Teased to Death (Misty Newman 1)

by Gina LaManna

  "I've said all I had to say." I gave Donna a look that said "let's go," and I started walking toward the door.

  "Wait," Alfie said, raising a hand. "I was here. I promise you. Don't tell anyone—he can vouch for me." Alfie nodded at Merlin, who bowed his head as if he was wishing for the zillionth time he'd stayed at home today.

  I spun slowly back to face Alfie. "You were here…when you were supposed to be working?"

  Alfie looked miserable, and I almost felt bad. Maybe I'd ease up on him after getting the info I needed. "Please don't say anything. I could get in serious trouble."

  "Yes, you could." I nodded solemnly. "Why were you here?"

  "This costume doesn't make itself." Alfie glanced down at his Superman attire.

  He was right. It looked like a five-year-old might have crafted it. At least Merlin's robe looked like it was made from some high-quality fabrics.

  "Donna. Phone," I whispered. It was loud enough that I was certain everyone in the room could hear me.

  "What do you need a phone for?" Alfie stared at the iPhone Donna handed over, as if it were a bomb instead of a pink-cased cell.

  "What do you think I need it for?" I asked, raising it as if I were about to dial a number. What Alfie couldn't see, was that the lock screen was still on, and I could only access the emergency dial and the camera. I chose the latter. It'd probably be faster.

  "Don't call, please," Alfie pleaded. "I'll help you. Tell me what you need."

  I hesitated, first taking a moment to snap a picture. I'd tried to be subtle, but failed miserably. The flash exploded brightly, and Merlin bent in half, shielding his eyes with his robe sleeves.

  "What was that for?" Alfie asked.

  "Insurance." I glanced down at the picture of Superman. It would do. It would more than do. "You're right. I need information. You can help, or…"

  Alfie stared in horror as I waggled the phone back and forth. "You wouldn't."

  "It's already in the cloud, so don't you dare try to steal this phone. It'll only make things worse." It was a lie. I didn't have access to any sort of cloud, but he didn't need to know. "Plus, it doesn't explain why you didn't answer a call this afternoon or where you were when my house was broken into today."

  "Then why do you need the photo? My life is ruined either way. If I don't have an alibi, everyone will assume I broke into your house—you don't even have anything to steal! If I tell everyone where I was, I'm the weirdo who's into cosplay. Little Lake doesn't understand my type. My life is over."

  "But just to be clear, I do have some stuff to steal," I added.

  Both Alfie and Donna looked at me.

  "All right, all right," I said, raising my hands. "I don't. But I understand what you mean when you say Little Lake doesn't understand your type. Do you think it was easy trying to start up my burlesque studio here?"

  Alfie fell silent.

  "I know how it is to be different," I said softly. I shook my head. "I couldn't even advertise my class in the church bulletin. But listen, Alfie. I don't want to get you in trouble. You help me, and I help get you out of this mess. No blackmail. No alibi. It just goes away."

  "How?" he wailed.

  I thought for a moment, and even Merlin leaned in a bit closer, his pointy nose pretending not to be paying attention, but his ears clearly listening.

  "I thought it was you breaking into my house because I caught you in my office earlier, and you had on this huge backpack. Plus, my fishnet drawer was all askew. When I chased someone away from my home later the same night, it was the logical conclusion to draw. Especially when the intruder drove a cop car away from the scene. He didn't touch anything except for my fishnets again."

  Alfie hung his head. "I know that I didn't do it, and it still looks bad for me from the outside."

  "I will vouch for your alibi and not tell anyone the exact details of it. Your name won't be brought up in conjunction with the burglary anymore if you can give me some info on Anthony Jenkins." I put my hands on my hips. "No info, and this picture goes out to Donna's thousand Facebook friends."

  "Two hundred," Donna corrected. "There's hardly a thousand people to be friends with in this town."

  "Shh, that doesn't matter." I shook my head. "Everyone will see it."

  Alfie looked up at Merlin with an ashamed look skittering across his face. Father Olaf looked down his nose with that judgmental stare.

  "He's…uh, I can't speak about members of the Society." Alfie faltered.

  "Fine." I pretended to press a few buttons on the phone that might upload a photo to social media. In reality, I was dialing the number for Pizza Hut on the lock screen and deleting it over and over again.

  "Merlin, please, may I?" Alfie asked. "Let me speak of the Society's business just this once."

  Father Olaf pondered Alfie's begging for a moment.

  "Oh, come on. You're in the background of the picture," I said to Father Olaf. If he wasn't doing anything wrong, then I didn't mind one way or another if the priest enjoyed the comic store. But even so, I didn't think it'd be good for his reputation if word got out.

  Merlin looked slightly peeved at my perceived threat. But then he sighed, and as if he'd come to the decision alone, he turned to Alfie. "You may speak of Anthony Jenkins, but only because he disobeyed the rules of the Society before he passed."

  "So Anthony was a member of the Society?" I pressed.

  Alfie looked up at Merlin, who nodded his head solemnly.

  "Yes." Alfie's voice shook. "Anthony was a member of the Society. At least, until…until the very end. He was on his way out."

  "Out of what?" I asked.

  "The Society. He disobeyed the rules."

  "How so?"

  "He…he fraternized with one of the girls."

  I raised my eyebrow at Donna. "You guys have girls in here?"

  "That's who you thought we were when you walked in," Donna said. "But wait a second—who did you think we were?"

  Merlin shook his head, but more out of disappointment than anything else.

  "Girls. They come in most nights we're open. There's about four of them on any given night, and they rotate between about eight total." Alfie's cheeks turned pink.

  "What do they do?" I asked. "Father Olaf…you're not allowed…"

  "Merlin never participates," Alfie jumped in. "It's only the rest of us involved in this aspect."

  "What activities?" I asked.

  "It's not what you think," Merlin said.

  "It's cosplay." Alfie stood up, reclaiming the spotlight. "Costume play. The girls come dressed in intricate costumes of various anime, comic book, and other characters. They're paid to play a role."

  "What does this have to do with Anthony getting kicked out?"

  "Well, the girls…they're paid to be here only for the cosplay role. There's nothing…intimate in nature whatsoever," Alfie whispered and looked away from Father Olaf. "They're merely playing their part for the Society."

  "Strange," I said. "But go on."

  "Anthony, he took it too far. We found out a few weeks ago that he had been fraternizing with one of the girls. That's not allowed."

  "Plus, he was married," I added, but at the same time, I felt a trickle of hope. I was getting closer to finding out who might have wanted Anthony dead. "Who was the girl?"

  "That's the thing." Alfie hesitated. "The girls are required to come in costume with masks covering their faces. We don't know their identities."

  "What about the people hiring them? Doesn't that person know?" Donna asked.

  "It's cash only. No names."

  "How do you get hold of them?" I asked. There had to be a way to track these girls down.

  "We send out emails to their Gmail accounts." Alfie held up a hand. "Before you ask, they're all fake ones created for the purpose of this business venture."

  "So you know absolutely nothing about these women you invite into your Society to play the role of a superhero?" I couldn't help the incredulousness creeping into my v
oice.

  "It would ruin the ambiance." Alfie crossed his arms. "I don't want to know Wonder Woman bags groceries at Walmart during the day."

  I nodded. "I see your point."

  Donna sat in the chair next to me. "So you really don't have much to help us out with Anthony, except he was cheating on his wife, which we already knew."

  I passed the phone back to Donna, who smiled as she glanced at Alfie's photo. "That's a great pic, isn't it?"

  "I have one photo of the girl. Anthony's girl," Alfie burst out. "It's not allowed, I know. I'm sorry Merlin, but she looked incredible as Catwoman."

  "Now we're talking," I said.

  Alfie slipped his phone out of his pocket, thumbed through a few rows of photos, and eventually held one up to us. There were three people in the photo: Alfie, the girl in question, and the back of Anthony's head. Alfie had a cheesy grin on his face and his arm around the waist of the female, who was at least six inches taller than him in her heels. But the woman's gaze lovingly rested on Anthony.

  She had a great body, in Alfie's defense, and made Catwoman look cute. Her costume was skimpy but detailed, her face disguised behind a large Venetian mask.

  "She looks a little familiar." I squinted. "It's hard to say though. I've got the best view of her legs, which isn't usually my main focus on women."

  "Of course she looks familiar," Alfie snapped. "She's beautiful, and she's a local. You've seen her somewhere, but that's why we don't do names or faces. We don't want to think too hard about who these girls are in real life. Yes, I realize that sounds bad, but if the girl is going home to tuck three kids into bed after a night of cosplay, it takes some of the magic out of it for us. The reason any of us are part of the Society is to suspend our disbelief and believe in the stories once more."

  There was something almost endearing about the ferocity with which Alfie spoke. It reminded me of how children defended Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny to nonbelievers.

  "Well, I'm sorry to ruin your magic," Donna said. "But this time it's a matter of life or death. If this girl comes back, let us know. We need to talk to her."

  "It'll cost you," Alfie said.

  "No, it won't." I stood up. "I'm going to tell the cops you were nowhere near my house this afternoon, and they shouldn't even mention a thing about it to you. The second I hear you didn't keep your promise to call us about this girl, I'll be calling the cops and rescinding my story. I'll have a sudden epiphany and remember it clearly."

  "That's not fair." Alfie glared at me. "Plus, I am the cops."

  "Exactly. Part of the reason you've promised to call us."

  "I haven't promised."

  "You will." I didn't break eye contact with him. "Come on, Alfie. This doesn't have to be difficult."

  "Fine." He glared back at me. "I'll call you if she comes back."

  "And I'll do my best to hold her up unsuspiciously until you arrive, Misty," I prompted.

  "I promise," Alfie said. "Now, don't you have some kids to go tuck into bed?"

  "As a matter of fact, we do." Donna stood up and marched toward the entrance. I followed suit. "Alfie, we'll be in touch."

  As Donna and I stepped into the alley, the door behind us snapped shut as quickly as it'd popped open.

  "Well, that was an adventure." I smiled.

  "Exhilarating. You've bribed a wizard and a cop into giving you information today. I'm not sure if I should be impressed or terrified." Donna's face was flushed and bright. "Now, let's go rescue Jax."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "Where's Uncle Jax?" Donna called as we entered the house to a suspicious quiet.

  A giggle erupted from underneath a couch cushion. "Shhh, Mommy. We're playing hide-and-seek. Alec is counting."

  "Mmm. Is Jax hiding?" Donna asked to the wiggling pillow in the corner of the couch.

  "Yes, Mom. That's how you play. Duh."

  "Silly me." Donna gave me eyes. She lowered her voice. "He's probably locked in the bathroom with a beer."

  I grinned. "I'm gonna go find Harmony. It's about time we get going. Thanks again for everything you've done for me tonight. And since I've been back. I really appreciate it."

  "It's no problem at all," Donna said, walking over toward the couch and fake sitting on the cushion. Said cushion emitted a loud fart, and Donna leapt right back up amid gales of laughter from the closet behind the staircase. "My goodness, that is a squeaky couch."

  "It's not a couch, Mom," said the closet.

  I slipped away, keeping an eye out for partially ajar doors, breathing curtains, and sniffling blankets. I was ninety-five percent certain that I'd identified all of Donna's kids by some sort of movement and/or noise, but Harmony was a very clever hider. I had the guest bedroom upstairs and the bathroom downstairs left to scour before I returned to the kitchen and waited her out.

  I pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and muttered a quiet "Gotcha!" A lump of carefully crafted pillows and blankets moved slowly up and down with the rhythm of a person's breathing.

  Sneaking forward as quietly as possible, I positioned myself so that I could climb on top of Harmony and tickle her until she squealed. But there were so many pillows on the figure it was hard to tell exactly where my sister's head began and her feet ended. I didn't want to squash her on accident.

  "Found you, cutie pie." I leapt onto the bed, throwing aside a pillow and diving in for the tickles.

  But instead of a tiny child's body, my hands came into contact with a solid, firm chest with way more muscle than belonged on a nine-year-old body. And definitely way more chest hair, which I could feel through the soft fabric of his shirt.

  I stumbled backward, a bit surprised. Though now that I thought about it, I hadn't factored Jax into my number count when I'd noted all the other hiders. I'd figured he was, as Donna suggested, locked in the downstairs bathroom sipping his beer and reading the paper.

  Before I completely tumbled from the bed, two muscular arms snaked out from under a flowery blanket and drew me back into to the fluffy pile.

  "Can it, or they'll find us," Jax whispered, his breath hot against my ear. Despite the layers of blankets and pillows and whatever else he'd piled on the bed, a chill coursed through my veins, goose bumps pricking my legs.

  "You take your hide-and-seek seriously," I said.

  "I don't like to lose, and your sister is a genius at this game."

  "She learns from the best."

  "Really?" Jax put his hand behind my neck and pulled me in close. "Does the best keep yapping for the whole game so she can get caught?"

  I closed my mouth but hissed through barely parted lips. "I'm not yapping."

  "You're pricking me."

  "With what?" I looked down. My leg had become entangled with his in the messy pile of sheets and limbs. "Ooops. It's not my fault I didn't have time to shave today, since someone broke into my house and interrupted my shower."

  "Keep it down. Keep it down." Jax pressed a finger to my lips. "Let's not sabotage the entire game."

  I rolled my eyes, but I stopped talking. A part of me didn't want the game to end. After the last couple of days, I'd been looking over my shoulder left and right, not sure which shadows to run from and which to confront. The privacy of my home and my studio had been shattered, as well as the hopefulness I'd felt when I opened the studio. But the disappointment and fear disappeared underneath the ancient, musty comforter forming a private tent around our bodies.

  Jax pressed to me, one of his arms still lazily draped over my shoulders, the other brushing against my waist, though I was certain it wasn't on purpose. His fingers were inches away from the sensitive skin below my belly button, and for a second I could pretend that our hearts had never been broken due to an impossibly timed love.

  We could have been two adults, married now with kids of our own playing hide-and-seek, instead of strangers brought together out of necessity. I cleared my throat, trying to shake the old memories and cherish the new.

  "Are you okay?"
Jax asked. The arm around my back pulled me in tighter.

  I nodded. I wasn't quite ready to speak.

  "Good. I hear the seeker in the hall. Shhh. Come closer."

  The command for silence was a welcome one. I nestled into the crook of his arm, and it twisted my heart that I fit just as perfectly now as I had ten years before. Except now, this wasn't my arm-crook to cuddle in—a fact I needed to remember.

  "He skipped over us for now. We're good." Jax's grin shone through as if he were a child himself. It warmed my insides to see he hadn't lost his playful side despite years on the force, having seen what I assumed were some pretty bad things over the course of the past decade. "How was your night?"

  "It was good. But how was yours? Thanks for watching the kids. That was really sweet of you."

  "That's what uncles do." Jax smiled. "Plus, it's been a while since I got a challenging round of hide-and-seek in. Does a body good."

  I laughed. Jax covered my mouth with his hand, and we both lost it, cracking up into our respective pillows, his hand firmly pressed against my lips.

  When we calmed, he made eye contact with me, pushing up the edge of the covers so we could grab a breath of fresh air. The meeting of our gazes lasted for only an instance, a brief crash of happy and sad that was extinguished as he let the cover drop, and we were plunged into darkness once more.

  "They didn't find anything at your house," Jax said. "Nathan called and said that none of the men on the scene seemed suspicious—and nothing in the house was off, so far as they could tell. Unless, of course, your sock drawer is missing some things."

  "I wouldn't know."

  "Neither would I." I could feel Jax's smile more than I could see it. "Apparently you have fifty-one fishnet stockings."

  "Hmmm. Nice of them to count."

  "Why not stop at fifty? Do you really need that extra one?"

  "Very funny, haha." I poked him in the chest, then ran my prickly leg up his until he flinched.

  "Ow! You're a madwoman."

  "Stop poking around in my underwear drawer."