stood. “For heaven’s sake.”
Thunderous applause echoed through the room, drawing my unwilling attention to the stage, where Mom retook the podium with the speed of an injured sloth. Dad waited, center stage, with Voodoo in his arms. A ring of gold and white satin petals adorned her collar.
“Why’s your cat dressed like a daffodil?” Jack asked.
A bubble of laughter lifted from my chest. “I think she’s the new pet ambassador.” I joined the room in a standing ovation as Mom tried to, politely, reject the award. Dad shook his head and lifted Voodoo overhead like the Lion King, sending the crowd into booming fits. A quick DJ played the movie’s theme song.
“He seems forgiven,” Jack said. “All wrongful accusation forgotten.”
“Yeah.” Members of the community had shown up on his doorstep with apology casseroles and humble pie every night since the NOPD televised a press conference announcing the extermination of a local blackmail ring, which had resulted in the death of Wallace Becker. Claudia’s picture had made headlines for days. Dad was unequivocally off the hook.
Mom gave up her protest in an effort to quiet the crowd and graciously accepted Voodoo’s appointment. Personally, I couldn’t think of a more fitting cat to represent our town. No wonder the committee had kept Mom out of the last-minute details.
Jack leaned closer, clapping loudly. “Did Voodoo even compete in this competition?”
“No.” I did a wolf whistle and literal catcall. “This was a total coup.”
Chase slid onto Mom’s empty seat and leaned across me to shake hands with Jack. “How’s it going, Oliver? Congratulations, Lacy. Couldn’t have happened to a better cat.”
“Thanks,” I laughed. “Where’d you come from?” He was wearing the kind of suit he normally wore to work. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. I thought you’d want to know that we couldn’t find a loophole in the Becker prenup, so Kinley isn’t legally entitled to anything that was her father’s.”
I stilled my clapping hands and curled them on my lap. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” he said. “I was hoping to be the hero for a change.” He lifted smiling eyes to Jack.
“Is she here?” I asked.
“No. Turns out she’s not your biggest fan.”
I laughed. “What have you been telling her?”
“All lies.” He winked. “No, I’m sure she’ll come around. She’s a nice girl. She’s having dinner with Mrs. Becker tonight.”
I didn’t bother hiding my surprise. “How did that happen?”
Chase’s playful eyes sparkled. “They were forced to meet at the funeral, and it wasn’t a disaster. I think they give one another a piece of Wallace to hold onto. They’ve gotten together several times now. Mrs. Becker is turning the Cuddle Brigade over to Kinley. She said the company was Wallace’s baby and something he’d chosen to share with his daughter. She had no interest in overseeing it without him, so Kinley was the obvious choice for his seat on the board. She may not have gotten a check from the estate settlement, but this will change her life.”
I hugged him. “That’s the best story I’ve heard in days. People do help each other.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek.
He covered it with his fingers and made a goofy face. “Careful,” he stage whispered, “I think we’re being watched.”
“Accurate,” Jack’s deep voice answered behind me.
Chase lifted onto his feet and buttoned his jacket. “That’s my news for today. I’m going to leave you two to it.” He cast me a wink and strode away in a cloud of attitude and charisma.
I turned back to Jack’s waiting face. “So Chase and Kinley. Wow.”
“What do you think of it?” he asked.
“I think he hasn’t dated since he got home, and it’s probably killing him, so it’s nice he’s back out there. I think she’s probably not the right girl for him, but that’s up to him to figure out.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
I scrunched my nose.
“Conflicted. Protective.”
“Jealous?”
“No.” I shook my head and smiled at the peculiar expression on Jack’s face. “I think Chase is trying to let go of childish things. Settle down. Be a man.” I made air quotes on the last sentence. “Whatever that means to him, I want him to succeed. I worry about my friends.”
Jack worked his jaw, apparently deliberating on something.
“So what brought you here tonight? You never said.”
He released a long breath, as if he’d been holding one in. “I came to tell you Claudia’s going away for quite a while, but she’s getting court-ordered help from a counselor. Her sanity is in question, so the jury will go easy on her, and her maximum sentence will be lower because of it.”
“Good. I know she was confused. She really thought she was helping people.”
“It’s strange but true. She used all the money she swindled through blackmail to fund her store. Her bank accounts were thin, but her business sense was pretty good. Too bad she’d chosen racketeering as a secondary occupation.”
I thought of Jack and what Claudia had taken from him. “What about you? Those women weren’t only hurting the ones they preyed upon. They ruined reputations and businesses by association. Destroyed families. What will you get for your suffering?”
“Justice, I guess. At least I know it’s over. No one else will be hurt by those women. And I finally have the truth, a confirmation for my suspicions and a face for the one who tore things apart.”
My mouth dried. “Tabitha?”
“Yes.”
“Did you arrest her?”
He tented his brows and looked away. “Her mom’s in bad shape. I looked in on her.”
“You gave Tabitha the immunity deal, didn’t you?” I slid my palm over his hand on the table and curled my fingers beneath his palm. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
He curved his lips into a small smile. “I didn’t give her the deal, but I’m not working real hard to bring her in either.”