“When will this night end?” Jenny groaned as the newscaster transitioned to a story about a zombie crawl happening in Atlanta.
Sera walked over and wrapped Jenny in a hug. “For you, it ends right now. Do you need me to drive you home? Or you can stay here.”
“I can drive. I’ve got to pick up Grayson from his friend’s house.” She turned and headed to the door. “I’m so glad you are all here for Mom.”
“And for you, dear. We’re here for you too. Don’t you forget that. Goodnight,” Lil said.
Sera walked Jenny out, and Jenny said, “Mom can’t find out about those guns. Not yet.”
“We’re on it,” Sera said, hoping like heck they could come up with a plan that would recover the guns in a hurry. Jenny drove off, and Sera stood there wondering how so much chaos could swirl up like a cat-five hurricane in such a short time.
She went inside, and Maggie and Lil looked as frazzled as she felt.
“We need to clean the fingerprint mess out of Abby Ruth’s trailer pronto,” Sera said.
“At least we can fix this part even if we haven’t been able to track down the guns themselves,” Maggie said. “I’ll go get the cleaning stuff and meet y’all out there.”
It took all three of them nearly an hour to get the mess cleaned up. “I hope those fingerprints help Teague and his people find Abby Ruth’s guns, because otherwise I’m not sure a clue is worth this kind of mess,” Lil said.
Maggie collected the soiled paper towels into a trash bag, and they made their way back to the house.
Inside, there was only a meager good-night between them as they went their separate ways to call it a night. Sera tiptoed into her room. Marcus had fallen asleep with his phone in his hand. As usual.
Unusual was the Spotify playlist playing softly. She took the phone from his hand and closed the app. She placed the phone on the nightstand then undressed and climbed into bed. Marcus’s warmth and the steady pattern of his breathing against the Cherokee Rose Room’s frilly cabbage rose wallpaper soothed her.
She laid her head on his chest.
Marcus wrapped his arms around her, his big frame engulfing her. She’d always felt safe in his arms—a familiar calming place, but not one that could chase away the sadness she was feeling tonight.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered.
“Mmmm. It’s okay.” He sifted his fingers through her hair. “You sound sad again.”
He knew her so well. She tilted her chin up, looking into his eyes. “Abby Ruth has breast cancer.”
His brows lowered, and he pulled her closer. “I’m sorry.”
“I knew something was wrong. Her aura started shifting before I went back to California. I thought it was all the crazy stuff going on around here at the time. What if I’d mentioned it to her? Maybe I could’ve—”
“Sera, you’re not a psychic. It’s not like you have a crystal ball.”
Which was seriously too bad.
“Let me help you forget about all that gray stuff. Let me make you see pretty colors.” He ran his hand down her back, his normal prelude to sex. “I love you.”
“Love has never been the problem.” Sex had definitely never been the problem. Their problem had always been lifestyle, and right now she didn’t know how to break it to him that she would never leave Summer Shoals while Abby Ruth might be fighting for her life. Would he understand?
Marcus sighed, a gust of warm air against her hair, and his hand stilled. “But you love these women too.”
“Like family.” She reconsidered. “No, not like family. They are family.”
“I thought I was your family.”
“Does it have to be one or the other? Try to understand that they need me. Now more than ever.” Abby Ruth didn’t deserve a one-two punch of stolen guns and cancer. Too much for anyone, even a woman with Texas-size strength.
Suddenly missing the comforting and arousing stroke of Marcus’s hand, Sera snuggled closer, which was her normal sign to him that she was in the mood too.
But he didn’t immediately take her hint. Instead, he said, “Sera, I don’t want to lose you.”
She lifted her face to his and kissed him, filling it with all the pent-up emotion she’d been harboring for so long. Minutes later, when their lips parted and they were both breathing heavily, she whispered against his lips, “Then let’s see if we can find each other again.”
* * *
When Lil shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, she was surprised to see Sera standing near the coffeemaker in one of her flowing gauzy skirts and a T-shirt, a soft smile on her face.
Lil sniffed the air. “That smells an awful lot like real coffee.” She couldn’t help but hope.
“I thought after last night we might all need a cup of something inspirational, and I figured it was too early for shots of Abby Ruth’s whiskey. Plus, we don’t want to have to tell her that’s missing too.”
Lord, if that wasn’t the truth, Lil didn’t know what was.
Maggie stumbled in, looking like a pinball bouncing off the doorjamb and a chair. “Caffeine,” she croaked.
“How did you sleep?” Sera asked.
“Like hell,” Maggie muttered.
“Then it’s good everything looks brighter and clearer in the light of day.”
Lil and Maggie settled in at the farmhouse table while Sera bustled around and placed coffee and bowls of oatmeal in front of them.
Maggie eyed her bowl suspiciously. “This doesn’t have any weird stuff in it, does it?”
“Organic peanut butter and a splash of pure maple syrup.”
“Yum.” Maggie’s spoon immediately delved in.
She’d already shoveled in a big bite when Sera added, “Oh, and maybe a few chia and flax seeds.”
“Thammmit, Therra,” Maggie sputtered, then swallowed with a grimace. “I let my guard down because you made real coffee.”
“Tell me the truth, did that bite taste bad?”
“No,” Maggie said, “but those little seed thingies popped in my mouth. Like eating a spoonful of roly-polies. Yuck.”
“Girls,” Lil cut into the breakfast debate, “we need to talk about Abby Ruth’s guns. Finding them is priority number one.”
Maggie sloshed back a big sip of coffee, swishing it like mouthwash before she swallowed. “Even after what we saw on TV last night? Because I think keeping your butt out of jail may trump the guns.”
The thought of that footage during the celebrity segment made Lil’s insides turn mushier than Sera’s oatmeal, but she had to put her friend first. “Yes. With Teague busy dealing with all the chaos in town to make much progress on the investigation and Abby Ruth sick, we need to step it up.”
“We’d better work fast then,” Sera said.
“We’ll knock that out quick and then shift back to those dad-burned gauntlets.” Lil sure hoped it was as easy as it sounded in her head.
Maggie blew out a breath. “I know the guy at Bull’s Eye said guns like Abby Ruth’s can’t be bought and sold just anywhere, but I keep thinking we should hit the pawn shops.”
“You’re right, Mags,” Lil said. “But not because we expect to find the guns. What we’re after is information.”
“I saw a sign for a pawn shop off the interstate when Marcus and I were coming in from the airport. We could stop in there.”
“No, ma’am.” Lil patted the tabletop twice. “Those pawn shop folks can be a sketchy lot. There’s only one place I trust. It’s in Atlanta, but I promise it’ll be worth the drive.” She’d had her own taste of pawning stuff after Harlan died, and Rick at J&R Pawn had done her right.
But before they could all scatter to get dressed, the front doorbell rang. Lil glanced down at her nightgown and robe. “How I wish we could go back to a time when people asked before they called on you.”
Sera hopped up from the table. “I’ll get it.”
Perfect, she could handle the visitor while Lil put on her face and made herself pre
sentable. She was tiptoeing across the main hallway to her bedroom when Sera called, “Um…Lil? Someone is here to see you.”
“I’m indisposed at the moment. Can you show them to the parlor and get coffee?”
“Ma’am,” a gruff male voice rolled back to her. “I need to talk with you. Now.”
Although the man clearly wasn’t Teague, there was something similar in his tone. That commanding, I-am-the-law-around-here timbre.
Oh. Oh, dear.
Lil patted at her hair and straightened her shoulders. Goodness gracious, if Momma had ever caught her accepting a gentleman caller in her nightclothes, she would’ve had a conniption fit.
“And a Margaret Rawls too.”
Maggie peeked out of the kitchen, her eyes wide. “Oh, Lil. I know we didn’t do anything, but this is scary.”
Lil grabbed Maggie’s hand and swept into the parlor as if she had on a ball gown and diamonds. Attitude and bearing were everything. “Good morning, Officer. How may we help you?”
“I have a few questions about the—” he checked his notes, “—gauntlets stolen from Jessie Wyatt’s casket.”
“Young man, do you even know what a gauntlet is?”
“Some kind of armband.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his knife-creased khaki uniform pants. “Can you tell me what you saw the day of Jessie Wyatt’s interment?”
“A lot of people, a beautiful if slightly over-the-top ceremony, then Jessie Wyatt’s crazy cousin hollering like a banshee.”
“Specifically, what you saw on the casket?”
“A big spray of flowers, bluebonnets, and Jessie’s iconic cowgirl outfit.”
“Anything suspicious happen while you were near the casket?”
“No.” Lil held up a finger. “Actually, as we walked inside, I saw a rose on the ground and picked it up.”
“Was that significant?”
“I didn’t think so, but then I’m not a trained professional like you.”
He cut a glance her way. “You said the casket spray was a blanket of bluebonnets. So where’d the other flower come from?”
“People were placing roses on top of the casket as they left.”
“On top of the gauntlets?”
“All over the casket,” she said. “She was very loved. Young man, if you want to know if I stole those gauntlets, why don’t you come out and ask me? It’s not good manners to beat around the bush.”
The deputy’s ears turned red, and Maggie bumped Lil with her hip.
“Ma’am, did you take the gauntlets?”
“If I took the gauntlets, would I tell you to ask me about it?”
“That’s not exactly an answer,” he said. “Did you touch them?”
Maggie sent her a warning look, but it wasn’t as if Lil could lie about it. The proof was all over the gossip news. “Yes.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because they were out of alignment.”
“Out of what?”
“You know, out of kilter. One was at a forty-five degree angle. The other at…oh, I’d estimate thirty-nine.”
“Ma’am, are you OCD?”
“Oh sea what?”
Maggie leaned over. “He means obsessive compulsive disorder. You know, like Nash Talley.”
“Ooooh.” She gave a definitive head shake. “No, I’m not OCD. But a lady’s clothes should always look their best, whether or not she’s alive.”
“No one would believe that story. Why would you expect me to believe you touched the gauntlets, but didn’t steal them?”
“I didn’t touch them.”
“But you just told me you did touch them.” His eyes bugged from his face. Lil checked his finger for a wedding ring and found it empty. Not surprising if his eyes often performed that unattractive trick.
“No, I said I adjusted one of them.” My goodness, where was Pitts Country training their deputies these days—at a drive-thru?
“You know this looks bad, don’t you, Ms. Fairview?”
“In all my years, I’ve certainly learned that just because something looks one way doesn’t mean it is that way. Do you go around harassing innocent people simply because they were in the store when someone shoplifted a can of beans?”
“Lil,” Maggie said in a low tone, “do not antagonize him.”
“But you’re not exactly innocent, now, are you?” Once again, he checked his notes. “In fact, you served fourteen months in federal prison camp for a crime you confessed to.”
That set Lil to shaking, half from fear and half from deep red anger. How dare he? But she held it together and smiled. “Well, using that logic, if I were guilty of what you’re accusing me, wouldn’t I say so outright?”
He snapped his notebook closed. “Were the gauntlets on the casket when it was taken inside the mausoleum?”
“I can’t say for sure. I was behind the workers who were pushing it. And when we went inside, they raised the casket in the air. It was hard to see much.”
“The only reason I’m not putting you in handcuffs right this minute is because you told me about the rose you’d found and because, at your age, you’re not much of a flight risk.”
Oh, the rebellious part of Lil wanted to tell him she was as much a flight risk as anyone else and that she planned to march upstairs and pack her bikini for a tropical vacation as soon as she tossed him out on his behind. But she held her tongue. “I understand completely.”
“Don’t travel beyond Bartell County until we clear you.” He stood, and Lil joined him. The sooner she had him out of her house, the better.
Once she’d seen the deputy to the door, Lil leaned against the foyer wall. When would life around Summer Haven ever return to normal? Her world used to be orderly and simple. Volunteer work, some quilting, and if she snuck in an MMA bout on TV once in awhile, no one had been the wiser.
Now, every day was a bit of craziness. Reminded her of the time her momma had gone a little berserk over an old mattress her daddy had refused to replace. Lil could still see the stubborn line of her momma’s mouth as she dragged that thing down the stairs and out the front door. Bump, bump, bump.
She’d put a match to the mattress, burned it right there on the front lawn. The flames shot so high someone had called the volunteer fire department, but momma had refused to let them put out the fire until only piles of springs were left.
For months, a circle of charred grass and earth had decorated Summer Haven.
But Daddy had run out and bought a new mattress lickety-split.
“Bartell Schmartell. We’ve got things to do.” Lil straightened and strode back into the parlor. “Okay, girls. Since we already planned to hit the pawnshop today, I figure we can make a quick stop by the mausoleum on the way. See if we can pick up any clues. We’ll just have to work both cases. How does that sound?”
“What about Abby Ruth?”
Lil glanced at the ceiling above them. “Jenny planned to come back over this morning, so she’ll be here to entertain—”
“You mean distract.”
“—distract Abby Ruth while we take care of business.”
Chapter 10
“Okay, girls,” Lil said from her jouncing seat in the back of Sera’s van. “We have to accomplish a ton today. All we have to do is find Jessie Wyatt’s missing gauntlets and Abby Ruth’s guns. Surely we can do it.”
She saw the quick raised-brow look that Maggie shot toward Sera, who caught it even though she was driving sixty miles an hour down the county road toward the Holy Innocence Mausoleum.
Darn it, she wanted those two to stop elbowing her out of their investigative insider secrets. “Just say it, Mags.”
“What?”
“Whatever it is you were communicating to Sera via mind meld.”
Sera glanced back to her right, her lips pressed together, and Maggie sighed.
“See.” Lil aimed her fingers toward them both like an airline attendant pointing out exits. “That. Right there.”
M
aggie twisted in her seat to look at Lil. “It’s just that you make it all sound so easy, like you plan to snap your fingers and everything that’s missing will suddenly run and jump into your arms.”
“Goodness, with that attitude, how did the three of you solve these other little crimes around town?”
Sera glanced in the rearview window, and for once, her face wasn’t a study of sunshine and happiness. In fact, she looked downright fierce. “First of all, theft and fraud aren’t little crimes.”
“I only meant—”
“Second, if you’re insinuating we don’t believe in our ability to find anything we set our minds to, that’s silly. I’m the most optimistic person around. But Lil, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and crimes aren’t solved in a day either.”
“Fine, so maybe tracking down everything today isn’t completely realistic, but between the mausoleum and the pawn shop, surely we can get some solid leads.” Wasn’t that what the CSI people called them—leads?
She needed to get Abby Ruth to show her how to use that darned DVR so she could start recording all those crime shows. She could probably learn a few tricks that way.
Once they were inside the mausoleum, Lil realized all the bouncing in Sera’s backseat had rattled loose her two cups of breakfast coffee. “Why don’t y’all start looking around up here? I’m going to the ladies’ room, and I’ll check out that area while I’m there. Let’s meet back here in twenty minutes for a quick debrief.”
“Should we synchronize our watches?” Maggie asked.
Lil had a feeling there was a touch of sarcasm behind her BFF’s words, but she simply smiled. “I think we can wing it.” Lord, as loosey-goosey as Maggie’s and Sera’s methods were, sometimes she wondered if their past successes weren’t all just dumb luck.
Not that she would say such a thing, of course.
The tiny brass sign for the restroom pointed her to the stairwell.
Her knee popped as she turned, but she caught sight of the elevator across the hall. She walked over, pressed the button and waited. The chug-chug-chug of the elevator took its own sweet time and then finally with a thud, the heavy metal door slid open like the sigh of a giant.
Under the Gun Page 9