The Money Pit

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The Money Pit Page 9

by George, Renee


  I didn’t wear mascara anymore. I usually didn’t care that my eyelashes were almost nonexistent, but Naomi Wells had lush eyelashes. Which meant, tonight I cared.

  The door opened, and my nightmare walked in. “Oh, hi, Lily. Fancy meeting you here.” She laughed. It was loud and bawdy. I’d expected her laugh to be as pretty as she was, and I felt like a petulant child that her terrible laugh made me feel better.

  “Hello,” I said as I pulled some paper towels from the dispenser. She didn’t make a move toward a stall like I expected. Instead, she moved in next to me, rummaged in her purse for some strawberry-tinted lip gloss and dabbed it on her full lips.

  “You out on a date tonight?” she asked.

  I had a gut full of nachos and wings and beer, and it made me surly. Still, I tried to be polite. “No, just out with some friends.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “You and Nadine, right?”

  I remembered she’d been in the diner when Nadine had asked me to come out for drinks on Wednesday. Had she brought Parker here on purpose? And for what reason? It wasn’t like I was competition. She couldn’t possibly know I was even remotely interested.

  “I better get back out there.”

  “Hold up,” Naomi said. “I heard about what went down with Bridgette last year. I’m really sorry you had to go through that.”

  Numbness crept over me. Had Parker told her about that night? I’d never asked him not to tell anyone, but I felt betrayed all the same. “It was awful.”

  “Did Bridgette say why she killed Katherine?” Her tone was gentle but probing. It reminded me of Hazel when she was interrogating someone. Friendly, but insistent.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Naomi. Sorry.” Though why I was apologizing was beyond me.

  “No, no,” she crooned. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…Bridgette had been a friend in school. It’s hard to process how someone like her, so put together, could have done such an awful thing. It’s a lot to take in. I was hoping you might tell me something that would make it make sense.”

  Bridgette Jones had been selfish and vain. She killed Katherine because she didn’t want the older woman telling the town that her husband Tom was the father of Lacy Evans’ baby, and then he’d gone on to kill Katherine’s brother because Bridgette was worried Ed knew the secret as well. Both of them had tried to kill me. And now, because Tom recanted his confession, I would have relive that night over again. There was no way in the world I was going to do it here in Dally’s bathroom with a woman I barely knew.

  “There is no making sense of what Bridgette did,” I finally said. “None. I’m sorry she was your friend, but she was responsible for two deaths, and she almost killed me. I wouldn’t even know where to start explaining that kind of behavior.”

  “I understand,” Naomi said. She reached in her purse again, and I heard the faint sound of an electronic beep. It wasn’t loud enough for human ears, but just enough that I picked it up.

  Play it cool, I reminded myself. She’s human. I’m supposed to be human. What she can’t hear, I’m not supposed to hear. It was probably nothing. She might have brushed against a button on her phone when she put the lip gloss away.

  I didn’t say goodbye as I walked out the door, but before I got three feet away, I heard my own voice say, “I wouldn’t even know where to start explaining that kind of behavior.”

  It stopped me in my tracks about half-way down the hall, my nails sharpening into claws. Had she recorded me? I mean, of course she had. I’d just heard my words echoing off the bathroom walls. I hadn’t said anything exciting or revealing, but that wasn’t the point. Naomi Wells had followed me to Dally’s, tracked me into the bathroom, and then recorded our conversation. What the heck was she playing at?

  I walked away, my mood soured by the encounter.

  Ryan Petry put his arms around me and swung me around before setting me down on the dance floor.

  He smiled like a man full of bliss, his eyes shining like he’d used them to capture stars. He moved with me, his right hand on my shoulder to lead me, his left in my right hand. Luckily, I’d learned a few two-stepping moves from Nadine and kept up without tripping over my own feet.

  “Lily, you look beautiful tonight.” He grinned down at me. I could smell a mixture of blended whiskey, grenadine, and orange juice. My friend had been doing watermelon shots. They were a favorite of his.

  “You’re drunk,” I said, glad to think about something other than Naomi and Parker.

  “Yes, I am,” he said. Then he lifted his lead hand from my shoulder and put a finger to his lips. “Shhhh. It’s a secret.”

  I laughed. “Not a very good one. I saw some pictures of you in high school.”

  “Really?”

  “On the back of that flyer. You were standing between Mark Stephens and Mike Duffy. Gosh, you all looked so young.”

  For a moment, his eyes grew sad. I had to bring up Mike Duffy, a friend of his who’d died, and totally kill his good time.

  “I’m sorry, Ryan. I didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked in a way that said he really wanted to know.

  “Your friend Mike died. I’m sure it was hard on all of you when it happened. Parker said he was away in the Army when his dad told him.”

  “Parker and Mike were like brothers. We all were. At least we were back then.”

  “What do you think about Adam? He’s awfully loud.”

  Ryan laughed. “He’s always been the life of the party.”

  “And Naomi?”

  “Lily.” Ryan gave a look of understanding and disappointment as he pulled me close. “She’ll never shine as bright as you in Parker’s eyes.” He leaned back a little to meet my gaze. “Do you think I’m handsome?” He didn’t smell like desire or lust, and he wasn’t looking at me the way a man looked at a woman he wanted to bed, which meant, the question wasn’t so much about what I thought. I realized Ryan was feeling insecure. But why?

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Right as rain. Oh!” His eyes lit up. “Proctor’s cow is about to calve in the next week, do you want to tag along?”

  “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

  “Girls aren’t the problem.” He lost his smile for a moment, and then it returned. “Shhh,” he said again. “That’s a secret too.”

  I giggled as he twirled me under his arm and back, and when he pulled me in tight, I glanced over to where Parker’s booth was on the other side of the tavern.

  Parker stared at me, his eyes flickering away as I caught him watching. He looked miserable. Naomi sat across from him.

  I looked up into Ryan’s beautiful face, and said, “You are very handsome.”

  He dipped his head and kissed my nose. “Thanks, Lily. You always make me feel better.”

  “I thought that was beer’s job.”

  He chuckled. “Sometimes beer needs a little help.” The song ended and he let me go. “So, do you want a call when the calf comes?”

  “Yes,” I said. “That’d be cool.”

  “Great. I’ll call you then.”

  I smiled. “Sounds good.”

  When I finally made it back to the table, both Reggie and Nadine looked at me expectantly.

  “He’s just a friend,” I said with mild exasperation.

  Reggie pursed her lips. “I’m beginning to think you say that about all the men in your life.”

  “Only when it’s true.” I tapped the table, cussing myself for the claw marks I’d left earlier. Thankfully, neither of my friends seemed to notice. “Okay. I’m going to call it a night. Smooshie is good at holding her water, but I’m pushing the limit.”

  Reggie smiled at me. “I hope we can do this again,” she said. “I haven’t had this much fun since the divorce.”

  I wondered if that’s why she’d moved to the other side of the state from Kansas City, but I’d save that question for next time. “I look
forward to it,” I said. “I’m really glad Nadine invited you to join us.”

  I gave both women a brief hug and headed to the exit. When I got to the hostess area near the front door, Parker was standing there.

  “Hey, Lily,” he said. The way he stared at me quickened my breathing.

  “Hey, Parker.”

  “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

  “Your date did,” I said.

  “Really?” His lost boy expression changed to one of disbelief. “How could she?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m glad to see you getting out. You deserve to have some fun.”

  “I’m not having fun,” he said.

  Good! “I’m sorry to hear that.” It didn’t seem hardly fair that people couldn’t lie to me, even if they didn’t always tell the whole truth, while I could lie at will. “I’m just on my way home. I need to let Smoosh out.”

  “I didn’t realize you and Ryan were so close.” His ears had reddened, but he seemed more hurt than angry.

  It occurred to me that if Parker believed I was seeing Ryan, he’d stop trying to find ways to date me. But I couldn’t bring myself to create that kind of deception, especially after I told him that I wasn’t in a place to have any relationships. “It was just a dance, Parker. I’m really tired, and I want to go home.”

  “You mean to the trailer.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  I moved past him and out the front door with unnatural quickness, knowing that Buzz would be more than disappointed if he knew I used my other half to avoid a petty human confrontation. I didn’t care. I was at the point where it hurt more to be where I was, than I cared whether someone noticed something weird about me.

  I’d parked two blocks down in a large car lot since there hadn’t been any street space available when I’d arrived. It was only nine at night, so the streets were fairly empty except for a few people exiting other restaurants and bars on the street. I saw a couple who looked almost freshly out of high school, kissing up against a wall. I scowled as I passed them. Stupid young love.

  When I got to Martha, I put my key into her rusty door. I felt restless with anger and raw energy. Smooshie and I were running tonight. We would run until our furry legs couldn’t move.

  I heard a slight click before a loud bang rang out. I reflexively ducked even as I told myself the sound was only a car backfiring. Goddess, help me. My shoulder scar ached at the thought of getting shot again. I’d never felt that kind of physical pain before.

  Still shaking, but annoyed with my wussy response, I stood up. “You’re being paranoid, Lily,” I said.

  That’s when I noticed the hole in the framing around the door. I put my finger in it. It was still warm.

  “Oh. Oh, crap.” I grappled my phone from my purse and ran up the street toward the tavern.

  Parker was outside with Naomi. When he saw me, I must have looked completely freaked out. “What’s wrong?” He grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Lily, what’s happened?”

  “I was… Somebody…” I shook my head, fighting against my own denials. “Someone shot at me, Parker. They shot at me.”

  Chapter 10

  Once again, I found myself in my third least favorite place in the world. The sheriff’s office. The second least favorite was the hospital. And my first least favorite was the morgue. I didn’t need to end up there to know I wouldn’t like it.

  Sheriff Avery had made a point of coming in from home to interview me himself. His office was large with oak paneling that gave it a den vibe. He had a metal shelving unit filled with manuals. His desk was cluttered with files and scattered paperwork. On his desk was a picture of his wife, Margaret, and a picture of Theresa Simmons and her husband Jock. Theresa was Sheriff Avery’s daughter. I wondered if he knew what a complete turd his daughter had married. Avery didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would let someone abuse his daughter. However, he did strike me as the kind of guy who was so wrapped up in his job that he wouldn’t notice if something awful was going on in his personal life.

  He thinned his lips. “Tell me what happened again.”

  I sighed. “I put the keys in my car door. I heard a gunshot. I ducked. When I didn’t hear another, I stood up. There was a bullet hole in my truck.”

  “Do you think it was deliberate?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why would someone want to kill you, Ms. Mason?”

  “I don’t know that someone would, Sheriff Avery. It could have been a random shooting for all I know. Whoever it was didn’t stick around to find out if their shot hit me or not.”

  “Could it have been a warning?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why would someone want to warn you?”

  The more stupid questions he asked, the angrier I got. “I. Don’t. Know.”

  My stomach burbled. And the sheriff raised his brows.

  “Nachos,” I said.

  He grunted.

  “Can I go home now?” Several hours had passed since my truck had been shot, and Smooshie was going on six hours without a break. “I have a dog who doesn’t care why I’m late, she only cares that I’m late.”

  Parker had offered to go let Smooshie out, but I told him I’d call Buzz to do it. Which is what I’d planned, until Sheriff Avery hijacked my witness statement and turned it into an interrogation.

  “Fine. You can go for now, Ms. Mason, but keep yourself available.”

  I winced and gave a quick shake of my head. “Where do you think I’m going to go, Sheriff?”

  “Goodbye, Ms. Mason.”

  * * * *

  Other than one pile of poop and a pee puddle, Smooshie had managed to resist the urge to destroy the trailer. As a matter of fact, she barely picked her head up from the bed when I found her burrowed under the blankets in the bedroom.

  I cleaned up the mess, changed into bed clothes, and crawled under the covers with her. “You’re not in trouble, sweet girl. Tonight was my fault, not yours.”

  The covers moved as her tail swished. She licked my cheek and softly whined as my body began to shake. I’d been shot at. Again. At least I hadn’t been hurt this time, but it didn’t change the fact that it had brought a flood of past trauma up in me. I thought Moonrise would be different for me, but it seemed that no matter whether I was back home in Paradise Falls, or here in this town, trouble seemed to follow me. It may have been why I entertained the idea that the house might really be cursed. I sometimes felt like I’d been born to bad luck.

  I didn’t realize I was crying until Smooshie crawled closer and curled her body into me. I wrapped my arms around her and just let go. My phone beeped. I ignored it. It beeped again. And again. By the ninth text message, I got up and grabbed the stupid thing with the thought of throwing it against the wall.

  One message was from Buzz. One from Nadine. The rest from Parker. All three wanted to know if I was okay. Since I wasn’t, I ignored each of them, put my phone on silent, and crawled back into bed. I tossed and turned. Not even the memory foam could take the tension from my muscles. I really needed to run.

  I let my cougar slip into my eyes and flashed Smooshie a look I knew she could see, even in the dark. “Want to run?”

  She scrambled from the bed, yanking the covers with her as she hit the floor and ran toward the front door.

  “I guess that’s a yes.”

  Chapter 11

  The night air was crisp as Smooshie and I explored the woods. There was a giant oak that was hollow near the base that completely monopolized the dog’s attention, much to the chagrin of the squirrel family living inside the tree. I signaled her with a chuff, which sounded more like I was coughing up a hairball. She barked a couple of times, but backed off.

  It was natural for her to want to hunt. I understood the compulsion to chase something down because their running away excited you. It happened to me every time I shifted, but I didn’t want Smooshie to get comfortable killing small
animals. It might start as a rabbit or a squirrel, but her aggression could escalate to other small animals, like dogs and cats. I’d heard it about my own kind my entire life, that once you got a taste for blood, it was hard to give up. Smooshie didn’t have the same kind of reasoning to reel her back from the edge if she crossed the line from play to predator, so I preferred she just stayed ignorant to the bliss of catching prey.

  I found more depressions in the ground. They seemed even more noticeable in the moonlight, because they looked almost like shadows where the light passed over the holes. I’d thought an animal had made them initially, a gopher or a mole, but they seemed uniformly spaced out.

  I ran at the nearest tall tree and leaped up, grasping the bark with my front and back claws, digging in as I scaled the trunk to the lower branches. Smooshie excitedly tried to follow me. She managed to get a few feet and slid back. She tried a couple more times, than sat on her haunches with her neck craned back as she stared at me. A few high-pitched noises escaped her throat. That was her way of telling me that she wanted to play, but not this game.

  I tried to reassure her, but while my cougar form could make plenty of threatening noises, there were only a couple of sounds I could make that might calm her, and I hated purring like a domestic cat. It just made me feel…precious. Blech. Instead, I used the sound to mean stop. The high, sharp, breathy cry dropped her to her stomach.

  I examined the surrounding area, and tried to detect as many of the anomalies as possible.

  A balloon of anxiety formed in my gut as I realized what I was looking at.

  I jumped down from the tree, landing, of course, on all fours. It was a myth that cats always landed on their feet, but we managed to do it most of the time. I smiled at that, and Smooshie gave me a weary look. I must have flashed too much fang. I purred now, and she pushed her body against mine.

  I sauntered to one of the areas I’d seen when I was up in the tree, and Smooshie followed. This was a mound, not a depression, which meant it had been filled in. Animals didn’t usually dig holes then cover them back up. I sniffed around, detecting the faint whiff of something not quite right. Some grass was starting to grow in the dirt, which meant it had probably been dug up after the first thaw at the end of February.

 

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