Whack The Mole

by Maria Geraci

  It didn’t seem like such a big deal during the daytime, but it’s after ten and pitch black outside. Because The Bistro back parking lot faces the gulf, we can’t keep artificial lights on otherwise it confuses the baby sea turtles. The motion detector light above the kitchen door doesn’t seem like enough protection anymore.

  So, yeah, I’m glad Will followed me.

  I unlock the kitchen door and turn on the lights. “Want to—”

  “Yep,” he says brushing his way past me. “Did you record last night’s episode of America’s Most Vicious Criminals?”

  “Naturally.”

  Even though we both had double helpings of chicken cacciatore, we still stuff ourselves with popcorn while we watch the recording. The episode, featuring a double homicide that took place on board a yacht, is especially gruesome.

  “Why do people use knives?” I say. “I mean, all that stabbing and blood. Yuck.”

  “You prefer your murder less messy?” Will teases.

  I think about Ken Cameron and Mark Rinaldi and how little blood there actually was. One small bullet hole between the eyes and bam! I shudder.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say, still thinking about what I’ve seen this week. El Tigre might be a ruthless killer, but I don’t think his victims suffered before they died. So, there’s that at least.

  We watch all the way to the previews at the end. I get up and stretch, expecting Will to take off, but instead, he goes to my linen closet and pulls out a blanket and a pillow.

  “I’m sleeping on your couch tonight,” he announces. “End of story.”

  Will is sleeping on my living room couch, a fact I’m hyper-aware of because I can’t get to sleep. The man I’ve been lusting after for the past nineteen years (well, technically, it’s only been the last ten that lust was involved) is lying less than twenty feet away from me and the only thing separating us is a paper-thin wall and the sad fact that he only thinks of me as a friend.

  Sometime in the night, I fall asleep. I know this because I semi-wake up in the middle of a horrible dream. At least, I think it’s a dream. And for sure it was horrible because someone was trying to break into my kitchen. Paco was doing his psycho barking and—

  Paco’s wet nose nudges me completely awake.

  He barks, runs around my bed in a circle, then jumps down, urging me with his eyes to follow him.

  I dash out of bed and into the living room.

  “Will, wake up!”

  Paco reinforces this with more of his urgent barking.

  Will shoots off my couch like it’s on fire. He’s barefoot but other than that he’s still wearing all his clothes, which is unfortunate. Living in a beach town, I’ve had the privilege of seeing Will without a shirt on lots of times. But it never gets old. Let’s just say it’s up there with coffee, chocolate, and Netflix.

  Focus, Lucy.

  “What time is it?” he asks wild-eyed. Before I can answer, he looks down at his watch. “Lucy, it’s two in the morning!”

  “There’s…someone in the parking lot.”

  He freezes. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Something woke me up. Paco hears it too.”

  Paco is still barking only now he’s doing this little dance where he’s basically chasing his tail. Not sure what that means but I’ve never seen him do this before. The one thing I am sure of is that he’s trying to tell me something and that something isn’t good.

  “I’ll go take a look,” Will says. “You stay up here. Call the cops.”

  Of course I’m going to call the cops, but there’s no way I’m going to stay up here cowering in my apartment while Will plays caveman and checks this out on his own.

  I ’m about to dial 911 when it occurs to me. This could be El Tigre. Which means I have to keep this on the low down. Or the down low. Whichever.

  I follow Agent Billings instructions and dial Travis.

  He answers on the first ring.

  “I’m on my way,” he says before I can even say anything which I have to admit is pretty reassuring. I hang up and follow Will down the stairs. It’s dark and eerily quiet. He turns on the dining room light but hesitates in front of the door that leads into the kitchen.

  “What exactly did you hear?” he whispers.

  “Footsteps in the parking lot, maybe? I’m not sure.”

  Will blinks the sleep from his eyes. “You heard footsteps in the parking lot while you were upstairs? What do you have? Bionic ears?”

  I roll my eyes. “I know I heard something.” Paco nudges me with his nose again. Now that we’ve come downstairs to investigate, he isn’t barking anymore. He’s glued to my side but whether he’s trying to protect me, or he wants me to protect him, I’m not sure. Either way, I’m glad he’s here.

  Will slowly opens the door. He flips on the light. Everything is exactly the way I left it.

  We look at each other in relief.

  The door that leads to the back parking lot is firmly closed with no signs of a break in.

  Then I hear the noise again.

  Will turns to look at me. Oh God. This isn’t the result of eating too much popcorn last night. I read an article that said carb overload could make you hallucinate. If that’s the case, then I’m in deep doo-doo because the only thing I love more than muffins is bread, but this isn’t my imagination because Will hears it too.

  He walks toward the door like he’s going to open it and see what’s out there.

  “Will, hold on. We should wait till the cops get here.”

  “I’m just going to take a quick look around the parking lot.”

  Will has no idea of the potential danger out there. He doesn’t know anything about the FBI or the mob or El Tigre. He’s like an innocent lamb being led to the slaughter. No way am I about to let that happen.

  I grab the heaviest frying pan I can find. Ironically, it’s the same one used to whack me on the head just a week ago. Good. Having personal experience with this thing I can testify it makes a friggin’ good weapon.

  “No,” I say firmly. “You absolutely cannot open that door. I won’t let you.”

  Will looks startled by the vehemence in my voice. Of the two of us, I’m the one who usually jumps over the cliff with no thought of what lies below.

  “Lucy, do you know something I don’t know?”

  “Actually…yes.”

  Will frowns. “Go on.”

  I know I’m not supposed to tell anyone about El Tigre, but I have to. It’s the only way to keep Will safe.

  “Okay, so—”

  There’s a loud knock on the door startling us both. I’d recognize that knock anywhere. “It’s Travis. Let him in.”

  Will opens the door.

  Travis takes one look at him, barefoot with his hair rumpled, then his gaze shoots over to me. I’m wearing my pink fleece Pac-Man pajama pants and my sweatshirt that says Muffins are NOT ugly cupcakes. I’m also barefoot, and my hair has probably made a trip to crazy town and back. It must look like the two of us have just…

  My face goes hot.

  Will ushers Travis into the kitchen. “Glad to see you, man.”

  Travis, I notice also looks like he’s just woken up. He’s wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt and no socks with his sneakers. It makes me feel a whole lot safer knowing that he literally flew out of bed when I called. He’s also got a gun, which I’m not a big fan of, but in this case, yes, please. “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “Will and I both heard a noise outside in the parking lot.”

  “I notified the team on my way over,” says Travis. “They should be here in ten minutes or less.”

  “Team?” Will says, confused.

  Travis doesn’t miss a beat. “Since there was a dead body found in the dumpster here yesterday we have to assume it could be related.”

  Will nods. “Have they identified the body yet?”

  “I think I hear a car now,” Travis says, smoothly avoiding Will’s quest
ion. Travis catches my gaze, but his expression is guarded. “You two stay here.” He closes the door firmly behind him.

  I run to the front of the café and look out the window. Two dark-colored sedans roll into the parking lot. Agent Billings, followed by the rest of her team, swarm the premises.

  “Looks like I better put on some coffee.”

  Two hours later the FBI team is gone. Will offers to take Paco for a walk, leaving Travis and me alone in the kitchen.

  “You didn’t find anything?” Not that I want them to find anything, but… Correction: I would have been ecstatic if they’d found El Tigre and this whole thing had been resolved. I lower my voice even though there’s no one around to hear. “Not even his signature trademark?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Sorry to have woken you up. But, I could have sworn I heard something.”

  “You were right to call. No worries.”

  “I hate that I got you out of bed for nothing.”

  “It’s my job. I told you, right now I’m on call twenty-four seven until this is resolved.”

  “Well…thank you.”

  I catch him staring at my sweatshirt. A corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh. His gaze slowly goes down to my pink pajama bottoms. “Pac-Man? Isn’t that kind of old school?”

  “It’s making a resurgence.”

  He doesn’t say anything. Which makes me nervous.

  “So, really, thank you. I wish I could make it up to you.” I glance around my kitchen. “How about I make you breakfast? I know you think I just make muffins but—”

  And then it happens.

  Out of nowhere, well, not completely out of nowhere because my Spidey sense warned me this would happen sooner or later, Travis kisses me.

  He cups the back of my head in his big hand, leans down and softly covers my mouth with his. I admit it’s rather lovely. I haven’t kissed a lot of guys before, but I can tell he knows what he’s doing. Patient, but not too patient because just when I begin to feel restless, he urges my mouth open and I get just the tiniest hint of tongue action before he pulls away. Leaving me wanting more.

  The cad.

  This, of course, is an excellent reminder of why I shouldn’t get involved with Travis Fontaine. He’s much too smooth for me. Plus, I’m in love with Will. So, there’s that.

  I try to act very cool and sophisticated like the kiss didn’t affect me at all.

  “Let me know when you’re ready for more of that,” he says like he can see right through my act.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re completely shameless.”

  “In what way?” he asks, amused.

  “I’m…sleeping with another man, and you just waltz into my kitchen and kiss me!”

  “What? You mean Cunningham?” He frowns. “That’s not the vibe I’m getting.”

  “Then your vibe-meter is wrong.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Before I can respond to that outrageous statement, the door opens, and Will and Paco come in from their walk. “Hey,” Will says oblivious to what’s just happened, “anyone want breakfast? I’ll cook.”

  “Travis can’t stay,” I blurt. “He just got another call he needs to respond to. But I’d love breakfast, thank you.”

  At first, Travis doesn’t say anything and for one terrible second, I think he’s going to out our kiss to Will, but then he says, “Sorry to miss breakfast.” He gives me a meaningful look on his way out the door, “Call me if anything else happens.”

  Will waits till Travis is gone. “You okay? You look flushed.”

  “It’s no wonder after all that’s happened tonight.”

  “You sure that’s it? Did Travis find something out there?”

  “No, nothing.” I do not want to talk about Travis anymore, so I fake a big smile. “What about that breakfast you promised?”

  Will makes pancakes and bacon and even squeezes fresh orange juice. I fill up Paco’s bowl with his dog food, and the three of us sit around in the kitchen, Will and me on stools at the counter and Paco at our feet.

  Will waits till my brain is lulled by all the food to say, “I hope this doesn’t ruin your brunch with Mike this morning.”

  Mike who?

  Mike Armandi! I’d completely forgotten all about him.

  It’s official. I am now a ho.

  Will just spent the night.

  Less than an hour ago, Travis kissed me.

  And in… I check the kitchen clock, less than six hours I have a brunch date with Mike.

  Okay, so Will didn’t spend the night in the Biblical sense, which means I’m just a PG-rated ho. But still, three men in less than twelve hours. That has to be a record. At least, it is for me.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be hungry again soon.”

  “Tell me about this Mike guy.”

  I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “He’s just a nice guy who delivers our supplies.”

  “And the two of you are going out, huh?”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think Will was jealous.

  “It’s a first date,” I confess. “We might not get along. We’ll see.”

  “What’s going on, Lucy?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You seem on edge.”

  “Hello! Dead body in my dumpster? Remember? You’re the one who insisted on spending the night to protect me, which, in hindsight was an excellent idea.” Because even though Travis says they didn’t find anything, I still have the niggling suspicion that someone was out in the parking lot.

  “I’ve known you almost all your life. You’re hiding something from me. What is it?”

  “What do you mean? I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Bull.”

  The irony of this moment isn’t lost on me. Will is the only person I’ve never caught in a lie. He’s also the hardest person on the planet to read. Apparently, though, he can see right through me. I feel like I’m in that dream where you’re naked and everyone is staring at you.

  “Before Travis showed up, you were going to tell me something important.”

  True, but that’s because Will was so adamant on checking out the parking lot and I thought El Tigre was out there.

  “So what was it?” he persists.

  I can’t tell him about El Tigre, but I can tell him about Paco. “If I tell you, you’ll laugh.”

  “I would never laugh at you, Lucy.”

  “Paco sees dead people.”

  Will starts chuckling.

  “I’m going to slap you.”

  “I thought we already went through this.”

  When I first found out that Paco’s former name was Cornelius and that the Sunshine Ghost Society thought he was a ghost whisperer, I had the same reaction. But three dead bodies have changed my mind.

  “Yesterday, when I went to take out the trash, Paco already knew there was a dead body inside the dumpster.”

  “Of course he did. Dogs have a keen sense of smell.”

  “But he led to me to straight to Abby!” I say, referencing our first dead body together.

  “Paco was in the rec center when Abby was murdered. He led you to her because he’s a smart dog. Nothing more.” He gentles his voice. “He doesn’t see ghosts. Okay?”

  I’m itching to tell Will how Paco found Ken Cameron’s body. Sure, he’s right about Abby and maybe about dumpster guy, but jumping out a car window and leading me to a dead body through an empty soccer field is no coincidence. Only I can’t tell Will about any of that because I promised Travis to keep it under wraps. Plus, it would probably get me in trouble with the FBI.

  “Prove it,” I say.

  “Prove what?”

  “Prove to me that Paco can’t see ghosts.”

  “You can’t prove a negative.” He clicks his tongue and Paco trots over. “Hey, boy,” he croons, scratching him behind the ears. Paco falls at Will’s feet. Not that I blame him. “He’s just a dog, Lucy. He doesn’t have any kind of special
powers.”

  If I could tell him about Ken Cameron, then he’d believe me, but I can’t, so I’ll just have to keep my mouth shut.

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time we’re done with our early breakfast it’s past six, so Will goes back to his place. Since today is Sunday and my brother is a priest I can’t very well skip church, so after I get ready for my big “date” with Mike, I go to nine a.m. mass. Luckily, it’s a clear day, so nobody gets soaked during my brother’s oh so uncomfortable sermon where he asks for money to repair the roof on St. Perpetua’s.

  Poor Sebastian. He looks as if he’s about to pass out while imploring us to open our hearts and wallets so that everyone can stay dry.

  My parents are at mass. So are Jim and Travis Fontaine.

  Everyone notices that I’m a bit more dressed up than usual.

  “Lucy!” Mom says, “You look wonderful!” I’m wearing mascara and blush and yes, lipstick. I tossed out half my closet onto my bed trying to decide what to wear for this brunch. I’ve always been a T-shirt and jeans girl. Extra points for comfy sneakers, so anything other than a simple skirt and flats is a challenge for me.

  In the end, I selected a flowery dress that I wore to my cousin’s outdoor wedding a few years ago. It’s nice but not too dressy and paired with a light blue sweater and wedge heels, I don’t think I’ll embarrass myself.

  Despite that I’m wearing heels, Travis still towers over me. “You look nice,” he says with just an edge of something in his voice that makes my insides go all gooey.

  No. I refuse to be this weak.

  “Thanks.” I introduce Travis and his dad to my parents. They all shake hands and make polite small talk.

  “So, Travis, are you a member of Young Catholic Singles?” Mom asks. Geez. The way Mom is pushing this group, it’s like she gets a kickback for every member she recruits.

  Travis clears his throat. “No, ma’am, I’m not. I’ve been pretty busy at work since moving here.”

  “We’ve heard,” Dad says, shaking his head. “I have no idea what’s going on in this town. It used to be Whispering Bay was the safest city in America. Not anymore.”