I sniffed.
Whew. Who stank.
I really needed to revisit my idea of successful.
Chapter 11
The next morning, I woke up in my own bed for the first time in days. I let myself lay there, cozy in my comfort, trying to ignore my responsibilities. Finally pulling myself from my blankets, I walked to my coffee maker in my tank top and pajamas shorts, reveling in the freedom to wear what I wanted. The bottoms were really plaid-printed booty shorts pretending to be pajamas, that I rationalized wearing because I was in my own house. No one was around to see my cellulite or butt cheeks. My modesty was secure.
Knock. Knock.
Oh no. No, no, no.
I went to my front door and peered out the peephole. No one. Wait. Was that John’s car? And Brecken’s? Maybe. They were common cars. I didn’t see anyone, though. Okay, I was only on my first cup but I knew I heard some—
Knock, knock.
I spun, trying to find the noise. After a few frazzled turns, I had narrowed it down to the back door. I approached carefully, dragging my feet, which seemed to have found the self-preservation instinct that was missing last night.
“Hello?” I tried to call out with confidence, but the shaking in my voice told them everything they needed to know.
“Hey, Lark! It’s John and Brecken. We… need to talk.”
Nope.
“I’m sorry. You have reached Lark’s… automated home… butler. She is away from the house right now. Please leave a message or come back later.” Hey, it was worth a try.
“Lark, open up. Preferably before you try to walk out the front door.”
Well, I had to give it to them. That got my door open so fast I hit my foot when I didn’t move it fast enough.
“Ouch — What do you mean I shouldn’t go out my front door?” I demanded, shaking my injured foot out while I stared at them. John’s eyebrows crept up for a second before his eyes dropped down and then back up as he started… coughing? Or laughing. Or hiding his laughter in a coughing fit, which is where I put my bet. I narrowed my eyes at him before I turned my glare to Brecken. Who was still looking down. At my legs? Why would…
Oh no.
My instinct was to mimic his look, but the part of me that was awake forced my eyes closed. If I didn’t look maybe I could pretend I didn’t just answer my door in booty shorts and a tank top. With no bra.
I had to look.
Screaming, I slammed the door in their faces, one hand clasped against my mouth to stop any other embarrassing sounds and the other across my chest. Fear had the same response as cold. And arousal. Enough said.
Find a leg on my porch? No scream. Answer the door in practically nothing to find the hottest man I have ever seen in real life? Scream. Maybe my mother dropped me on my head as a child.
“What do you mean I shouldn’t go out my front door?” I yelled again through the door, trying to recover from my embarrassment.
“Um… do you think you might put some clothes on? We need to talk.” I was about to open my mouth in agreement when Brecken continued. “And don’t open your front door.”
“You guys realize that now that you’ve said three times not to open my door, I want to open my front door?” Reverse psychology was surprisingly tempting. Now that they had made a big deal about it, I wanted to know what it was.
“I would trust us on this. Don’t.”
“Fine. Give me a minute.”
“Take your time,” Brecken responded.
I paused. “Really? Can I take a shower while you wait out there?” I couldn’t believe that came out of my mouth. Something about Brecken just brought out the imp in me.
“We would prefer if you didn’t,” his response drifted through the door. “It’s a little chilly this morning.”
“Okay. Be right back.”
A few minutes later I had armored myself in the biggest sweatshirt I had, and a pair of loose jeans I kept around for my fat days. I was one chastity belt away from declaring I would never have sex again. Feeling less revealed, I headed back to the back door and opened it.
“Hey,” I greeted.
Both detectives nodded, John with a grin that told me he probably already had texted his wife. Shiitake balls. Brecken was fixated on the door jamb, dedicated to avoiding my gaze. Or at least, I assumed so since I was doing a pretty good job of avoiding his gaze, too.
“Can we come in?” John asked.
“Sure. Coffee?”
“Some of your gourmet coffee?” John asked, his eyes swinging to mine as his smile widened. “I would love some.”
Sigh. Being nice to cops was getting expensive.
“Brecken?”
“Sure,” he grunted, his eyes still looking anywhere but at me.
“You also a masochist like John?”
“Only when desperate. I would love some cream if you have it.”
“Sweet cream work?”
“Perfect.”
I led them into the kitchen and indicated they should sit down while I made three more cups of coffee. This seemed like a two-cup discussion. By the time all the coffee was made and I was sitting at the table, both of my morning cups in front of me, I heard a commotion outside. My head snapped to look at the front of the yard but John stopped me from getting up with a hand on my arm.
“Lark, we need to tell you…” He stopped and just patted my arm for a few seconds.
“For monkey’s ears, John. Just get it out. The situations that are going through my head are giving me a panic attack.” Really, I was having flashbacks to my parents’ deaths. I didn’t know what they had come to tell me, but the phrasing was too similar to the horrible memories.
“You had another delivery. This morning Bryan’s body was delivered to your front yard, behind some of your bushes.”
No one was dead. No one new, at least. Okay. I could handle… wait.
NO.
“Umm. No.”
“We—I’m sorry, did you just say, ‘no’?” John asked, his head tilting in surprise.
“Yep. No. No more deliveries. They were supposed to go to another house. Who could be so stupid to not know that they have the WRONG ADDRESS? Now they are messing with my job. My reputation! No. No more. End it. Today.”
I couldn’t stop myself from standing at the end of my rant. To calm myself, I walked to the sink, only to realize I didn’t have anything in it to clean. The one time I need dirty dishes and I had to be responsible the night before. Taking a deep breath, I turned to face them just in time to catch them sharing a look. One I had seen too many times this week.
“Just spill it. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“There was a note.”
Okay. That wasn’t what I was expecting.
“A note.” That reminded me. I still needed to tell them about Annie’s note.
“Yes. Addressed to you.”
Annie’s note was forgotten. “To me.” Son of a donkey’s uncle.
“Yes.” John sat there waiting for me to speak. I stood there waiting for him to have a punchline. Because that had to be a joke. Our standoff went on for a minute before I gave in.
“I got a note. From the killer. On Bryan’s body.” Even summarized, it didn’t sound good.
“Well, the note is on your front door with a picture of the body and the body is behind your bushes in the front yard, but either way, yes.”
“Okay.” They both stared at me, waiting. “What? Until you tell me what’s in the note, I have nothing to add.” Don’t ask… don’t ask… “Is the picture of the body before the amputations or after? No! Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Okay, I do. No!” Oh goodness gracious. I had gone off my rocker. Completely crazy. I needed to sit down. And slam my head against the table a few times.
“Lark. Are you okay?” Brecken asked, walking towards me with his arms out like he was going to comfort me.
“No!” I glared at them from where I sat in my chair. “Some idiot is leaving me bodie
s! On purpose! Like, here. You look like you need an arm. The killer is like the Oprah of body parts. You get an arm. And you get an arm.” Brecken opened his mouth to speak, and I put my hand up. “I know, I know. I have been the only person to receive body parts. But multiple deliveries should count.” Deep breaths. “Okay. What did it say?”
“Stop involving the cops.”
My brain stopped. Like a car stalling before the engine caught again.
“Are they stupid? Is this a joke? No. They have to be stupid. How would I not involve the police? What? Do they think I’m secretly a ninja? Horse trainer by day, super sleuth at night? Of course I’m going to call the cops! That’s a threat! I’m going to go to the cops for protection. I don’t even know how to punch someone! There’s something about how to make a fist and if you do it wrong, then you can break your thumb, but I don’t know what it is!” At some point I had jumped to my feet again, knocking the chair back as I waved my hands to emphasize my rant.
“Okay, do you want the rest of the note or do you want to yell some more?” John asked.
There’s more?
“Why did you hesitate if there was more?” I asked. Okay. I might have yelled a little, but I tried to ask. It was the thought that counted.
“You didn’t let me. I paused for dramatic effect and then you were off.” John shook his head at me. I was too anxious to sit, so I just stood, my arms crossed, waiting.
“Fine. Go.”
“The note continued, saying, ‘If you don’t get out of the area, you will join your dealer.’”
“My dealer.”
“Yep.”
“They still think I’m Annie?” My voice broke which reminded me to calm down and breathe. Okay. Adult. I was an adult. I trained 1,200-pound animals that find ways to injure themselves in strange and inventive ways frequently. I could handle this. Deal with the threat first.
“Okay, so isn’t this where the young, handsome detective promises to protect me with his life? That he won’t leave my side until I’m safe?” Oh wait. That wasn’t supposed to come out of my mouth. But judging from the faces in front of me, it did. In my mind, I was slapping the back of my head for stupidity. And maybe being a tad bit more honest than I wanted to be.
“Pretty sure that’s you, Brecken,” John volunteered with a chuckle. Brecken and I both glared.
“No! Sorry. My brain goes to sarcasm when stressed. Just ignore that last part.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s a good idea. Brecken, you should stick to Lark like glue.” John laughed at our matching horror.
“NO!” Calm. Staying calm. “I mean, no, Brecken’s too talented to waste following me around. It was a joke. A joke!” Fudge buckets. If he was close to me, I would be tempted to do something stupid. Like kiss him.
Or more. More sounded good. Too good.
Leaving. He was leaving. And eventually the body parts had to stop. They were out of them at this point.
Wait.
They. They would run out.
“Could it be multiple people?”
The detectives looked up at me.
“What do you mean?” Brecken asked. I looked at him, which was a mistake. My previous thoughts flooded my brain, and I averted my eyes, hiding my blush and trying to get the attention off me as quickly as possible.
“Never mind. It was stupid. They are probably just from out of town.” They both stared at me with their eyes wide. “Umm, did I say something?”
“Out of town.”
“She’s right. They have to be from out—”
“Then maybe—” They seemed to be having their own conversation, obviously following some extension of my thought, but I wasn’t privy to it.
“Okay. I’m going to let you talk. Mind if I take a shower?” All I got was an absent hand wave as I left the room. Well. Nice to know they cared about what I was doing. Wait. No. It’s good they don’t care. Not caring is good. I was just going to ignore the sinking feeling that Brecken didn’t care to watch me leave. Attraction. Illogical and powerful. Not what I needed.
This time I packed a suitcase. Once is happenstance. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is enemy action. I was sure my English teacher would be proud of me for thinking of an Ian Fleming quote that quickly. The barn had a living quarters that I used to shower in. I could just stay there. Except that there was no heat. I weighed the benefits and costs between no heat and having to face Jen’s painting for another night.
Wait, they just delivered the body to me. I couldn’t bring this to my barn. To where I worked to pay the bills. Nope. Going to the barn until this was solved was out. I’ll have Missy cover my rides today and take tomorrow as it came. Shiitake Mushrooms. That painting couldn’t be that bad. And I could bring coffee. I’d text Jen later. Or—
No.
Anything but that.
Darn. Staying with Gran for the night made the most sense. Okay, okay. I could do it. I was a mother, self-employed and strong. I could survive my grandmother for one night. But only one.
I stalked out of the bedroom dragging my bag behind me as I took out my anger on the two unaware detectives.
“So, does anyone want to tell me why no one was watching my house last night?” Both detectives looked at me, their mouths open. I doubled down on my comment by crossing my arms and lifting my forehead. “I have to say, this is nothing like the movies. You were supposed to be so worried about my safety, or at least catching the criminal, that you should have been outside all night watching. So? Why was no one out there?”
“Because we figured that no one was stupid enough to deliver body parts to the wrong address three times.”
“Well! You were wrong!”
“I would like to point out that the body was delivered to your front yard this time. So, technically, we weren’t completely wrong,” Brecken said.
Wrong move.
“I’m sorry. I thought you said there was a NOTE ON MY DOOR.” I was yelling again. This was a blatant example of loss of control. Not good.
“Okay, so that might have been a mistake,” Brecken admitted with a one-sided shoulder shrug.
“What’s your next brilliant move?”
“Not telling non-police people what we’re doing,” Brecken answered.
“Yeah, I am going to need more than that. I now have a credible threat against me from a murderer. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m planning to go with the Hallmark movie option.” John, who had been leaning back in his seat, smiling as his gaze hopped between the two of us, threw out that comment. Probably just to escalate the situation for his own amusement. I hope.
“No—”
“Yes. Lark, you are right. You have a—how did you put it? Oh, yeah. Credible threat. You need police protection. For some reason you seem to be in the sights of the killer. Two birds. One stone.”
Son of a biscuit.
I still hadn't told them about Annie’s note. They kept distracting me.
“Um, about two birds—”
“No, Lark. Brecken is going to shadow you all day. The barn should close for the day. You two should go on a date. Be seen around town. See if anyone pays too much attention to you.”
Blink, blink.
Oh, my god. John managed to get me a date by body dump. I don’t know if I should be impressed or horrified.
John sat, relaxing in the chair as he waited, probably for our protests. Which were coming. I knew I had something. Any second now I was going to have a great excuse why I couldn't go on a fake date with Captain America. Any. Second.
“That doesn’t sound… effective?”
John blinked at my attempt as I stumbled to a stop.
“So, I’m going to ignore whatever that was, and say have a great day. Lark, why don’t you leave your truck here? That way we will know how close an eye they’re keeping on the house. Brecken can drive you around.”
Brecken looked like he had swallowed something sour, but he just sat there, not saying a word.
I guess he was in.
“Don’t bother. We can walk.”
“Where are you guys going?” John asked as he interlaced his fingers and grinned.
“We’re going to Nuts.” I turned to grab my purse and bag. “Should we put this in the back of your car?” I asked Brecken.
“Can we circle around again? How are we going nuts?” Brecken looked lost. Completely lost.
“Well, I’m being driven crazy by a murdering body defiler. I don’t know what your excuse is.” My snark had returned. Thank goodness.
“She means you two are going to the Nut Shop,” John answered for me. Killjoy.
“Why?”
“Because this deserves donuts! Come on.” I gestured to get him out the door, but he still stood trying to grasp the puns of small town life.
“No, we really need to go back to why the Nut store had donu—oh. I get it now.”
“If it makes you feel better, they also sell nuts.”
“At what point did a business decide to sell donuts and nuts for a living?”
“One, it’s pastries, not just donuts. And two, the name of the place is Dough & Nuts. Clear, concise, and you know what they sell. Good advertising, I think.”
“You all are crazy.”
“You have no idea,” I replied.
Chapter 12
Leaving Brecken to contemplate the decisions that led him to this wonderfully crazy town, I grabbed what I assumed were his keys and dragged my bag behind me as I headed to the front door. I was concentrating on texting Missy to not come in today and reading the text from my stall cleaner, Billy, that he had found a body this morning when he went to feed. That would teach me to not check my phone first thing. I was concentrating so hard on my phone I almost missed it.
Noises were coming from the other side of the door. Oh sassafras.
“Can I go out the front yet?” I stood at the door, glaring for all I was worth at this new annoyance.
“Nope. We are still processing the note. Take the back door.” With a long exhale, I turned on my heels and walked through the kitchen to the back door, the men watching. John’s smirk seemed to be permanent and inappropriate for the situation, so I gave him my best glare. Since his only reaction was a chuckle, I needed to find a new glare. Mental note — try different glares later in the mirror. There had to be one that worked on unruly policemen.
Leg Up Page 11
