by Nancy Bush
“Guess everybody got what they wanted.” She looked out the passenger window. “So, are you going to the diner after you drop me off?”
“I’d invite you, but you look like death warmed over.”
“If I felt better I’d kick your ass.”
Will laughed and Barb chuckled, too. He threw her a glance, thinking that he didn’t want the sheriff’s job, but he was beginning to like the way things were working out with his partner.
Charlotte ran out of school at the sound of the bell, smack into Robbie Bereth, who was making a beeline for his bike. They both stopped short, staring at each other.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Charlotte blurted.
Robbie turned away. For a moment Charlotte thought he might be mad, but as he flung a leg over his bike she saw his mouth was quivering.
“You need any homework help?” she yelled after him. “I’m good.”
He slowed down, throwing a foot out to drag across the asphalt. Glancing back at her, he said, “I suck at math.”
“I got an A plus on the last test.”
He thought that over, then asked belligerently, “You gonna make me give you my bike?”
Charlotte glared at him. Boys were so dumb! “I never wanted your bike,” she declared. “I was just mad. I was going to help you for free!”
“Why?”
“Because I was a butt-hole.”
Her terminology brought a smile to his face. “You were a butt-hole,” he agreed. Then he flung his leg back over the bike and peddled off, yelling, “Come over later, butt-hole.”
Charlotte smiled in satisfaction. She didn’t have to like Robbie much, but she could help him and maybe he’d get over the fact that she really had been pretty shitty to him.
“Charlotte?”
She started guiltily. She hoped she hadn’t said that word out loud. Turning, she said, “Yes?” cautiously, to Penelope Messerlin’s mom. Penelope was looking kind of worried that her mom was even talking to Charlotte.
“Would you like a ride? Penelope and I are going to LuLu’s for some cobbler and ice cream.”
Penelope’s thin face looked pinched, like she was going to cry.
“I would love it,” Charlotte said with a big grin. “Thank you very much!”
Gemma untied her apron and hung it up, glancing over at Milo, who tended to slide his gaze away ever since she’d predicted Shirl’s pregnancy. She pressed her lips together. She was going to have to make some decisions about embracing her talents, or at least learning to accept them.
“You going home?” Macie asked. Today the eye shadow was an odd mauve color. Her face looked years older since the news about Heather had come through. They were all suffering a kind of depression that wouldn’t lift.
“After Will stops by.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “Sometimes I got the gift, too, y’know.”
“Okay.” Gemma smiled faintly.
“You’re going to that little town on the coast and learning about your sister and you. And you want to find your momma. Your real one.”
“Actually, I was deciding whether to see Davinia Noack and Allie Bolt. They’ve been hounding me.”
“Same thing,” Macie said. “Gotta figure out the past before you can face the future.”
“Good thing you’re not giving any readings.”
Macie just waved her off. Gemma glanced over the heads of the few customers in the restaurant to the parking lot outside. The clouds were steel gray, threatening precipitation. She saw Will’s Jeep Cherokee pull in and she waited for him to come in the door.
When he did, he brought a swirl of cold air with him and a dash of rain. She said, very clearly, “You’re thinking about marrying me even though I’m a strange, psychic nutcase.”
“Actually, I was thinking about peach cobbler.”
Gemma’s brows lifted. “Really.”
He laughed. “You got it right the first time.”
From the back of the kitchen Milo started laughing like he’d never stop. Macie joined him, the release of tension like a cool welcome breeze.
“The answer is yes, Detective Tanninger. But first…”
“A trip to Deception Bay.”
Gemma nodded slowly. Maybe she would learn something more. Maybe she wouldn’t.
But she had found Will.
And that was more than enough.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2009 by Nancy Bush
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 1-4201-0979-0
