by Lila K Bell
I got out of the car and rested my hand on her hood. “I promise I’ll make more of an effort. Who knows, I might have revert back to my ways of crime. I don’t think our adventures are over yet.”
It might have been my imagination, but I thought I felt a tingle of enthusiasm run under my palm.
Leaving my girls in the parking lot, I headed down the stairs to the bar.
It was busy tonight, despite the early-ish hour, but my bar stool was free. I made my way through the crowds, gave my usual nods and smiles to the Jewels, and waved Troy over for a drink.
I knew the moment he came to deliver it that the news had already spread as far as his underground lair.
“Really?” he asked.
“There was a reason.”
“At a funeral home?”
“To prevent a murder.”
He raised an eyebrow and walked away, leaving me to enjoy my drink.
As I sipped, I scanned the room, and by the number of people who looked away the moment my eyes met theirs Troy wasn’t the only person here who’d heard the story. The Brookside Rumour Mill was a twenty-four-seven operation and every third person you passed on the street was on the phone tree.
Great, I thought. Just what I need to help my reputation in this town.
It looked like going back to my thieving days would be out of the question until the excitement wore off. It didn’t stand to be too recognizable when you were trying to slip through someone’s window in the dead of night.
So where did that leave me? I could go against Detective Curtis’s wishes and continue poking into crimes that were none of my business. I could go back to taking things that didn’t belong to me and relying on Troy to help me pass them on to other people who didn’t own them. I could… sit around my house and do crossword puzzles with my grandfather until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.
Was twenty-five years old too early for a midlife crisis? Because at the moment, trading Mercy for a red convertible and driving out of town with the roof down sounded pretty appealing. The future stretched out in front of me like one giant question mark, and if I didn’t find a few answers soon, I would go as batty as Theresa Turnbull, our neighbour two doors down. She danced to Kansas on her front lawn wearing nothing but her bathrobe when she took a fancy to it and was known for mistaking dog treats with walnuts to top her maple cake.
Maybe I would get a job working with Nathan at the ice cream parlour and spend my days enabling sugar addicts to get the extra caramel sauce on their triple chocolate dips.
“If it isn’t Ms. Linebacker,” a familiar voice piped up behind me.
I whirled around on my stool and swallowed my surprise on finding Ryan standing behind me. It was Friday. He never came to the Trove on weekends. Questions popped in my mind like popcorn, but for now I didn’t push it and frowned at him instead. “You know I hate football.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his hand to his chest. “I thought you were prepping for this season’s tryouts. I must have misunderstood.”
“You did. I simply tripped. That’s all there was to it. I ran into the room, tripped on a flower arrangement, and knocked a man down. The sort of accident that could happen to anyone at anytime.”
“Especially to a klutz like you.”
“Exactly,” I said, bobbing my head in a nod.
He took the stool beside me, and I realized for the first time that an empty glass was already sitting there. “You’ve been here a while?” I asked.
Ryan shrugged and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. “An hour or so.”
“Rough week?”
“You could say that.”
“Want to talk it out?”
“Nothing to say really. Ran into some difficult clients. No one’s happy. But it’ll get sorted. It always does.”
I thought of his recent strange behaviour, the suit, the tie. Something was definitely up with him, but if he didn’t want to talk about it, I wasn’t about to ask. I’d done enough pushing and testing of relationships this week.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat. Hearing an apology was even more surprising than finding him here on a Friday. “About the awkwardness in the car, I mean.”
He wheeled his stool toward me so our knees interlaced. My heartbeat wobbled again, and I swallowed hard, trying to work some moisture into my lips. His grey eyes had turned charcoal in the dim light and the smell of his spiced aftershave tickled my taste buds.
Had he ever intentionally come this close to me before?
I tried to remember, but the feel of his leg against mine had sent all coherent thought out the window.
“I was tired and caught off guard by the fact that you were right outside my house,” he said. “I’ll admit, I never thought it would be possible to feel awkward around you.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I mean, I knew how I wanted to respond, which would have involved taking up a lot more of the bar space than I thought Troy would appreciate giving up for the evening, but within the limits of propriety and, well, legality, I was stumped.
Ryan knew it. Beneath the sincere regret lurking in his gaze, I caught amusement dancing there as well. The specific amusement he seemed to reserve solely for my benefit.
I cleared my throat. “That’s fine,” I said. “We can’t all be on our game all the time. As you prove on a fairly regular basis.”
His face split into a grin.
“But you could make it up to me,” I said. “You could buy me dinner.”
The moment the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to drag them back in. Dinner? Really? That was where I’d gone? A moment ago I’d been determined not to test anything, and now I was asking him out?
Really, Fiona. What is wrong with you?
Unfortunately, no matter how badly I wanted to take the offer back, it was out there. I’d done it. I’d put my proposition on the table, and from here it was up to Ryan to decide the next move.
And frankly, once my panic subsided, I was glad of it. I was tired of not knowing where I stood with him, of sensing the chemistry between us and having nothing to show for it.
There was enough uncertainty in my future. I didn’t want him to be one of them.
But relying on someone else to make sense of my life obviously wasn’t the way to go either. I knew it the moment Ryan’s smile grew strained and he dropped his gaze to his empty glass.
“How about we start with me buying you a drink?” he suggested.
I struggled not to let my disappointment show, because now a drink sounded like the perfect solution to all my problems. “Sounds good.”
He waved Troy over, and I stared into my empty glass. It wasn’t a rabbit hole by any means, but as it stood, I was out of white rabbits to chase, so for tonight a drink would have to be enough.
THANK YOU FOR READING
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you so much for spending time with me on the second installment of Fiona’s adventures. I love getting her into trouble and have so many plans for her to come.
This book couldn’t be possible without my husband and family, who have been nothing but supportive of my new ventures.
I also want to thank Lewis Carroll for writing a story that has always captured my imagination and inspired the foundation of this story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lila K. Bell is never as happy as when she's devising clever ways to commit crimes and reverse engineering how to solve them. She loves going for long walks to feed her imagination, reading mysterious plots into the
most innocent interactions.
She currently lives in Ottawa, Ontario with her husband.
You can connect via her website:
www.lilakbell.com
Find her on Facebook:
Www.facebook.com/LilaKBellAuthor
The Minstrel &
The Cold Case
The Midnight Minstrel Mysteries Book 3
Fiona swears she’s done solving crimes.
No more breaking promises or hurting feelings or getting in the way.
She doesn’t even sneak a peek when a body is found under the old City Hall.
So what if the victim has been missing for twenty-five years? Who cares if the guilt has to be weighing on someone’s conscience like a modern-day version of The Tell-Tale Heart?
A man has already been arrested. What would be the point?
Except her grandfather doesn’t believe the man did it, and he wants Fiona to prove it.
How can she say no to such a personal favour?
Once more the Midnight Minstrel weaves her tale, but how far will her glimpse into the past threaten the safety of her future?