Click. Click. Click. Was that tech looking at Abby Ruth’s boob shots or playing spider solitaire? Finally, she said, “I need to get another picture, Ms. Cady.” From her scrubs pocket, she whipped out two tiny circles printed in a pink leopard-skin pattern. In the center of each was a protruding BB. Put tassels on them and they’d make for some fancy pasties.
“You running a gentlemen’s club here too?” Abby Ruth asked.
“I need to pinpoint your nipples and do this again.” She squinted at Abby Ruth’s boobs and stuck the circles on with precision.
Abby Ruth turned toward Sera and gave her a BB-boobed shimmy.
“Cute.” Sera stepped closer to poke at Abby Ruth’s BBs. “They look like those silver cupcake decorations.”
“If you lick my nipple, I’m going to—”
“Ma’am.” The tech waved Sera back. “I need you to stay behind the barrier.”
Sera obediently stepped back.
Abby Ruth followed the awkward version of Simon Says meets Twister. She even obediently held her breath for the five-count in that godforsaken Panini maker.
Finally, Abby Ruth was done and it was Sera’s turn to tango with the machine. That ought to quiet her snickers.
As they swapped spots, Abby Ruth leaned in and whispered to Sera, “You take your time, and stall her. I’m going back to do more digging.”
Sera gave Abby Ruth a wink. “I’ve got this.” She tossed the paper gown to the floor, then strolled over to the machine for her turn and struck a pose that would’ve done Beyoncé proud. The nurse shot Abby Ruth a panicked look, as if she didn’t know what to make of Sera.
The gal was on her own because no doubt Sera would chat her ear off while Abby Ruth rushed back to dig up more dirt on Angelina.
Chapter 9
After her own mammogram, a few stitches and a lovely painkiller, Maggie lay sprawled out in the back seat of Abby Ruth’s dually with her foot propped up on an ammo box. Outside her window, the trees were such a mellow green and the flowering crepe myrtles danced like pastel-colored ballerinas. Summer Shoals was just so pretty today.
“Cute move with the mammograms,” Abby Ruth said over her shoulder.
Maggie snickered. Then giggled. Then snorted at her own snicker-giggles. “For our own goods.”
“Yeah, right. Regardless, I don’t think your little butterfly bandage plan would’ve done the job on a cut that took five stitches, girl.”
Sera turned and leaned over the seat. “Maggie, you can’t be schlepping around in that septic mess with an open wound. You’ll end up with an infection. Or worse, worms.”
“The worms crawl in. The worms crawl out,” Maggie sang, drifting off into a fit of giggles. “I’ll wear my rubber boots,” she slurred. “It’ll be fine.”
“Those rubber boots will make your feet sweat and then those stitches might dissolve too fast. I think we should let the professionals handle that situation,” Sera said. “It won’t be hard to snoop for Martha. Besides we’d be helping her niece. Good works bring good karma, and we sure could use some of that around Summer Haven right now.”
“She has a point,” Abby Ruth said.
“Did you find anything else when you went snooping in the clinic?” Sera asked Abby Ruth.
“Nothing that would give us leverage with Sparklelina on that inspection,” Abby Ruth said, her voice full of disappointment. “Maggie, that yard won’t fix itself. We need that Martha woman to come through.”
Sera nodded, and Maggie watched as they talked, but most of it sounded like one of those Charlie Brown scenes with the teacher. Muaw muaw muaw muaw muaw.
When they pulled up in front of the house, Abby Ruth hit the brake with her normal zeal, pitching her passengers forward.
Maggie braced herself to keep from landing in the floorboard. Somehow, her arm had turned into a piece of cooked fettuccine so her forehead skimmed the back of the driver’s seat. “No. No Martha snooping. Not happening ’cause I can f…fi…fix stuff.” Maggie fumbled with the door handle. Why had the factory put that thing on upside down? Abby Ruth would be madder than a chipmunk with chapped lips if she found out.
Sera opened the door, and Maggie slid out into her waiting hold. “We know you can fix it, but—”
“No buts. Sera’s got a toned butt. Maggie’s got a fat butt. Abby Ruth’s got a flat butt.”
“She’s three sheets to the wind,” Abby Ruth commented, striding ahead to the front porch.
“I’m glad she’s not feeling any pain,” Sera said. “At least we don’t have to worry about her traipsing around in sewage today.”
“Summer Haven is falling down, falling down, falling down,” Maggie crooned.
Abby Ruth pushed open the front door and just as quickly danced back. “Did y’all hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“I opened the door and I swear this house just burped at me.” She waved a hand in front of her nose. “Worse than a beer belch.”
Maggie pushed past her, only stumbling a little. There it was. A distinct gurgle-swoosh-bwuuurp.
Sera winced. “That can’t be good.”
“I got this.” Maggie followed the demonic sounds to the first floor bathroom. “Pro’ly just a clog.” She leaned over the toilet, watching the water bubble and dance. Like Swan Lake. She reached for the plunger she kept stashed behind the potty, only for her unreliable hand to land on a lush roll of triple-ply quilted paper hanging on the roll.
She wrestled the toilet paper off the holder and tried to stomp out to the foyer, but it came off as more of a mummy shuffle. Still, she shook the TP above her head. “Who in blazes bought thish? Thish stuff is bad, bad, bad.”
Abby Ruth thrust a foot forward, angling her hip aggressively toward Maggie. “My rear feels as red as an orangutan’s ass after using that newsprint you bought.”
“Mine is sep…sep…septic-safe and bio-de-something-or-other,” Maggie said.
Sera slinked off toward the kitchen.
“I’ll take my business elsewhere then,” Abby Ruth said. “My Texas tush can’t abide by that sandpaper.”
“Fine. But take this with you.” Maggie tried to hurl the plush paper at Abby Ruth, but ended up doing a sort of side-arm pitch instead. To her credit, the roll bounced off the side of Abby Ruth’s head and unrolled across the keyboard of the parlor’s piano with a haughty twang.
* * *
With what she could salvage of her super-soft TP after Maggie winged it at her, Abby Ruth strolled into the kitchen. “Maggie has gone nuts!” she said to Sera. “She bounced this right off my head.”
“Is that what I heard?” Sera didn’t look up from the laptop she was tapping on at the kitchen desk.
“Yeah, I swear she’s losing it.”
“Where is she?”
“In the bathroom fussing at the toilet.”
“Think she’s okay to leave alone?”
“Her aim was good,” Abby Ruth said, “so I think she’s fine.”
“That’s a relief.”
Abby Ruth wandered closer to Sera. “What are you up to?”
“Registering for ThePerfectFit.com.” Sera held up a hand. “Look, I’m sorry, but we don’t have time for you to poke around trying to find OnceUponATom using your sources any longer. We have to get inside this thing. Maggie won’t admit she needs help, so I have to do something or Martha won’t have our septic system fixed.”
“Can’t you just hack into the thing and dig up Tom’s deets?”
“It’s not that easy. These sites have security on them, and I’m still learning how to do all this backdoor computer stuff. Better to go through the front door. And apparently, the system doesn’t allow you to search. It generates automatic matches instead. So we could create a profile that will attract Tom based on what we know about him.”
“Which is that he likes paintball. That’s not a lot to go on.”
“We have to start somewhere. Besides, I can do this with Maggie none the wiser. Once I find OnceUponATom
, then we can bring her in on it. She can’t say no then.”
“If one profile is good—” Abby Ruth tapped her chin, “—then three are better.”
“We can’t register Maggie without telling her.”
“Sure we can. Type M-A-G-G-I-E. It’s that simple.”
“Abby Ruth! We shouldn’t—”
“Waste a good opportunity. C’mon, we’ll register her first. For practice.” Abby Ruth pointed at the keyboard. “Then we’ll know the questions and can answer them differently on our profiles. That’ll cast us a wider net so we can snag this guy.”
“Fine, you win.” Sera clicked on a blank box at the top of the registration form and started filling in Maggie’s information. “What’s Maggie’s middle initial?”
“Evelyn, so E, I guess, or maybe it would be R for Rawls. Who cares? Just make one up.” Abby Ruth peered over Sera’s shoulder. “Doesn’t have to be the absolute truth, you know. It’s not like any of us plan to kick up our heels with one of these online losers.”
“They’re not losers, but the average demographic might be a little younger than we are.” Sera backspaced and took a few years off Maggie’s age. “We’ll need old pictures.”
“I have my 1990s byline picture from the paper. That should do. Do you have one?”
“On my hard drive, and I saw some of Maggie in Lil’s scrapbooks. I’ll snap a picture of one of those and upload it.” Sera continued to type, and three pages into the registration, a screen popped up requiring a credit card. “A hundred dollars?” Her mouth hung open. She turned to Abby Ruth. “We can’t spend that much money on dating profiles we don’t even plan to use for ourselves.”
“We have to,” Abby Ruth said. “That muck outside isn’t going to cure itself, and Maggie has done some amazingly handy things around here, but there has to be a limit. I figure three hundred bucks is a bargain for a septic system. I’ll pay for it.”
“That’ll just make Maggie madder.”
“Hell, that’s less than the KOA fees I paid while I was on the road. But I’ll ask Maggie to reimburse me from the house account once we get this OnceUponATom guy pinned down.”
“Then I need a credit card.”
Abby Ruth rattled off her VISA account number.
“Now for Maggie’s screen name.” Sera twirled her hair around her finger. “How about…something with DIY or Virginia?”
“DIY Diva.” After all, Maggie had been acting like a bit of one lately.
“Oh, no. Maggie can’t be a diva. How about a darling? Everyone loves a darling.”
Abby Ruth had never met a man yet who didn’t like calling a woman darlin’. “DIYDarling. That’ll work.”
They worked nonstop to set up the profiles. Sera picked SunnyOutlook for her screen name, and then it was Abby Ruth’s turn to create her account.
“You finish yours.” Sera stood and executed a yoga stretch holding one foot over her head in a way that reminded Abby Ruth of those Cirque du Soleil shows. “I need a potty break.”
“Better go outside or Maggie might start throwing more than toilet paper.” Abby Ruth scooted over to take Sera’s place at the computer and read the first question aloud. “What’s worse? A starving puppy or a starving child?”
Sera quickly dropped her grip on her leg. “I don’t want to be present while you answer that.” And off she darted.
Abby Ruth typed, No reason for either to starve as long as you can hunt. Satisfied with the answer, she moved on to the next one.
* * *
What would be your chosen superpower? Would you use it for good or evil?
X-ray vision. And hell, boy, if you don’t know what I’d use it for, then I’m not interested in dating you.
* * *
Do you have a nickname? If so, what’s the story behind it?
Bibi. And let’s just say that I could get a job as the stripping cowgirl at a gentleman’s club.
* * *
If you were a stalker, would you be really good at it?
Put down the remote, the beer and the bag of BBQ chips. Now, look out your window. Does that answer your question?
* * *
After another sixteen painful questions, she finally made it to the screen name. Nearly done. She thought about it for a second, then typed in TexasTough.
Just as Abby Ruth hit ENTER, Maggie’s rain boots squeaked against the hardwoods.
Crap on a cracker. Abby Ruth typed faster, but she couldn’t close down the page before the credit card processed.
Maggie, looking more sober, stopped right inside the doorway, and leaned against the jamb. “Disaster averted.”
Abby Ruth stood and turned, using her butt as a screen saver. Her smile was fake, but it was wide. “Excellent. Great job.”
About that time, Sera walked in and quickly scoped out the situation. She dodged between Maggie and Abby Ruth, providing another layer of concealment. She rubbed her chest in an exaggerated circle. “Anyone else’s boobs still feel like they haven’t regained their natural shape? Mine may never be the same.”
Maggie popped to her tiptoes. When Sera followed her movement, Maggie poked her head to the side. “What are y’all up to?”
“Nothing.” Both Sera and Abby Ruth said the word at the same time, and even Abby Ruth knew there’d be no dodging the accusation this time.
She pushed away from the computer. “Look. We signed up for that dating site.” No sense pussyfooting around. What was done was done.
“ThePerfectFit.com?” Shoulders drooping, Maggie stared at Sera. “Why? I’m handling Summer Haven’s problems. You two don’t have to…to…pimp yourselves out.”
Sera grabbed her in a hug. “I know, but just in case.”
Maggie looked as if she’d just eaten a bucket of worms. “Well, I’m not doing it. No one will pick me when they could have the likes of y’all. Sera, even on one of your bloaty days, you look like Bo Derek in that movie 10.” Maggie peered at Abby Ruth over Sera’s shoulder. “And Abby Ruth, you rock a pair of skinny jeans better than college girls on those reality TV shows. Me? On my best day, I look like a marshmallow Peeps version of the Michelin man.”
Abby Ruth’s heart clenched a little for her friend. Maggie had that pass-the-funnel-cake look on her face. She had no idea just how attractive a woman she was. All she ever focused on was her weight. But she was talented with any kind of power tool. She was loyal and generous. And she was obviously forgiving. “You have tons to offer a man.”
“No, all I have to offer is love handles…and those haven’t been handled in years.”
The tears in Maggie’s eyes made Abby Ruth want to bolt to another room. She’d never been good at that girlie emotion stuff. “You shouldn’t feel that way about yourself, Mags.”
“Well, I do, and you can’t change it. I can fix that septic problem. My gifts aren’t in the good looks department.”
Sera held out her hand to Maggie. “That’s not true. Your aura is so colorful and you’re a beautiful soul.”
“Yeah,” Maggie said with an air of defeat. “But that stuff is all on the inside.”
Chapter 10
Teague’s computer monitor was filled with a yellow-and-black-themed website with two interlocked metal hearts and the words register now! splashed all over it. Looked more like a Steelers fan site than a dating site. Then again, what the hell did he know about this stuff?
Since that speed-dating fiasco, he’d pulled this page up a dozen times but could never quite pull the trigger. It just seemed a little desperate. And when it came to his thoughts of Jenny Cady, registering for ThePerfectFit felt more than a little disloyal.
What’s it gonna be, Castro?
He could either sit around for the rest of his life pining for a woman he’d done wrong or get on with things and find someone who was less than perfect.
“Sheriff—” the department’s secretary stuck her head inside the door, “—got someone here who wants to talk to you.”
Teague fumbled with his
computer mouse, clicking like an idiot to close down that dating site. “Give me a sec, and then send them in.”
Maybe the interruption was a sign. Maybe he’d been saved from making another mistake that would cost him the woman he loved. He sat there for a minute with his head in his hands. When he heard footsteps outside his office, he took a deep breath and looked up.
And groaned silently.
His visitor was Sue Ellen, a young waitress from the Atlanta Highway Diner who had a habit of flashing her brightly colored bras at him anytime he went in for a blue plate special. So he put on his best serious sheriff expression and said, “What can I help you with today?”
Sue Ellen plopped down in a chair in front of his desk, and no surprise, an eye-blinding yellow bra strapped peeked out from her shirt. “Someone is charging stuff to my credit card.”
Credit card? Shouldn’t there be a law against someone this young running around with plastic money? “Have you called your credit card company?”
“Seriously?” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s one of those automated things. I spent ten minutes trying to talk to a robot voice. I did finally manage to dispute the charges, but it said to contact my local law enforcement. That’s you, right?”
“Sure is.” Teague scooted his chair back and focused on Sue Ellen’s left eyebrow. “I can get someone to take the report for you.”
She smiled and fluttered her lashes. “Can’t you do it for me?”
She’d been uncomfortably attentive to him at the diner, which made this a little awkward. Unfortunately, Barnes was busy filing the monthly reports for him. “I’ll need all the accounts and banks involved.”
“Well, I’ve only used that card on two things in the past six months, and it’s the only credit card I have.” She waved an envelope in his direction.
Fine, he’d hear her out. “Let me see what you’ve got.” Teague reached across his desk for the copy of her bill, which was a mishmash of bright pink highlighter streaks. He took the statement and flipped through it. “These charges in pink? They’re the ones in question?”
Fit to Be Tied Page 7
