by Emmy Grace
“Rash?” he asks, one brow shooting up in curiosity. He even makes that look sexy, dang him. “How do we know I won’t like rash?”
“You need to stop this and get out of my house right this minute. In fact,” I say, pausing to reach for the discarded moustache and slapping it back on my lip. “I’ll wear this hairy lip critter around you every day if I have to.”
Liam chuckles outright, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I give up. I’ll agree to your terms. No hairy lip critter necessary.”
I exhale in relief.
If he had pressed the issue, there might’ve been bloodshed.
Okay, not really, but I’m self-aware enough to know that if I don’t get a grip on this now, I’ll be in deep, deep trouble.
If I’m not already.
15
Hours later, I’m elated when I take my phone out of the bowl of rice and it actually turns on. Rice should now be labeled as miracle food.
The first thing I do is call Regina.
“Lucky?” she answers sleepily. “What time is it?”
“It’s after four. Get up and come over for breakfast, sleepyhead.”
“Four in the afternoon?” I can hear the alarm in her voice.
“No. Four in the morning, silly.”
“Four in the mor— What on earth has gotten into you?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“The last time you were up at four in the morning on purpose, you were driving the U-Haul from Louisiana to South Carolina. Before that, it was the seventh grade.”
“It was not,” I chide. “Now you’re just being crazy.”
“First day of school, seventh grade. You had new jeans and you were so excited to wear them you woke up early to wash and dry them and make sure they were good and tight for Todd Carter.”
I grin at the memory. “Todd Carter. He was awfully cute. Wonder what he’s up to now.”
“Focus, Lucky. Why are you awake and calling me at this hour?”
“Come on over to find out,” I tell her, ending the call with a maniacal laugh and a click.
I figure she’ll be on my doorstep in six minutes or less.
It’s just past five minutes later when I hear her lazy knock.
I open the door, smile brightly, and step back so she can come in. Her hair is a mess and she’s wearing fuzzy pink pajamas and a green velour robe, which she pulls tighter around her.
“This had better be good.”
“Oh, it’s good,” I assure her. I finish cutting a green apple and dump it into the blender along with the other ingredients I’ve already prepped and added. “I’m making us a smoothie, by the way.”
Before I can put the lid on, another knock happens at the door. Regina and I look at each other, puzzled.
“That doesn’t sound like Liam’s angry knock,” I say in a hushed tone.
“But who else would be at your door at this hour?”
I shrug. “Mrs. Stephanopoulos? Maybe she saw my lights on and wants a smoothie, too.”
Regina rolls her eyes. “Yes. I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going on.”
I walk back to the door. When I see who it is, my stomach jumps up into my chest, does a triple somersault with a twist, and then lands back in its original position with a spectacular splash of pure delight.
Great balls of fire, Liam Dunning is on my doorstep and he’s looking better than he ever has.
That or it’s just that now I have a hunger for him that rivals that of a Hungry Hungry Hippo, and that seeing him is like seeing the world’s biggest banana split with extra cherries and whipped cream on top.
Also, I’m hungry for real.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, feeling every bit like I’m sixteen and being visited by my biggest crush.
One side of his mouth tips up into the sexiest grin known to womankind. “I saw your lights on. Thought I’d stop.”
“Oh,” I say around my smile. I’m showing every tooth in my head, I’m sure. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this big before. I probably look like a caricature. “Were you just driving by?”
“Something like that,” he says vaguely.
He stands on the porch and we just stare at each other for at least two full minutes. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but my mind is like a Sex in the City episode.
“You gonna invite him in, Lucky?” Regina says from somewhere behind me.
I’d forgotten she was here.
In fact, I think I forgot what my name was until she said it.
“Wanna come in? I was just going to make some breakfast.”
“Sure.”
He brushes past me. Slowly. And very closely.
Lord have mercy.
Think, Lucky. Think about something distracting. Anything distracting.
“Oh, Regina, I hooked up the automater. Watch this. On number three,” I say, and the lamp pops on. That’s the one I remember best for some reason. Probably because I’ve already used it a few times.
Regina claps and Liam nods. Then he bends close to purr into my ear. “Don’t you just love having a new toy to play with?”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
My mouth is so dry I could start a wildfire on my tongue. Somebody call the fire department. It’s getting hot in here. And according to Nellie, next comes the “take off all your clothes” part and I’m not ready.
I’m not ready!
“Do another one,” Regina cheers from the kitchen.
I oblige. Anything to stop this insane tension that’s winding me up like a mechanical kitty.
“On number four,” I command, trying not to look at Liam.
I was expecting the television to turn on, but instead, the vacuum cleaner starts up, scaring the crap out of me as well as my until-now placid creatures.
Mr. Jingles barks, Gumbo snorts, Lucy-fur growls. Seconds later, I hear Gator’s squeaky wheel, and then Squishy starts squawking, “Abraham! Abraham! Abraham!”
“Off number three,” I say, but the lamp switches off. I meant to turn off the vacuum. “I mean number four. Number four!” I holler.
Fred chooses this very moment to poke his head through the dog door and scream, causing Regina to jump like she’s been shot, and accelerating Gator’s running.
“Off, uh, number one,” I say, forgetting which number is which.
Liam! I blame Liam!
Unfortunately, my stammer must’ve sounded like the word on, because in the kitchen, right behind Regina’s head, the blender turns on.
Even more unfortunately, Liam knocked and interrupted me before I could put the lid on all those ingredients. So all that fruit and all that yogurt and all those nuts erupt.
It’s like the exorcist, only appliance style. The blender is spitting chunks of food and splatters of yogurt all over my walls and ceiling and cabinets. The vacuum cleaner has actually begun to move now and is chasing Mr. Jingles, who is running from it, yipping like someone cut off his leg. And the lamp is flickering. I don’t even know why that is.
I’m spinning in a circle right in the middle of Poltergeist.
“Number three, number one, number four. Off! Off!”
Thankfully, Liam keeps a clear head no matter what. He calmly walks into the battle zone that is my kitchen and unplugs the blender. Then, with animals still going nuts all around the joint, he goes to the vacuum and unplugs it next. The lamp’s still flickering, so he disables it, too.
I go for Lucy-fur and take her out the front and, within thirty seconds, the demons have vacated the premises and quiet falls across the land of Lucky.
“What. In the. World.” Regina looks as shocked as I feel.
“I…I got the numbers mixed up. I…I…” I bumble along. Every bit of my good sense is scrambled like fresh eggs on Sunday morning.
Liam intervenes with an explanation. “I kissed her last night. I think she’s a little out of sorts.”
He says it casually, as if he’s not dropping a bomb into the center of t
he room.
Regina’s mouth falls open and there is about a ten-second pause before she regains her composure. It’s a struggle, though. I can see it in her eyes. They look like they’re about to bug out of her head. When she finally snaps her mouth shut, the corners are dipped in like she’s holding back the biggest, loudest, most excited scream in the universe. A few more seconds and she’s ready to speak like a rational adult. “Oh. Well. That explains it.”
When she turns her gaze to me, there is only one thing in it. She might as well be yelling at me.
OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?
Just one long, repetitive mental shout.
“Now you know why I invited you over here at four o’clock in the morning. Why I’m even awake at four o’clock in the morning,” I tell her.
“And why he’s stopping by at four o’clock in the morning.” Regina turns a knowing grin on Liam. “Boy, do I feel like a third wheel.”
“You shouldn’t. We’ve agreed not to do any kissing while we’re working a case,” I explain.
Regina’s still nodding. She looks at Liam. “Boggled her mind, did you?”
Liam grins. A big, cocky, gorgeous grin that would make the sun look like a nightlight if it were out right now. “Yeah, I did.”
I slap his arm. “You’re not supposed to be proud of that. What if you broke me? What if I can’t function now? How will I ever solve crimes?”
“Maybe it’s like going cross-eyed. You just have to keep doing what you did the first time until your eyes uncross.”
Regina’s nodding even faster. “Oh, I like that. I think you should do that.”
“You’re not helping, Regina.”
“I am, too. Just not the way you want me to. Trust me, this is what’s best for you.”
“Well, since you two are so pleased about the breaking of Lucky, you can work off some of that exhilaration by cleaning my kitchen. How’s that sound?”
They both start stammering at the exact same time.
“Look at the time,” Liam says, checking his wrist, which doesn’t even have a watch on it as he backs toward the door.
“I need at least two more hours of beauty sleep,” Regina says as she stands. When a piece of pineapple falls off her shoulder and lands on the floor with a wet smack, she adds, “And a nice hot shower.”
I watch them creep toward the door. “Y’all suck. You know that, right?”
Liam pauses at the door. “I’m doing this for your own good. If you’re here cleaning, you can’t be messing around in this case.”
I tilt my head. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
He tilts his, too. “Lucky, please. Do this for me.”
“I am doing it for you. I’m helping. Clive won’t be able to keep this quiet forever. We need to clear your name before his hand is forced.”
“Stop worrying. Just stay here, where it’s safe.”
I stare hard at him. I thought since we kissed he might be less of a butt about this.
Clearly, I was wrong.
I grit my teeth. “Fine. But at least keep me posted. I’d like to stay in the loop.”
Liam narrows his eyes on me. I think he’s trying to see into my mind, find out if I’m being sincere. I slam that door in his face. Not today, Dunning!
I smile, albeit tightly.
“Why don’t I believe you?” he asks, his frown falling back down into place. It’s like an old familiar friend, coming for a visit. It’s nice to know that, no matter what changes between Liam and me, this won’t. He’ll still be the same grouchy, stormy guy I’ve known all along.
Just with an ooey-gooey center that I might get to take a bite of every now and again.
I shall call this the best of both worlds.
“Because you’re a skeptical, skeptical man. That’s why.”
He grunts. “Stay here, Lucky. I mean it.”
I roll my eyes and give him a nod of sorts, then shoo him out the door. Regina pauses before she follows.
“You dawg. You beautiful, clumsy, lucky dawg.” I grin and she leaves shaking her head. The next time I see her, she’ll be threatening to water board me if I don’t give her details.
“Sleep tight,” I say in a singsong voice, closing the door behind them. I turn back to my kitchen, which looks like a wild pack of third graders just had a food fight in it and left without a trace.
My sweet little pig goes trotting by me and starts eating a chunk of apple off the floor. That gives me an idea.
I tiptoe through the breakfast carnage and open the back door. Fred is still standing there and Ethel isn’t far behind now. She probably smelled the explosion of food. I open it wide and stand back. “Come in. Eat, eat, eat, my furry friends. Help me clean up this mess.”
I get a bucket of soapy water and a sponge and climb up on the counter to wipe down the ceiling and the cabinets as my pets take care of everything they can reach. I smile, humming happily to myself.
Eating food off your floor to help you clean up? Now those are true friends.
16
When my kitchen is spotless, all my animals are in their natural habitat (which means the goats are back outside so they don’t eat my comforter), and I’m bathed, I make a call that I’ve been putting off making. It just so happens that I have a favor to ask and a bone to pick, and I’m in the mood to do both today. It’s Wednesday. What the heck?
Felonious sounds sleepy when she answers. “This better be good.”
“Oh, it’s good alright. You are a devil, did you know that?”
I hear laughter in her tone when she replies.
It’s as I suspected—devil.
“Why, what on earth do you mean?” She’s doing her best to sound like an innocent Southern belle.
I’m not falling for that load of crap.
“You know precisely what I mean. What was that with Tabatha?”
“She saw the stilts boy when she went to the circus. When she found out I was taking the cat, she asked me to introduce her. I couldn’t very well do that, but I knew someone who could. One plus one equals two. What else is there?”
“Um, the fact that you led me to believe that she was you. That’s what.”
Her giggle is soft, but I still hear it. “That was just for fun. Since I used Tabatha’s intro as your payment, I had to think of another way to get some entertainment outta you.”
“In other words, torturing, humiliating, or otherwise pranking me is your goal in life. Is that it?”
“Pretty much,” she admits around a yawn. “And the longer you keep me awake, the worse your next one will be. Might want to get to the point. Unless, of course, you called just to accuse me of what we both already knew.”
Devil.
“Actually, I do need something, but I’ll be expecting light treatment this time. Tricking me that way was low. Even for you.”
“What do you want?”
I notice that she didn’t agree to my terms. Dang it.
“If I gave you an IP address, could you hack a computer?”
“Are you really asking me that?” If it’s possible to hear eyes roll, I can hear hers. “Of course.”
“I’ll text you the one I need information from then.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Anything. Everything. Personal stuff, financial stuff, illegal stuff.”
“Fine. I’ll have it to you in a couple of hours. But first…sleep.”
She hangs up.
I glare at my phone, and I’m thinking one thing.
Yep, you guessed it.
Devil.
Since it’s now a respectable hour, I call Clive. One thing I know for sure is that Liam is most definitely not in the loop with respect to what our Chief Sheriff knows. Maybe I can get a leg up on this investigation from something he’s discovered.
Clive answers his work phone on the first ring. Knowing him, he’s been there since dawn anyway.
“Hi, Clive. It’s Lucky,” I annou
nce. I’m not sure how many other young females call him on a regular basis, but I still feel like I should identify myself.
“Mornin’, lucky lady. What’s got you up at this hour?”
I can only assume that the entire town now knows of my aversion to early mornings. “Just working on this case. Have you heard anything new?”
I realize that I’m probably barking up the wrong tree. This isn’t really Clive’s area of expertise. It’s likely not any small town law enforcement professional’s area of expertise. Homicides just aren’t that common in rural America.
Well, until recently.
“As a matter of fact, I was fixin’ to call you today. I heard back from Tamala at the M.E.’s office. She finally got a chance to fully examine the body. This is gruesome, I know, and I apologize that a young lady like you has to hear things like this, but Tamala found several small marks or cuts around Dahlia’s neck. Semi-circle of them on both sides. There were also abrasions around her legs and waist. Based on the pattern, she believes someone wrapped the body with a length of thick chain and tried to weigh her down. Whoever it was just did a poor job of it, I’m thinkin’.”
“So, this was planned?”
“Sure looks that way.”
“Does the medical examiner know if she was killed somewhere else and just dumped here?”
That would make more sense to me. And if she was killed elsewhere, it will be easier to prove Liam didn’t do it.
“She was killed here, too. The water in her lungs is a match to our lake water.”
“So someone must’ve followed her here and killed her, but then that would have to mean that they knew she was coming to see Liam.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.” I grin when Clive agrees with me. Bless him.
“Okay, thanks for the information, Clive. I’ve got some timeline investigating to do. I’ll holler back at you once I have something solid.”
“Sounds good. You be careful, you hear?”
“Careful is my middle name,” I tell him before we hang up.
Only it’s not.
Careful is absolutely not my middle name. Heck, I’m not sure it’s even part of my vocabulary.
I ponder all the information I have, looking at it like pieces of a puzzle, taking each one and moving it around in the case to see where it might fit. Thus far, I’m nowhere close to having anything that looks remotely like a complete picture. I just have this random assortment of facts.
