Furry Godmother’s advice for managing stress: Try a new lease on life. It’s exhilarating and extremely affordable.
A crowd had formed outside my parents’ home. Guests and staff made a human wall along the sidewalk three people deep. Neighbors had gathered behind fences in nearby yards, tying floppy robe belts around their middles and snapping pictures with cell phones. I pulled my car over at the corner, several yards away, and practiced breathing. Searing pain ripped through my throat and chest with every deep inhalation. Too many shallow breaths had blurred my world.
Dad ran toward my car with terror in his eyes. His black jacket fluttered in the wind behind him. “Lacy!”
Tears rolled over my scorching cheeks. I unlocked the door and waited for his help. My limbs were heavy and shaking. My teeth chattered violently, and my head ached from the fresh load of stress that had tipped my mental scale. I wasn’t built for this kind of excitement. I liked puppies and kittens. Sunsets and books.
Dad wrenched the door open and dropped into a squat. His soft palms warmed my cheeks. “Are you hurt?”
I turned my chin left and right, unable to trust my tongue.
He released my face and checked my pulse, then ran a critical gaze over my torso and appendages. “I heard the honking and came to see what was happening. There was a bleeding man in the road, and Jack had a gun on him. Jack said the man tried to hurt you. Did he touch you?”
I shook my head again. Without his hands to stabilize me, I was a life-sized bobblehead doll. “He tried to get in.” I slid my eyes toward the passenger seat.
“How’d you get away?” Dad’s voice wobbled.
“I think I ran him over.” I peered through the windshield. “Is he okay?”
“He’s pretty banged up. Jack wouldn’t let me treat him, but there’s an ambulance on its way. They should check you over. You could’ve been killed. I think that man’s on something.”
“Drugs?” I sputtered. My attacker in Virginia was high when he hurt me. Drugs turned normal people into time bombs. They couldn’t think. Couldn’t rationalize.
“I don’t know.” Dad gave the man another look. “He reeks of alcohol, but he’s clearly taken something else. His pupils are dilated. Alcohol would’ve constricted them. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s got a tremor, and he’s extremely agitated.”
The man sat in a heap on the sidewalk, propped against a tree and handcuffed to a historic metal hitching post. The poles were topped with stallion heads and rings for securing horses in another era. I’d strung colored yarn through those loops as a child and hung signs for tea parties and playdates. I’d never look at them again without seeing Levi Marks and his gun.
I swallowed. “Jack says that’s the murder victim’s old partner.”
Dad’s eyes widened. The skin on his forehead pulled tight. “Let’s go inside.”
“I have to give a statement.”
“They can come inside to take it. You don’t need to face that man right now.”
Dad escorted me from the car and led me toward the house. The distant cry of emergency vehicles drew closer with each step. An uneasy hush rolled over the street as I pulled away from Dad and moved toward Levi. His pants were ripped and his cheek was raw and bruised. One of his shoes was missing. The bare foot was swollen, bloodied, and black.
Jack stepped between me and Levi. He nodded to Dad.
I leaned around Jack for a clear view of Levi. Anger burned away my fear like the silver coating on a sparkler. Surrounded by my people, bolstered by the presence of Jack and Dad, I felt primal, livid, and dangerous. “Why did you do that?” The words were feral. I wanted to frighten him the way he frightened me.
Jack reached for my shoulder.
I pulled back and jumped around him to look Levi in the eyes. “Why did you do that? Were you planning to kill me? For what?” Angry tears welled in my eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?” I screamed. A tremor rocked my limbs. My teeth chattered harder, knocking against one another until I feared they’d break. “I don’t understand what I’ve done to you.”
Levi narrowed his red, beady eyes and spat on the street at my feet. “What have you done?” he growled. “You’ve thrown me from a moving car and crushed my foot. You fled the scene of a crime.”
“Your crime!”
A smirk played across his filthy, road-rashed face. “I hope you have a good lawyer.”
My mouth snapped shut. I curled my fingers into fists at my side. Fire lit in my veins.
Jack lifted an arm between us. “That’s enough.”
Dad tapped the screen of his cell phone. Mom covered her mouth with a handkerchief.
I pulled oxygen into my stinging lungs and braced to spring. “How badly can I hurt him before the cops arrive?”
“I’m the cops.” Jack gripped my shoulders and steered me away from Levi. “Do not engage him anymore. I need you to think about your statement.” He lowered his voice. “Keep a level head. Don’t let him win.”
Levi spat at my feet again.
Jack pushed me onto the sidewalk with my parents, stepping on Levi’s foot as he passed. “Whoops. Sorry about that.”
Levi screamed and flailed, overselling his pain.
Hopefully the neighbors hadn’t caught the accident on camera. Someone might think it looked intentional.
The ambulance wailed onto the street, blinding me with too-bright lights and too many reflectors. A pair of NOPD cars brought up the rear.
Chase blinked into view beneath a cone of streetlamp light. He raced over the mossy, uneven sidewalk. “What happened? I was halfway home when I saw the emergency vehicles headed this way.”
Mom stretched a finger in Levi’s direction. “That man tried to kill her.”
Chase pulled me to his chest and wrapped long arms around my back.
“What are you doing?” I mumbled into his shirt.
He kissed the top of my head and lay his cheek on my hair. “All these people think I’m your boyfriend,” he whispered. “I’m selling it. Plus, you nearly scared the cookies out of me.”
“That’s enough.” I pulled away to watch the events unfold behind me.
Jack’s ghostly blue eyes were locked on us. His stance was rigid. His expression was blank.
“That’s Levi Marks,” I explained to Chase. “He tried to carjack me, and I drove away, but he hurt his foot. I think I ran it over.”
Jack opened and closed his right fist, clenching and stretching his fingers.
I cringed. “Jack might’ve helped his face get like that.”
Levi called out in pain with every touch of the EMT’s hands. He grinned slyly as he watched me fume helplessly.
“I wish I’d helped his face get like that. He says he’s going to sue me for escaping his attempt on my life.”
Chase puffed air. “Typical. I know where you can get a good Other-Lawyer-Be-Stupid spell.”
A short laugh lodged in my throat and hardened into a painful rock. My bottom lip began to tremble. “He wanted to kill me, and I don’t even know why.”
Jack snapped out of his stupor and approached me with a look of shocking remorse. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop this.”
I waved a trembling hand. “You tried. You were here. What else could you have done?”
“I could’ve driven you here.” He ran a heavy hand through his hair and settled it on the back of his neck. “I could’ve kept a closer eye on the staff tonight. I should’ve had a second set of eyes on the premises, but I didn’t. You should be proud. Keeping a level head in a situation like that isn’t easy, and it probably saved your life.”
“Thanks.”
He dipped his chin. “Levi won’t hurt you again. He’s in violation of his parole and in possession of a firearm. He attempted an abduction and is clearly high. He’s going back to jail for a long time.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I savored the sweet drawl in those words. Relief washed over me like rain.
“Party’s over,” Jack called into the crowd. “If you believe you saw or heard anything tonight that could be useful to the police, or if you know anything about this man”—he pointed to Levi, who was being loaded onto a gurney—“please see me now. Otherwise, form a line, collect your cars from the valet, and go home. I’ll get a guest list from Mrs. Conti-Crocker and contact you individually this week if I have any further questions.”
I wrapped shaky arms around myself and leaned against Chase for support. “It’s over.”
He rubbed his palms up and down my chilled skin. “Got any coffee left, Mrs. C?”
“Of course.” She extended her hand to me.
I accepted.
Mom swept me against her side. “I can make some herbal tea if you don’t want the caffeine.”
“I want the caffeine.” I wouldn’t be sleeping again until I knew Levi Marks was behind bars far away from New Orleans.
* * *
Slowly, the coffee spread through my icy veins, warming me from the inside out. Mom put me on the couch and covered me with Grandma’s favorite afghan. She slid booties over my feet and patted my head. Imogene arrived minutes later and whispered frantically with Mom in the kitchen.
Chase left the minute the crowd had dispersed. The caterers had the house back to preparty status in twenty minutes. Dad made plans to go to the firing range and unload some frustration first thing in the morning.
I set my empty cup aside and rubbed my palms together. “Want some company when you go?” Shooting was something Dad and I had done together all my life. His dad bought me my first BB gun when I was eight. We shot old cans off fence posts at his farm until I couldn’t miss. Dad took me skeet shooting at the club when I was older. He bought me my first handgun as a graduation gift, but I’d left it at home when I went to college. Dad had been a military sharpshooter. I wasn’t half bad ten years ago, but I hadn’t held a gun since I completed my concealed carry training. I’d wondered a thousand times about my mugger. What if I’d been carrying? Would I have taken his life to save my own? I couldn’t answer that question, which meant it was a good thing I’d left my gun in a safe where it belonged.
Mom pushed a swath of hair behind my ear. “What are you thinking about?”
“Bad juju.”
Imogene clucked her tongue. “Didn’t I tell you?” She unwrapped a brilliant silk scarf from her hair and dropped onto the edge of the couch at my side. “Your mama told me everything.”
I gave Mom the stink eye.
Mom gave it back. “I think you should stay here tonight.”
Imogene pressed one of my hands in both of hers. “Listen to your mama. There’s blood on the moon tonight. You shouldn’t be alone.”
I squeezed her hand and smiled. “I missed you at the party. Where were you?”
“I was babysitting my granddaughter, Miss Isla.”
“How’s Isla?”
She shook her head and dug into her purse. “Better than you. She’s tucked in tight. Swaddled in love.” She liberated a small hunk of clay from her bag and pressed it into my hand. “For good luck. Chanchito will keep you safe.”
I opened my palm. A little three-legged pig figurine looked back at me. “Thanks.” I closed my fingers around it and reevaluated my life. “How long can it take to talk to the guests?” I wanted to go home, away from another crime scene. I wanted to be tucked into my bed and swaddled with love. What did a lady have to do around here for that?
The muted glow of red-and-blue lights disappeared from outside the window. “I think they’re all gone now,” Dad said.
“Thank goodness.” A few days ago, I’d worried about ruining my family’s name when coverage of Miguel’s murder hit the paper. Tonight I’d lured a jewel thief and killer to my parents’ home and run him over with my car. “I’m really sorry about this.”
Dad pulled the curtain back and scanned the street. “This isn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of a criminal.” He released the curtain and headed for the kitchen. “Anyone need anything else?”
“No.” We all answered.
The back door opened and closed.
Jack’s voice cut through the air. “I’m sorry to do this now, but I’d like to get Lacy’s statement while it’s fresh in her mind.”
As if I wouldn’t replay it frame by frame for the next thirty years.
I tensed as his footfalls grew nearer and sighed in relief when he came into view.
Imogene made a long humming sound before going to stand with my mom.
“May I?” He motioned to the chair beside me.
“Of course. Do you want coffee? Tea?” I wiggled into a seated position on the couch.
“Whisky?” Dad offered.
Jack smiled. “I plan to have plenty of that later.” He turned anguished eyes on me. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you can give an account of your night for the record? If you need more time, we can wait until morning, but I’d rather not push it longer than necessary. Images and recollections can become hazy or inflated as time goes by. We rehash, add, and eliminate things from memories as necessary for our mental health.”
“Now’s fine.”
Dad extended a hand to Mom and Imogene. “Come on. I missed the party, and I’m starved. Let’s see what’s in the fridge.”
Jack scooted forward in his chair until his knees bumped the couch. “Do you want to call them back for moral support? This can be a difficult process so soon after a trauma.”
“I’m okay.”
“Maybe you want your boyfriend with you.”
“I don’t . . . Chase Hawthorne is not my boyfriend. Mom cooked up that scheme so I’d stay at her party. When men flirt with me at these things, I never know what to say, and it makes me uncomfortable.”
“It’s hard to be young, wealthy, and attractive.”
I scoffed. “Shut up.”
“What?” He smiled. “I was talking about me.”
A laugh bubbled up from my core. “Yeah, you looked miserable, surrounded by all those women.”
“Like I said.” He turned his cell phone over and rested it on the coffee table. “I’m going to record this. I’ll take notes, but you can talk as quickly as you like and get it all out. I’ll replay and review the statement later.”
“Should I write anything down? Do you need a written statement?”
“When you’re ready.”
I wrung my hands. “You have a good bedside manner. Ever think of becoming a doctor?”
“Maybe when I get too old to chase crooks.”
“You call them crooks? You might be older than you think, Bugsy.”
He tapped the pen against his paper. “I’m sorry I was short with you yesterday.”
“Do you mean when I stopped by, unannounced, and told you I was digging around in your murder investigation?” I smiled. “I was mad about that for a while, but I guess you had a point.”
“I knew Levi was in town. I assumed he was following you, which is why I’ve been staking out your place. I didn’t want you leading him to my house. The goal was for me to surprise him and not the other way around.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was in town?”
“I wanted to protect you without worrying you.”
“How’d you know for sure?” I’d speculated but hadn’t found any proof.
He gave me the bored, it’s-my-job face. “I went back to Boondocks and talked to the bartender. She gave a description of the man asking about Miguel. I showed her Levi’s mug shot, and she confirmed it was him, so we put out a BOLO and pulled some footage from local business cameras. We spotted him catching a cab, got the number, and called the cab company to see where he went.”
“Just like on television.”
His cheek twitched, barely avoiding a smile. “Yeah. Just like.”
“Where’d he go?”
“Magazine Street. No address, just asked for Magazine, so they dropped him off around lunchtime. We assume he waited for Miguel, followed him into Furry Godmother, and killed him.”
“So I’m really safe.” I loved the sound of those words.
“I think so,” he said, working his tie loose and unbuttoning the top button on his shirt. “Yes.”
I retold my story of the night’s harrowing events in detail, then did my best to write it out. It was after midnight when I finished. “I guess I should head home. Maybe I’ll open the shop tomorrow. Paige keeps texting me, wanting to come in.”
Jack stretched to his feet. “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to say good-bye to your folks, then follow you home.”
I tossed Grandma’s afghan off my legs and toed off the booties. “You don’t have to do that. I know the way.”
“I don’t mind. You may find it harder than you think to be alone the next few days or weeks. Knowing the bad guy’s in custody is logic, but logic does little to quell fear. Believe me. I know. I think you do, too.”
I couldn’t imagine Jack fearing anything, but he was right. I still dreamed of the monster in that Virginia alley. “Fine. You can follow me home, but don’t try to come inside or I’ll tell my boyfriend.”
He snorted. “Wouldn’t want that.”
* * *
The houses on my street were appropriately quiet. Humidity clung to the ground in a haze beneath my headlights as I bounced over the warped brick road. A colony of bats swooped past the moon, swallowed quickly by the inky darkness. I pulled into my drive and cut the radio. Jack was right. I didn’t like the idea of going inside alone. Imogene’s warning of bad juju and blood on the moon niggled in my mind. I didn’t know what either meant, specifically, but they sounded bad. I unlatched my seatbelt and tried not to see my house as a place where someone could get me alone for nefarious reasons.
I hadn’t been home since the morning. Buttercup was probably worried and hungry—two downsides to having a roommate. Even after a night like mine, someone had to serve the brine shrimp.
Jack parked behind me and climbed out. His gait was tight as he approached my car door.
I popped my door open and planted both feet on the ground. “I thought you weren’t going to try to come inside.”
He turned cold eyes my way and flicked a warning finger in my direction. He slid the opposite hand under the back of his high-end black jacket. A moment later he pointed a gun at my front door.
I slapped both palms over my mouth and tried not to vomit. I yanked my feet back inside the car and locked the door.
He moved onto the porch like a panther, touched my doorknob, and swung the front door open.