Damn. So close and yet so far.
“But,” he said, “we have another option. Gimme a sec to download SQLMap.”
“What’s that?” Sera asked.
“Utility to hack vulnerable databases.”
“Oh,” Maggie leaned closer to Bruce, “that sounds fascinating.”
Abby Ruth shot her a narrow look. Maggie had no more idea what the hell that meant than she did.
Bruce’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Gotcha, you little bas—” His face reddened, and Abby Ruth could almost see possible cuss words scrolling across his forehead. “Basket weaver?”
Sera bounced on her tiptoes and clapped. “Bruce saves the day.”
The guy blushed from his bow tie up to his moderately receding hairline. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Do you mind?” Sera nudged him over to wiggle her skinny behind onto the love seat, forcing Bruce almost into Maggie’s lap. “I need to look at the records.”
“Well, this is interesting,” she said after only a minute or two of scrolling.
“We don’t need interesting,” Abby Ruth said. “We need answers.”
Sera said, “I can tell you that about fifty of the male profiles in this thing are using the same email address, including Tom, Dan, and the guy who asked me out and cancelled.”
“What does that mean?” Maggie asked.
“It means,” Sera announced, “that our guy has been stacking ThePerfectFit deck.”
Chapter 23
Maggie sat in the back seat on the short ride to Summer Haven, staring out the window at the passing scenery while Abby Ruth and Sera uttered not a word from the front seat. It was as though they were all shell-shocked by what they’d discovered. DanOfYourDreams and OnceUponATom were the same man.
One bad apple was one thing.
But most of this orchard was rotten.
And Maggie felt as if she’d been duped most of all. What the heck was that guy up to? He’d made her feel special.
And now to find out he was probably doing the same with lots of other women in his database harem? Wrong, wrong, wrong.
If it weren’t for all that stinkin’ septic mess, she’d love to turn her back and pretend this whole online dating fiasco had never happened. But to put their potty problem to rest, they needed Martha’s septic guy. And that meant they had to tie up loose ends and bring down DanTom.
“Big Martha’s bad feeling about this guy was spot-on, but I don’t think she’ll be satisfied with what we know so far,” Maggie finally said. “She’ll want to know exactly who her niece is involved with.”
Abby Ruth parked, and they all trooped up to the front porch. Sera immediately dropped cross-legged in front of two rockers.
“If we have to find out who The Perfect Fit guy is, then Maggie has to be the bait.” Abby Ruth settled into one of the chairs, and Maggie followed suit.
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the one he likes.”
“Me, Martha’s niece, and maybe a hundred others,” Maggie said, because who knew how many other women that guy had boondoggled? “Why he didn’t show up for a date with Sera is beyond me.”
Abby Ruth frowned and finger-drummed the rocker’s arms.
“Or you, for that matter,” Maggie quickly added. “But the important thing now is to figure out how we get this guy to show his face.”
“He’s been awfully careful,” Sera said, pulling her knees up in front of her and hugging them. “What’s that hanging from your shirt?”
Maggie tugged at the open hemline of her shirt. “Oh?” She tugged on the plastic holder that still hung from the placket. “I guess I forgot to turn in my visitor pass when we visited Lil earlier. Great, I’ll probably be on some blacklist for doing that.”
“I’ll put it in a safe place.” Sera held out her hand for the badge. “That way, we can concentrate on what’s important right now. Like you asking DanOfYourDreams out on a date.”
Maggie felt the blood drain from her face. “I…I’ve never done that in my life.”
“All you have to do is private message him on the site. I’ll help you.”
“Say I do that,” Maggie said, “but what kind of date?”
“Obviously has to be something where he can hide his face,” Abby Ruth said.
“Motorcycle riding?” Sera suggested.
Abby Ruth busted out laughing. “I can’t see Maggie doing that.”
Maggie glared at her. Why didn’t this woman believe Maggie had an adventurous bone in her body? “I’ll have you know I rode a mini bike once when I was twelve.”
“Not the same thing.”
“Fencing?” Maggie brightened. “I took fencing in college. I was actually quite good.”
Sera clapped. “That could work, and those outfits are so cute. I’ve always wanted to try that.” She leapt to her feet and struck an en garde stance.
“Nice form, but what’s that rattling in your pocket?” Maggie asked.
Sera looked as if she’d been caught stealing, her shoulders hunched and her gaze averted.
“Sera?”
“Fine,” she finally said. “We’ve known each other this long. I can’t hide it any longer.”
Oh, no. Maggie couldn’t take any more surprises or bad news today.
Sera slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a bright green box. Mike and Ike’s? What was so bad about candy? “You’ve been hiding chewy fruit bites?”
“They’re full of sugar,” Sera said, her tone apologetic.
“Yes,” Abby Ruth said, “that’s normally how candy’s made.”
But it wasn’t the kind of vice Maggie expected from Sera.
“Maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad about it if I shared them. Hold out your hands.” Sera shook generous portions of the colorful candies into their palms.
Maggie popped a red one into her mouth. Cherry. Oh, yes, she was already feeling better.
Unsurprisingly, Abby Ruth chowed down on a handful, swallowed and finally said. “So back to this fencing thing. Where in God’s name could you go fencing in Summer Shoals, Georgia?”
“Good point.” Maggie carefully selected a lemon flavored piece that created a pleasant puckering sensation in her mouth. She said to Sera, “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us with these.”
“Sorry. I can’t help myself. When I was a kid, I’d change costumes and trick-or-treat multiple times to build a stash that would last for months. All year, I looked forward to Halloween.”
“That’s it!” Maggie held out her hand for another hit of candy. “Halloween. We’ll invite him to the masquerade party. I can invite DanOfYourDreams. It’ll fit his M.O.”
Abby Ruth cleared her throat. “That party is at the bus barn, isn’t it? We’ll never be able to control the situation there, and we can’t have another party here. Portable potties for my party was one thing, but we can’t have half the town here and keep that mess in the front yard a secret.”
“True. Where can we have it?”
“The ball field?” Sera asked.
“The Ruritan Club?” Maggie offered.
“Nope. We need a spot where we can corner him,” Abby Ruth said. “Both of those places are wide open. He’d get away.”
“Angelina’s house,” Sera said. “She has that big fence around both the B&B’s and her backyard all the way down to the river. One way in and one way out.”
A party at Angelina’s? Oh yeah, that idea would go over like a hot air balloon filled with cinder blocks. “That’s a horrible idea. You do remember that Angelina isn’t our biggest fan, right?”
“What some might see as a challenge,” Sera said, “I see as an opportunity.”
Abby Ruth rubbed her chin with one finger. “The idea has some real merit. A party at Angelina’s could work in our favor. She’d stay busy with decorations and whatnot while Martha’s guy fixes this damn septic system.”
Dang it, they were right. “Sera’s best at persuading people t
o do things.”
“Thank you, Maggie,” Sera said. “But what we need here are negotiating skills and maybe a slice of humble pie. I think Abby Ruth should be the one to talk her into it…well, we’ll make her think it’s all her idea.”
“You really are a sneak,” Maggie said.
“What?” Abby Ruth squawked. “You want me to talk to her? You do remember she thinks I tried to kidnap her kid, right?”
“Sometimes,” Sera told her with a smile, “catching people off guard is a very good way to get exactly what you want. She’ll see the request as a peace offering, or she’ll want to steal your thunder. Either way, we win.”
“Which could not only help us catch DanTom,” Maggie said, “but would also soften up Angelina for the inspection.”
“You’re both crazier than Cooter Brown with two jugs of moonshine,” Abby Ruth said. “Besides how do we get people to come to our party instead of the one they go to every year?”
Maggie pulled a wrench out of her back pocket. “I think I can handle it, with a little help from my friend.”
“I don’t even want to know what you’re going to do, Mags.” Abby Ruth pinned them with her trademark stare. “And Sera, don’t think I won’t remember this the next time I want something from you.”
“After Maggie and I lure DanTom to the party—” Sera gave Abby Ruth an exaggerated wink, “—sugar, you’ll be thanking me.”
* * *
Abby Ruth sat in her truck, parked on Pecan Orchard Street, looking down at the layer cake in her passenger seat. Happy retirement, Sully. Too damn bad for him that someone had forgotten to pick up his cake yesterday. But she’d scored it at half price from the grocery store a few minutes ago.
Offering any kind of gift, aka bribe, to Angelina still got Abby Ruth’s hackles up. But if buttercream frosting would butter up that uptight woman, then it would be worth the $12.63 Abby Ruth had paid for the damned cake.
She scooped up the round plastic container and jumped down from the truck. Unfortunately, she landed in a pothole and tightened her grip on the cake holder in her struggle to find her footing. Well, apparently her barely-big-enough-for-the-Panini-press breasts were good for something. Because they’d squashed Sully’s good tidings into an unreadable smear of blue frosting. Even better.
The Broussards lived in a Victorian house that matched the one beside it. The only difference was the house was painted in pink and trimmed in blue, while the bed and breakfast Angelina owned was just the opposite.
Reminded Abby Ruth of twins whose mother had the annoying habit of dressing her kids alike.
She prayed Angelina wouldn’t answer the door. Maybe she’d taken Booger to the batting cage, and that would be the end of this plan.
Abby Ruth stomped up the stairs and pressed the doorbell. A few minutes later, little Ben—aka Booger—came to the door. When he saw her, his skinny little face lit up. “Please tell me you’re here to take me to the batting cages.”
If only. “Not today. I’m actually here to see your mom.”
“Damn.”
She felt sure that word wasn’t on Angelina’s approved list, but she sure wasn’t going to ding the kid for it. After all, he’d used it in perfect context.
“Booger,” Angelina called from somewhere else in the house, “I’m not hearing the piano. Why is that?”
“C’mon in,” he said to Abby Ruth, a full-on sulk clear in his voice. Then he hollered, “Mom, company’s here.”
“I wasn’t expecting…” Angelina, wearing leggings and a purple tunic-type top, swung into view on the stair landing on the second floor. “Abby Ruth?” Her face was tight, suspicious, as she descended the stairs. “Booger, you need to get back to your practice.”
“But, Mo-o-om, Miz Abby Ruth has cake.”
“Those show tunes won’t learn themselves.”
It took every bit of Abby Ruth’s mental stamina to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head like two marbles. As soon as they had this masquerade and DanOfYourDreams stuff settled, she would call her financial advisor in Houston and have a custodial account set up for Ben Broussard. Five thousand probably wouldn’t be enough for the amount of counseling the kid would need, but that was all she could transfer out of her retirement fund without getting dinged by penalties.
He plodded out of the room, then the sound of multiple piano keys being flattened simultaneously bonged through the foyer.
Angelina looked Abby Ruth up and down as though calculating the odds that she’d shake like a wet dog and ruin the silvery wallpaper and spindly side table by the front door. “This is certainly a surprise visit.”
Abby Ruth shoved the cake into Angelina’s arms. “This is for you.”
“I didn’t know you baked…” She glanced down at the mangled mess of frosting now clinging to the plastic top. “Well, I suppose you want coffee with this.”
She sure could go for a stiff shot of Jameson in that coffee, but she forced herself to say, “That would be great.”
Angelina’s kitchen was actually a warm space with painted cabinets and a center island surrounded by barstools. “Make yourself at home,” she said.
While Abby Ruth settled on a stool, Angelina fiddled with one of those single-brew coffeemakers. Maybe they needed one of those out at Summer Haven. Sure would make those afternoon pick-me-ups convenient.
“How do you like yours?”
“To go” was what she wanted to say, but she pasted a demure smile on her face and said, “Black.”
A few minutes later, Angelina carried two mugs to the island and handed one to Abby Ruth. Rather than taking a stool, however, she stood studying Abby Ruth over the rim of her cup. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the cake and coffee kind.”
Abby Ruth flicked a quick look at the cake that Angelina had placed on the countertop across the room. A big piece of that sure would make the crow she was about to eat go down a little sweeter. But then again, she wasn’t one to fiddle-faddle around. “Did you hear about the bus barn?”
“Um…” Angelina’s eyes widened and her gaze darted all over the kitchen. She wanted to say yes, Abby Ruth knew it, but she couldn’t have heard about something Maggie was likely setting into motion right this minute.
“The PTO has to cancel tomorrow night’s Halloween party. Someone left the water on and the whole place is a flooded mess. Shame of it is so many kids already had their costumes.” Abby Ruth shook her head, using every bit of her college dramatic training to convince Angelina she was heartbroken too. “Don’t you agree that’s a crying shame?”
“Booger looks forward to it every year.”
Abby Ruth gazed up at the ceiling and snapped her fingers as though she was counting through the many ideas in her head and had just hit upon something perfect. “What if we put together a masquerade party? And not just for the kids, but a shindig the adults would enjoy.”
Angelina sipped once, then set down her cup. “You want to put together a party for the entire town in one day? That’s impossible.”
“From what I’ve heard, they’ve pulled off last-minute events at Summer Haven a number of times, what with Lillian being Summer Shoals’ hostess with the mostest.”
“I thought you said she was on an extended vacation.”
“That’s just the thing. Since the town’s social director is out of pocket and time is short, we were wondering if you’d be willing to do some of the behind the scenes work.”
Angelina stiffened. “You want me to serve as some kind of…of…flunky for a party hosted at Summer Haven?”
“Well, we sure wouldn’t want to disappoint Booger and the other kids, now would it?”
By now, Angelina’s hand was clenching around her coffee cup like one of those robot claw toys Grayson loved. “I think Summer Haven gets more than its share of the limelight around here. And it seems a little ambitious for y’all to host something like that so close to inspection time.” She sniffed and tossed her hair. “But I’m not the party police.”
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No, just the historic register Gestapo. “Great. So I can tell Maggie and Sera you’re on board?”
“Absolutely not,” Angelina snapped. “If I’m hosting an event, it will happen in the B&B’s backyard. With the landscaping and the river flowing at the property line, it’s the perfect place for a party.”
That had been way easier than Abby Ruth had expected. Angelina had taken the cake ball bait like a hungry catfish. “True, but only if think you can handle such a big event on such a short timeframe.”
“Oh, I can handle it,” Angelina said. “But if you want this party so darned bad, then I expect you to help me.”
Abby Ruth stood and dusted at the seat of her pants. “I can ask Maggie and Sera—”
“No, Abby Ruth,” Angelina said with a smile that would make angels curl up and bawl, “if I’m hosting this party, then I want you to help me.”
And what in three hells did she know about throwing a party? Sure, she could do a ballgame get-together with beer and peanuts any day of the week. But people at these things expected food made to look like eyeballs and guts and crap.
She might not care one way or another if Summer Haven was on that Christmas house tour, but she’d come to love the estate. And if this was what she had to do for Summer Haven, she’d suck it up and pitch in. “I’m not much of a party planner.”
“Oh, I’ll take care of all that,” Angelina assured her. “But I’ll need your help setting up tomorrow.”
That didn’t sound too bad. “Deal.” Abby Ruth pushed off the stool, figuring they were done.
Before she could take a step, Angelina said, “But I do have one stipulation.”
Abby Ruth’s bowels froze into a Popsicle.
“Booger’s all-time favorite movie happens to be The Wizard of Oz.”
Even as a grown-up, Abby Ruth found that film a little creepy, but hell, the kid did live with Angelina, so it probably looked like a pleasant fairy tale to him. “You don’t say.”
“A few years ago, I bought a costume, but it’s much too long for me.” Angelina stepped back and sized Abby Ruth up from head to toe. “But I think it would fit you just right.”
Fit to Be Tied Page 20
