by Mary Frame
That’s not a dude.
It’s Tabby.
How drunk was I last night?
I lift the blankets. I’m still fully dressed, so maybe I wasn’t drunk enough to have my first lesbian experience. I shut my eyes against the glare of the sun and sag back into the pillow. The last thing I remember is my conversation with Jared, being full of shame and regret and then drinking too much before agreeing to take some shot of something fiery blue, a color that cannot possibly exist in nature. The rest of the night is a complete blank, with sporadic blurs of more drinking and asking Deputy Reeves to show me how to get the pool cue out of his ass while Tabby laughed so hard she nearly fell over, bringing me with her.
Then we must have come back here. Why didn’t I go home, what about—?
“Paige!” I yell, scrambling out of the bed but getting caught in the sheet.
Tabby’s soft snores are cut off by my yelling and flailing.
“Dude, chillax.” She groggily sits up and watches my hysteric attempts to extricate myself from her blankets. Her hair is a wild mess around her head and her voice is raspy from sleep. “Paige is probably still asleep since we woke her up at like two in the morning. She’s in the guest room.”
I still my frantic movements. “We did?”
Tabby yawns and lies back down, fluffing her pillow. “Yeah, you wouldn’t stay here without her so we all piled in the patrol car with Jared and went and picked her up—”
“We did?”
“Don’t you remember? You told us how you’ve been sharing a bed and Paige kept corn-holing you, so I offered to let you guys stay here for the night since my bed is way better for two people. We let Paige sleep by herself in the guest room.” She pauses. “I’m still not sure I understand what corn-holing is, but whatever.”
I sag back against the comforter.
Even in my drunken haze, I somehow managed to take care of Paige.
“Thank you,” I tell Tabby, feeling guilty now for waking her up.
“Yeah yeah, now shut up,” she says, closing her eyes.
I lie back down cautiously, not wanting to disturb Tabby any more than I already have. But I can’t sleep. I still want to make sure Paige is okay.
When she was a baby, I used to watch her sleep all the time. She was so amazing, tiny, and perfect. I didn’t understand why our parents weren’t as obsessed with her as I was. I constantly worried something would happen to her, but I was the only one. Our parents would let her cry all night. They kept their door shut against the noise. I learned how to prepare bottles and change diapers at an early age. I never really minded it though. It was actually nice to have someone to be with, someone to take care of, someone to love. Love was a foreign concept for our parents. Well, loving other people. Self-love they had no problems with.
Paige was all I ever had.
More carefully this time, I untangle myself and slide out of Tabby’s bed. Down the hallway I find the guest room where Paige sleeps peacefully, arms and legs spread out, taking up the whole space available, as usual.
Relieved, I make my way to the bathroom. I wash my face and rinse with mouthwash to get out the taste of last night.
While drying off with a lace-trimmed pink towel—which looks nothing like anything I would expect Tabby to own—I hear a thump out toward the living room.
Pausing to listen before putting the towel back on the rack, I lean toward the door. Is someone awake?
“Dammit Tabby, with the freaking shoes in the freaking hallway!” It’s a male voice. Troy?
I peek my head out of the door. Down the hallway, Troy’s leaning one hand against the wall to support himself and rubbing his foot with the other hand.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, stepping out of the bathroom and heading down the hall toward him.
“I’m fine. Tabby leaves her shit everywhere.” He gestures to the ground where at least six pairs of shoes are lying in haphazard heaps. “She hasn’t changed since we were four. Always just throwing her crap around and leaving it in the best places to try and kill someone.” He shakes his head. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.”
Oh no. What now? Did I do something else totally embarrassing last night that I’ve since repressed?
He grins at my panicked expression. “Come on, I’ll make you coffee.”
That relaxes me a little. If he’s making me coffee, it must not be too bad.
In the kitchen, he pulls out the coffee cups and fiddles with the machine on the counter until there are two steaming mugs.
He sets one in front of me along with a container of sugar and creamer.
“Thanks,” I say, stirring in the cream.
“I talked to the chief this morning.” Troy takes a sip out of his own cup.
I take my own fortifying drink and wait for him to continue.
“He really wants you to reconsider helping us with this case. We still don’t have any leads.”
“I don’t know, Troy . . .”
“He agreed to pay you contract rate. We can work around your schedule. You would still have time to prepare your business and then spend time on the case with us periodically or at night even. We have someone on call every night anyway, which will be great since, as you said, the gift doesn’t work on command. Even if you don’t see anything, or whatever, you’ll still be paid for your time hourly. But if you help find the thief, you’ll get a bonus.”
It’s not fair to come at me in the morning when I’m tired and hungover and even more broke than I was twenty-four hours ago. I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee.
I can’t possibly help law enforcement for three reasons. One, I’m a fraud. I’m no more psychic than Gravy is, and what if they figure that out?
Two, I’m not Ruby. I’m sure I’ll have to fill out some kind of tax form with information. Although, I do have all of Ruby’s information from her office. I found it the other day . . . But I can’t think of that. I am not thinking of ways this might work, I’m thinking of why it’s a bad decision.
Three, if it gets out that I’m helping the police with this case, there could be media interest, and I have no doubt that my parents will jump on that—even if they aren’t actively trying to find us. At the very least they’ll have their little feelers out there, seeking word. They won’t take kindly to anyone getting one up on them. They might not love or even like me and Paige, but that won’t stop them from taking action to get back what they see as theirs.
Finally, I really don’t want to spend any more time than necessary with Jared. He obviously finds me suspicious—because he’s smart—and I don’t really enjoy being subjected to the loathing that pours off him in waves and settles in my general direction every time we’re around each other.
Okay, maybe that’s more than three reasons.
But then again, I can’t help thinking of all the damage from Gravy that I’ll have to find money to replace if this con is going to work. And the roof that needs to be repaired at least to some extent if we’re going to last another four months. Then there’s the car. Plus clothes and school supplies for Paige. The list of things we need is never-ending. On top of all of that, it would be nice to save up some money because we’re going to have to leave town when the real Ruby gets back and hope that she doesn’t use her powerful, rich family to track us down.
Maybe I could do this.
“You should do this.” A voice behind me echoes my thoughts.
Paige is standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“I should?”
She nods. “If it helps someone . . .” She shrugs.
I know what she’s saying. If it helps someone, namely us. Having an in with the cops is like a dream when you’re running a con. It’ll be easier to know if they’re onto us.
I breathe in deeply, then out again. I’m running out of excuses not to, which might shed more suspicion on us than anything else.
“Fine. I’m in.”
“Yes!” Troy claps me on the
back.
“I don’t want any media involvement,” I add. Maybe I can at the very least make an effort to resolve one of my issues.
“But it might help your business if—”
“No. I don’t care about that. I don’t want that kind of attention.”
He nods. “Okay. I don’t think that will be a problem. I’ll pass the info along to the chief. Anything else?”
“Yes.” I hand him my cup. “More coffee.”
He takes it with a grin. “You might need more than coffee.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, if you’re free tonight, Jared’s on duty. You can start by hanging with him.”
Chapter Nine
“Please tell me you got something for me to go on.”
“I think I do,” Paige says, swiveling around in the chair to face me before swinging back to the computer.
I didn’t want Paige to help review the tapes, but I didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t sign for the shipments that came in for Ruby’s shop, and I need something to go on before Jared gets here.
“Thank you baby Jesus,” I say. “Whatcha got?”
It’s after six, and we haven’t even had dinner. I have less than thirty minutes before Jared gets here so we can do whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing, and I have no idea how I’m going to help them solve the mystery of the Castle Cove Bandit. At least, that’s what the newspapers are calling it.
“The general store has a strange occurrence every morning at ten.”
“What is it?” I walk behind her to see the video she’s streaming.
“Well, there’s a shift change when the guy at the bakery goes on break. Before the new guy gets there . . .” She pauses the video and points. “See this old lady with the hat? Every day she goes in there, and there’s five cupcakes on this shelf. Now look again.” She forwards the film and then stops again. “Now there’s three.”
“That’s it? That’s what you got? Some old lady stealing cupcakes?”
“I didn’t say it’s the best lead, but if she’s stealing cupcakes, maybe she’s stealing other stuff.”
“It’s kind of a leap from cupcakes to mugging.”
Paige crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, it’s something that you know that maybe other people don’t. It’ll at least make them believe you know things.”
“Or they’ll think I’m a few fries short of a Happy Meal,” I grumble. Although, it’s probably too late for that if the way Jared acts around me is any indication. “Sorry, Paige,” I add when her face falls. “I’m not really looking forward to conning the cop, and I don’t want you doing any of this. You did a good job. I’ll see if I can use it.”
She smiles.
The doorbell rings.
Of course, he’s early.
I suppress a groan, but Paige lights up. “He’s here!” she says, bolting for the door.
I follow at a slower pace.
“What are your intentions with my sister?” she’s asking when I make it downstairs.
“Paige,” I call. “Go do your homework.”
“I don’t start school until Monday.”
“Well then go do chores. Feed the devil cat or something.” I give her a screw-with-me-and-die look.
“Fine,” she grumbles, shuffling out of the room and down the hall.
“Tabby will be here in an hour,” I call after her retreating form. “No candy!”
If she’s hyper and crazy when Tabby comes over, I’ll never get her to babysit again.
I steel myself with a deep breath and then turn to face Jared.
He’s in uniform, the outfit ironed and cleaned and impeccable as ever, a matching hat in his hands.
“Hi.”
He nods.
Well, this isn’t awkward.
“Come in.” I step back and motion for him to enter.
He glances around the shop a bit warily before coming inside, rubbing his thumbs over the brim of the hat in his hands.
Is he nervous? The thought pleases me a little and calms my own nerves.
“So how does this work?” he asks. He’s frowning slightly and there’s a crease between his brows.
I can’t help but smile. He probably thinks I’m going to do some crazy voodoo or eat the head off a chicken or something.
Well. I can’t let him down now can I?
“First, we should go into the reading room,” I say, leading him in that direction. “That’s where I keep the sacrificial virgins.”
That startles a cough out of him.
A laugh would have been better but I’ll take what I can get.
I hold the beaded curtain aside for him to enter the reading room. His eyes are lowered, but they snap up to my face when I turn. Was he checking me out? The thought is oddly exciting, even while the idea of anything happening between us is beyond impossible. We won’t be here in a few months anyway, and, ugh, he’s a cop.
Once he’s followed me through the beaded curtains, I light the candle in the center of the small table while he stands near the doorway.
“Sit down.”
He complies, but he doesn’t look happy about it.
“We have to hold hands.” I lean my arms across the table, the candle flickering between us.
There’s a noticeable hesitation but then he hangs his hat on the back of his chair and gingerly places his hands on mine.
His fingers are warm, his palms lightly callused.
“Close your eyes,” I command. I shut my own eyes, but open them again a few seconds later.
He’s staring at me blankly.
“Close your eyes, or it won’t work.”
He frowns slightly but shuts his eyes.
I take a deep breath in and then hum it out, like I’m trying to get into the zone. Really, I’m thinking about the best way to mess with Jared. He totally deserves it.
“Now think about what you know about the mugging. Really concentrate on it. Focus on any negative energies in your . . . chakras,” I say. “Inhale with positive energy, exhale with the negative. Inhale, exhale.”
“How is this doing anything?”
“Shhh.” I squeeze his hands in admonishment. “I almost had something and you made me lose it.”
He huffs, but his eyes are still closed.
“I see . . . a woman.”
I think he rolls his eyes behind his shut lids.
“She’s older. She’s on a farm.”
His eyes are still shut, the ever-present crease between his eyelids winking at me.
Wait. Where was I going with this? That’s from The Wizard of Oz. Wrong story.
“Hold on, it’s not a woman on a farm,” I change my mind. “It’s the general store. But there is a woman. In a hat. That’s where we have to go.” I release his hands, slapping them slightly before standing up.
“That’s it?” Jared opens his eyes. “A woman in a hat at the general store? That’s what you got from all that?”
“Yep. Let’s go. The universe is pointing us there.”
He sighs, clearly thinking I’m a lunatic. “Fine.”
It takes us longer to get there than I thought it would.
Mostly because Jared went over all his rules before he would let me in the patrol car, and there were a lot of them. Have your seatbelt on at all times, stay out of my line of sight, buttons aren’t toys, etc.
“Am I allowed to breathe?” I ask.
“Only when your face is turned slightly to the right and away from the controls.”
“Hey! You made a funny.”
He almost smiles at me. Almost. It still looks more like a grimace, but I’m being optimistic.
The ride to the general store is mostly silent. Nothing more than the occasional drone of the radio and the rattle of tires against the pavement until we park in front of the general store.
Jared leads the way inside and to the register. We have to wait a minute while an elderly lady in a gold jogging suit purchases three long candles, a l
ength of rope, and a can of whipped cream.
I’m still contemplating what she’s going to do with her purchases when it’s our turn with the clerk.
“Hey, Barry,” Jared tells the man at the register. Barry has thick glasses, a white beard and a gold earring in one ear that completely throws off the rest of the image. His nametag proclaims him to be the assistant manager.
“Heya, Deputy. How can I help you?” Barry asks, his eyes sliding to where I’m lurking behind Jared.
“I’ve brought Ruby here to ask you some questions.”
“Okay.”
Jared turns and looks at me, brows raised.
“Right,” I say. “Hi, Barry. I was wondering if you could tell me about some missing cupcakes.”
Barry’s eyes widen and then flash over to Jared. “Why is she asking about that?” His voice sounds a bit panicked.
Jared turns to face me. “What about cupcakes? You said it was about a woman in a hat.”
I swallow thickly, heat creeping up my face. Why are they so concerned about the damn cupcakes? I hope Paige’s video intel doesn’t get me in even more trouble.
“It is about a woman in a hat,” I say. “And cupcakes. Cupcakes that are being stolen.”
“What does that have to do with the mugging?” Jared asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know, I’m just going with what the universe presented.”
“And this is what the universe presented. Cupcakes.”
I don’t appreciate his tone. “You asked me to help you.”
“Believe me, it wasn’t my choice.”
My eyes flick from Jared to Barry, then back to Jared. “Why is it such a big deal that I’m asking about cupcakes? Maybe there’s a connection and we should pursue it.”
“Sorry to waste your time, Barry.” Jared takes my arm and steers me toward the exit. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We get in the patrol car and he starts driving. I get a bit concerned as we approach the sheriff’s office, wondering if he’s taking me there to lock me up and throw away the key, but he continues driving past the innocuous brick building.
He finally parks in a small lot next to a giant grassy area that’s surrounded by a short, gray stone wall. It’s a cemetery.