Furry Godmother’s advice for your waistline: Eat your feelings, not a pound cake.
Scarlet arrived on my doorstep approximately twenty minutes after her husband got home from work that evening. She brought homemade sugar cookies and a carton of my favorite ice cream. She was the best friend ever. The A-line on her vintage yellow sundress was working that baby bump like it was the summer’s hottest fashion accessory. My cotton yoga shorts and alumni shirt were feeling a lot like jammies.
I peeled the top off the ice cream carton and loaded two mugs to the tops. “How was your day?”
She drew the outline of a fish on Buttercup’s bowl with a red dry-erase marker, then kissed the glass. “Oh, it was great.” Her facetious tone dripped from each word. “Someone broke into my pet shop on Magazine Street and destroyed everything.” The sarcastic expression would’ve made me laugh, if she wasn’t aiming the jibe at me. “I would’ve called, but I didn’t want to bother you.”
I waved a spoon between us. “Listen. You’re right. I have no excuse for not calling.”
“You’d be a terrible defense witness.”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to bother you. That’s true, and my head’s spinning with all the nuts and crazy this week.”
She dragged her mug across the counter and jammed a cookie into the moose tracks like a makeshift spoon. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. Let me help you.”
“Can you still sew? I need a dozen capelets, among other things, but the capelets are simple semicircles with satin lining and ties.”
“Maybe,” she hedged. “First, tell me about the investigation.”
I stuffed a heaping helping of ice cream between my lips. The cool sweetness slid over my tongue in delicious perfection.
“Come on,” she insisted. “We used to be partners in crime. I’m really good at puzzles. I know this town as well as you do. I’m an excellent resource. Ask me anything.”
“How many little people are counting on you?”
She glared.
“I know you want to help, but if you start receiving threats on your life—or worse—because of me, I’d never forgive myself. Please don’t put me in that position. It’s scary enough thinking a lunatic might be stalking me. I can’t have them stalking you, too.”
She tapped her nails against the bowl. “I saw Detective Hottie outside. Is he stalking you?”
“No, but I see you’ve been talking to Paige.”
“Maybe, but I’m also a woman with a pulse.”
Jack had insisted on staking out my house again. He refused to come inside, and it was starting to get on my nerves.
I smiled over another spoonful of utter delight. “And a healthy libido, apparently. How many kids is this for you? Eight? Ten?”
“Shut up. Talk.”
I laughed at the ridiculous orders. She joined me eventually.
I stretched a hand over hers and squeezed once. “I missed you.”
Humor drained from her face. Fear crept into her eyes, and she turned her hands to squeeze mine. “Are you okay? Really?”
“I will be. I’ve got Buttercup to keep me company and enough work to keep my mind off whatever’s happening until the killer’s caught.”
“What did they take last night? Maybe that will give us a clue about where they’ll hit next.”
I wiggled my hand free and nibbled the end of a cookie. “That’s the weird thing. As far as I can tell, they didn’t take anything, not even my cash register. They left a hate note, though. So I assume this is about me. I just don’t know why.”
“What else?”
“I saw Miguel’s second girlfriend nearby today, so I asked about her at Frozen Banana. Sunshine said all the Barrel Room employees have a discount card. The clerk said she was a regular, but she wasn’t around last night or five nights ago.”
Scarlet tapped her spoon against the mug’s rim. “How reliable is the clerk?”
I shook my head. I had no idea. How reliable was anyone?
We finished our desserts in companionable silence, but I could see Scarlet sorting the facts she had to work with. She’d looked just like that while plotting senior pranks and revenge on cheating boyfriends.
“So,” she shimmied off her stool at the island and headed for my sink. “I called Sunshine.”
“Yeah?” I met her at the sink and took her mug. “How is she?”
“She’s terrified of being a single mom, but what can be done about that? When I heard about the break-in at Furry Godmother, I worried she might’ve changed her mind about you and gone berserk.”
“Did she?”
“No. She’s young and pregnant and scared. That’s all she’s thinking about right now.”
I finished rinsing our empty mugs and wedged them into the dishwasher. “Were you able to help?”
“I think. We had a long talk. She feels terrible that all this is happening to you and that Miguel was somehow a part of it. She wondered if it had anything to do with his travels.”
“Travels?”
“Mm-hmm. It seems Miguel made regular trips out of town.”
I reminded myself to breathe. This could be the lead I needed. “Where?”
Scarlet shrugged. “I don’t want to get involved,” she deadpanned. “I’m pregnant. Which way to the sewing machine?”
The doorbell rang before I could strangle her.
I pointed at her as I ran past. “Stay here. If this isn’t a murderer, you’re going to tell me the rest of that story when I come back.”
I skidded to a stop on socked feet and peeked out the side window. Jack wasn’t in his truck. I crossed my fingers and whispered to my ceiling. “Please let the person on my porch be Jack and not a killer.” Slowly, I inched the curtain back and checked the porch. “Uh-oh.”
Scarlet cursed. “I’m not as fast as I was, and I’m too big to hide. Should I call nine-one-one?”
“Maybe.” I opened the door. “Hello, fellas.”
Chase and Jack stared down at me from their lofty heights, all squared shoulders and raised chins. They looked like three hundred and fifty pounds of testosterone ready to explode. Chase had a bottle of vintage red wine and a wide, blinding-white smile. Jack’s tanned fists were firmly on his hips.
Jack angled his chin in Chase’s direction. “Who’s this guy?”
Chase’s smile grew impossibly wider. He shifted the wine into his left hand and extended the right to Jack. “I’m a dear childhood friend of Lacy’s.”
Jack eyeballed Chase over a long, slow hand squeeze. “You have a date?” Shock and distaste soured Jack’s tone.
Chase wiggled the wine. “She’s off men, but we have plans to find the bottom of this bottle and catch up on old times. Whatever happens then is anyone’s guess. How about you, champ? What are you doing here?”
“I’m Detective Oliver. I’m here on business.”
Chase freed his hand from Jack’s grasp and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. No need for fisticuffs then.” He breezed past me, dropping a good-natured kiss on my raging-hot cheek. “Sorry I’m late, sugar. You didn’t forget about our date, did you?”
“Actually, yes.” My eyes slid shut on autopilot. I counted to ten before reopening them to Jack.
Chase was in the kitchen, asking Scarlet about his nieces and nephews.
My attention was on the six-foot Y chromosome still rooted to my porch. “What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew Scarlet was here, so I didn’t think you were expecting a date. I didn’t mean to make a scene.”
“You didn’t, and I’m not having a date. That’s Chase, Scarlet’s brother-in-law. He’s not dangerous. He’s all dental caps and self-importance.” I flashed a toothy grin. “He told me we were having a date tonight, so he thinks we have a date tonight. That’s how Hawthornes work.”
Jack dropped his hand back to his side. “Chase Hawthorne.” He barked a humorless laugh. “I thought he looked familiar when he kissed you. I saw something similar while I was home for spring break senior year. Last time, it was my girlfriend he was kissing, and it wasn’t her cheek.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. Good times.” His attention fell to his phone, buzzing in his pocket. He read something on the screen and looked past me to Chase with a grimace. “Don’t let him leave until you see my truck outside again.”
“Why? Where are you going? What did that text say?”
He jogged off my porch and across the lawn to his truck. Ten seconds later, he was nothing but taillights.
Didn’t he know it was rude to ignore people? Especially terrified young women with pregnant guests?
I locked the door and considered installing a chain and security system. I could probably sell my eggs or plasma to foot the bill.
In the kitchen, Chase leaned over the island, mimicking a volleyball move. “And bam! He went down like a house of cards. One big heap on the sand. He had a bandage on his nose for the rest of the tournament like Marcia Brady when Greg hit her with a football.”
Scarlet roared with laughter. She wiped tears and motioned me into my kitchen. “We used to watch those old-timey reruns with Imogene. Do you remember?”
Chase uncorked the wine and hoisted two glasses off the rack. “Imogene’s your old nanny, right? She has crazy eyes and talks to herself?”
I smiled. “I don’t think she has crazy eyes, but she does like to talk to herself.”
He tipped his head back and laughed. “I was always afraid of her. How is she?” His butter-yellow button-down looked fantastic with his tan, accenting his unnaturally white teeth and making his impossibly green eyes greener.
I touched my glass to Chase’s. “She’s good. She came into my store today and told me I had bad juju, then whispered something into all the corners and shook a feathery doodad from her purse around the windows and doors.”
Scarlet stretched her back. “She’s right about the juju. Did she give you something for protection?”
“Like a handgun?”
Chase laughed. “No. Like a creepy dried-up alligator head from the bayou or a ragdoll with push pins that wards off evil or protects you from harmdoers.”
“Harmdoers is not even a word. Imogene is a nice old lady, not a witch doctor.”
He shook his smiling face. “Wrong. I bought a spell from her once when I got stoned and hit a guy’s Aston Martin with my Segway. Worked like, well, I was going to say a charm.” He frowned. “Magic doesn’t sound right either, though both are correct.”
“Did you hit your head in the accident?” I swirled the wine in my glass and pictured his stupidity. “You got high and took your Segway on a joyride?”
He rubbed his face. “I was young and stupid. I didn’t want a DUI, but I wanted to go down the street to a big party, and I knew I couldn’t walk that far.”
“A DUI?”
“Turns out you can’t drive a Segway under the influence and pot’s illegal, so double trouble. Plus, the guy was totally unreasonable. He tried to sue my family for astronomical amounts of money in damages.” He held up his pinky in promise. “I swear to you, I went to her just for help to stay out of jail. I paid her two hundred bucks for an other-lawyer-be-stupid spell, and it worked. That guy was a total moron. I’m surprised the Aston Martin owner didn’t have to pay me for wasting my time in court that day when I could’ve been riding my sweet Segway.”
Scarlet rubbed her belly through another round of laughter. “Other-lawyer-be-stupid. Oh, geez. I need to use your bathroom.”
With Scarlet out of the way, Chase narrowed his eyes on me. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay. I got a fish.” I pointed to Buttercup.
“If you need any help at the store, I can swing by tomorrow. I heard it was a real wreck.”
I took a step back. “No. The Clean Team took care of it. They’re like geriatric ninjas or really rich carnies. They came in like locusts and devoured the disaster. My door is fixed. The new security system is in place. I just have to finish the stock room inventory and it’s back to work as usual.”
He looked relieved not to have to help. “Was anything missing?”
“Nope.”
“So what’d they want?”
How many times had I asked myself that question? “I have no idea. I also don’t know why Miguel was there that night or why someone killed him. I don’t know why I’m caught in the middle of whatever is happening, and,” I lifted a finger, “I don’t know what is happening.”
Scarlet returned with a sigh. “Someone broke in to trash her place and left a threat on her life carved into her floor,” she told Chase. “She’s trying to find out who killed Miguel so Mr. Tater will continue to be her investor. Meanwhile, she’s pissed off this nut job and he’s coming at her every day. Earlier this week he stabbed her car. I think she should stay with her folks until Jack catches this guy.”
Chase gave me a strange look. “They stabbed your car?”
“My tire. She exaggerates.”
“Which is why Detective Oliver is staking out her house right now.”
Chase’s face lit up, and he snapped his fingers. “Jack Oliver! I knew that guy looked familiar. Where is he?” He craned his neck down the hallway, as if just noticing Jack hadn’t followed him inside.
“He got a text and left. He asked me to keep you here until he gets back. He plans to sit out front and catch whoever’s after me.”
Chase refilled our glasses. The bottle was looking emptier by the pour. “I’d go on a wine run, but I forgot my Segway.”
Scarlet helped herself to a big glass of ice water. “I’d go for you, but I’m too jealous to watch you have any more.”
I took her water away. “I haven’t forgotten you have information I need.”
She beamed. “I do? How is that possible?” She flipped her rosy curls. “Here’s a hint: it’s because I’m useful and really good at this.”
I returned her water. “Fine. Spill.”
She wiggled into a comfortable position on the stool and put on her best campfire face. “Sunshine says Miguel would disappear for a couple days at a time. Some weeks he was off the grid more than he was around, but he’d never give her details, and he forbade her from asking any questions. She assumed he was cheating, so she started checking his cell phone for hotel reservations, anything shady like that. She discovered he was out of town all those days. He’d visit different cities within a day’s drive. Travel all day there and all day back.”
I finished my wine and refilled the glass. This was getting good. “What was he doing?”
Scarlet lost steam. “She doesn’t know.”
I slapped the countertop. “Well, that was a horrible story.”
“You’re welcome.”
Pete’s ringtone burst from my phone. I lifted a finger to my guests and braced myself for whatever Pete wanted this time. “Hello?”
“Hey, beautiful, how’s it going?” His tinny voice echoed through the phone at my ear.
Chase snorted. Scarlet frowned.
I stepped away. “Have you made your travel plans? When will you be here?”
“I’m looking into the details. To be honest, this is going to be a more expensive trip than I’d expected.”
I ground my teeth. “Then don’t come. I’ll buy Penelope a ticket if you’ll get her to the plane.”
He huffed. “Our agreement was that I see you.”
“You just said it was too expensive.” Pressure built in my chest. He was backing out. I knew he’d do this. I knew not to trust him. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. I slid my eyes shut to force back the crushing disappointment.
A broad hand landed on my shoulder. Chase pulled me against his chest. Scarlet gripped my free hand.
“You could come to Virginia,” Pete said. Likely that was his plan all along. Get me alone and try to keep me, using Penelope as leverage.
“No.” Scarlet and Chase spoke in unison.
“Who was that?” Pete barked. “Are you on another date or is that the same guy from before? You’ve been gone for three months and you can’t spend one evening alone?” He breathed heavy into the phone. “You know what? Forget it. You’re clearly too busy for Penelope.” He disconnected.
Chase gave me a quick squeeze and stepped away, leaning one lean hip against the counter. His bright-green eyes were shining with wine and fascination. “Wow. That was your fiancé? You’ve got really bad taste in men.”
“He’s my ex-fiancé, and I hate him.” I swiped tears. “He’s a liar who screwed everything up and stole my cat. He knew I was leaving, and he took her somewhere on the morning I needed to leave for the airport.”
Chase shrugged. “I’ll get your cat back.”
“What?” I froze, tissue pressed to my cheek. “How?”
“Don’t worry about it. No one will find Pete when I’m done.”
My heart stopped.
“I’m kidding!” He laughed loudly. “You should see your face right now. It’s priceless.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and pointed it at me.
I whacked it away. “Don’t take my picture. That wasn’t funny. Tell me about getting Penelope back.”
His smile turned ornery and his eyes darkened. “I will trade a tersely worded letter from my prestigious New Orleans law firm for a kiss from you.”
“Ooo,” Scarlet cooed. “This is getting interesting.”
“No.” I shook a finger at her. “No, it’s not.” I turned to Chase. “You don’t have a law firm. You dropped out of law school.”
“No, I didn’t.” Chase smiled. “I finished law school. That was the deal I made with my old man. If I finished law school, I could do anything I wanted. I finished tenth in my class, and I didn’t want to practice law, so I didn’t. I wanted to make my college volleyball career a professional one.”
“So you know what you’re doing?” I couldn’t stop the smile spreading over my face. “If Pete looks you up online, he’ll find your family practice.” I puckered up.
Chase pressed a finger to my lips. “Uh-uh. That doesn’t count. You have to want to kiss me, and it can’t be the kind of kiss you give your mother.”
I pulled my face away from his hand and ignored the silly pinch of rejection. “You kiss your mother?”
He swigged the dregs of his wine and stared into the empty glass. “No, but when you’re ready, I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to enjoy it.”
Oh, boy! I turned to Scarlet, hoping the heat racing up my throat and through my chest wasn’t visible.
She looked past me to her brother-in-law. “Do you write bogus legal letters often, or did this idea just pop into your head?”
He refilled his glass and added more wine to mine. “I had a lucrative practice in college. All anonymous, of course. I’d write the letter on official-looking letterhead and leave it at the drop. Swing by later and collect the cash.”
“The drop?” I asked. An idea scratched the corners of my mind. “Do you mean a drop location? Like in spy movies?”
He straddled the stool beside me at the island. “Mm-hmm. It was all very James Bond. Are you impressed?”
I scooted closer, matching his body language. “What if my store was a drop location? I’ve gone over everything in the studio and at least half of the stockroom. Nothing was taken, but everything was overturned. What if the burglar was looking for something left behind by Miguel?”
“Clever.” Chase tapped the end of my nose. “But what?”
* * *
Jack’s truck was gone when I got out of the shower in the morning, so I drank both cups of coffee and hit the road, too eager to sit around waiting for daylight. I passed overeager joggers and pajama-clad dog walkers in droves. Chase had set my mind in motion with that whole drop location concept. What if there was something hidden in my overturned stock?
I arrived at Furry Godmother in time to enjoy the sunrise. I locked up behind myself and set the alarm, then scurried to the stockroom to finish what I’d started.
By eight, the excitement had worn off and I had sequins embedded beneath my fingernails. “Ugh.” I pried my body off the floor and shook half a pound of sparkles and miniscule embellishments from my clothes and skin. I hefted the final box of miscellaneous onto my desk and cracked my back. Sitting on the floor was for toddlers and Miss Molly.
My toe caught on something that skittered across the floor. “What the heck?” I fetched the small tool with care, turning it in my hands, trying to remember what it was for. The smooth, wooden handle was stumpy but easy to grip. The short, pointy metal protruding from the handle was completely unfamiliar. “What are you used for?”
I checked my toolboxes of craft supplies. Nothing in my collections had a similar handle, so it wasn’t part of a set. I dropped into my desk chair and went online to find out what it was and which box to store it inside.
After a few misses, I landed on an image of the exact thing I held in my hand. A jewelry burnisher. I jumped up and paced the room. Maybe this was the thing the burglar had been looking for? Or maybe he’d dropped it while he was destroying my stock. Maybe it was evidence from one of the heists. Gooseflesh rose up my arms to my neck.
I zoomed through the storeroom toward the front register and dialed the cell number on Jack’s business card. I took a plastic bag from behind the counter to keep the burnisher safe.
“Come on.” I dialed the office number next.
An unfamiliar voice picked up Jack’s desk phone at the station. “Detective Ansel.”
“Hi. I’m calling for Detective Oliver.” I grabbed my purse and keys, prepared to meet Jack anywhere he wanted.
“Detective Oliver comes in at ten. Can I help you?” The scratchy no-nonsense in his voice said everything. I was wasting his time.
“Did you say Jack’s still at home?”
The detective huffed into the receiver. “I don’t know, lady. Do you need actual police help or is this something personal?”
My gaze caught on the angry message carved into my floorboards. I gave the burnisher a hard look and disconnected with Detective Ansel. Then I moved slowly toward the threat on my floor and lowered the metal point of the burnisher into one of the perfect-fitting grooves.