by Deany Ray
Some detectives we were. The only emergencies that we were prepared to handle were bad hair, hungry kittens, bland eggs or bad breath. Nothing in the flowered bag would help rescue Celeste, but if a pipe burst in the bathroom? Well, we had that covered.
“Marge!” I hissed. “Why do you carry all this stuff?”
“Because you never know,” she whispered back. “It’s best to be prepared.”
“Here’s a news flash: we’re not!”
“Well, hon, I know that now.”
“We have to think of something,” I said, trying to stuff the strange assortment back into the bag. Now it wouldn’t close. Absolutely great.
I picked up the hairspray bottle and stopped. Hmm. Then I looked at the Persuader. Maybe this could be useful. Marge was a genius with a gun. I thought for a moment.
“How good can you aim when you’re not shooting bad guys?” I asked.
“I could hit a target – any target,” she said, sounding both proud and confused.
Ding! It was another message from Celeste. Did you think of something? We’re running out of time here.
Working on it, I typed.
In fact, as of that very moment, I did have a plan. Who knew if it would work, but it was the best plan that I had. I just prayed Alex would never find out about it.
I moved closer to Clayton’s house and ducked behind another bush, hoping no one could see me there. I put down the hairspray bottle, then looked back at Marge, making a hand motion as if I were pulling a trigger. Then I went back to my bush.
She nodded, showing that she understood. We couldn’t send the guys out on a fake emergency, but we could create an emergency of our very own. We could set up a small explosion that would bring them running into the backyard. All Marge had to do was shoot. They wouldn’t be out of the house for very long, but it should be enough time for Celeste and Eddy to slip out the front door.
Marge rolled like a ninja from her bush to mine. She pulled out her gun from her purse, laid on the ground and carefully took her aim. Despite my sense of panic, I admired the steadiness with which she held the gun. The squeak in her voice was gone when she told me to get ready. “Okay, Charlie, are you ready to haul ass when that bottle goes kaboom?” she asked, holding very still.
“Let me text Celeste,” I said.
I typed quickly into my phone. Explosion happening right now. In two seconds you can run.
Then I turned to Marge and spoke in a low voice. “Let’s do this thing,” I said. My heart was in my throat.
It only took one shot for the bottle to explode, causing a small fire and a boom that startled me, even though I’d been forewarned. The back door burst open right away at Clayton’s house, and three cops spilled into the yard. They all had their guns drawn. They wildly looked around them while Marge and I took off through the bushes in the side yard of the neighbor. I was so freaked out that I ran into a tree, slamming my head into a branch, but there was nothing left to do but to just keep running. Two seconds later, a long branch brushed against my cheek, leaving me with bits of leaves upon my tongue.
I never bothered to look back; I hoped Marge was close behind. I knew that heavy purse had to slow her down. Thank goodness, we’d parked a block away so the car was out of view to anybody at the house.
I made it to the car at just about the same time as Eddy and Celeste. I could hear Eddy mumbling something like “I did not sign up for this sh…”. Of course, the last one there was the one who had the car keys. We all caught our breath, too winded and shocked to say a word.
A moment later, Marge trotted into sight and unlocked the doors. It was shocking how fast four people could pile into a car and be out of a neighborhood and onto the major road. Stop signs, speed-limit signs, speed bumps? They had nothing to do with us; we operated by our own rules.
For the next couple of minutes, we just breathed hard and waited for our hearts to stop thumping against our chests. That’s how mine felt, at least.
Finally, Celeste broke the silence. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what did you do?”
“Did you blow something up?” Eddy asked in amazement.
Marge turned to me and winked. “It was a hairspray bottle! Charlie had the idea, but it was me who aimed and shot. Got it on the first try!”
“Yeah, Marge is a badass,” I said.
Beside me, Eddy let out a whoop and held his hand up for a high five. I lightly touched his hand, which was just the polite thing to do.
“You didn’t!” Celeste said. “Where in the world did you get a bottle of hairspray?”
“Always be prepared,” Marge squeaked.
“Ah, I see,” Celeste said and eyed Marge’s purse.
“That hairspray bottle really saved us all. Wouldn’t have been too long until they found you two,” I said.
Celeste rolled her eyes and got out a cigarette. “I hate close calls like that,” she said. “I thought for sure that we’d get caught.”
“That was always on my bucket list – causing an explosion,” Marge said as she wheeled around the corner.
“That’s what’s on your bucket list?” I asked. “Then again, what else could there be for a woman who carries her gun in a flowered purse?”
“I get that,” Eddy said to Marge. “Blowing something up was on my bucket list too. Stroked that off long time ago.”
There was silence for a few beats. I don’t think any one of us had to wonder about that.
“What’s on my bucket list is to stay the hell away from things exploding in the air,” I said. In one case, I’d come way too close to an exploding van, and one time was enough.
“You’re not doing a very good job at that, though,” Marge said.
I sighed. She was right.
“Anyway, that was fun. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Eddy said.
“Yes, we do,” Marge said. “We absolutely rock.”
“I find that really sexy,” Eddy said, giving me the eye.
Celeste, who seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, wheeled around and gave him a stern look. “Cool it, cuz,” she said. Then she looked at me and nodded. “Genius move. Good job.”
I let out a deep breath, my nerves still a little shot. “It was all I could think of at that very moment,” I said.
I wondered how many great ideas were inspired by desperation.
“And Marge was the hero; she was the one who pulled the trigger.”
“Well, I had to. If you could have made better use of your feminine wiles, we wouldn’t have needed an explosion in the first place,” Marge said.
Celeste and Eddy looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I pouted.
I didn’t have to; Marge filled everyone in on my lousy flirting skills. Which resulted in Eddy laughing so hard, he needed to gasp for air and Celeste searching on her cell phone for how much a “Flirting for Dummies” book costs.
I decided to ignore them as much as possible. This was an issue I would address some other time. Right now, I was still half afraid that I’d see flashing blue lights at any minute, but I hoped the cops had all gone back into the house to search. I noticed that Marge kept glancing in the rearview mirror. I guessed she was nervous too.
Eddy leaned back, humming. He stretched his arm across the back seat, again almost touching me. I guessed for him this was just a normal day: break into someone’s house and then try to dodge the cops.
I suddenly felt hungry.
“Who’s up for Jack’s?” I asked.
Marge grinned. “There she goes again. Second genius idea of the day!”
In her excitement, she ran over a curb, then overcorrected, sending us into the next lane, which thank goodness had no traffic.
“Marge! Would you please watch out? It’s like you haven’t eaten in months,” Celeste said.
“Sorry,” Marge said in a low voice. “Think I’m gonna have an omelet with some hash browns.”
Yum.
�
��I want the Philly cheesesteak with potato wedges. Can I charge that to your fake company?” Eddy said.
I shot him a dirty look.
“Could we freshen up before we go to eat?” Marge asked.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Well, blowing things up and crawling around in bushes is not good for your hair, and my hairspray is…let’s just say I’m out.”
“That’s not important, Marge.” Celeste waved the thought away. “An omelet tastes the same if your hair’s a little messy.”
“But you never know who you might see at Jack’s,” Marge said. “The whole town loves that diner. Those guys from the accounting place across the street go there everyday. Some of them are cute! And my hair must be a mess.”
Celeste sighed. “We can stop at the drugstore after lunch,” she said. “Right now, I’m glad we got away from that house without Alex finding us. I could care less about cute hair. And I’m hungry.”
“Fine,” Marge pouted and tried to fix her hair looking in her rearview mirror.
I could only hope we made it to Jack’s alive.
Eddy leaned back in the seat and moved a leg toward mine so that our knees were touching. “I’ve always been a fan of long, dark glossy hair and a girl with glasses,” he said in a voice that gave me the creeps.
“Gee, thanks,” I said and cringed.
I wished Marge had a bigger back seat. After lunch, I’d tell Celeste to sit back here with her cousin.
Once we got to Jack’s, everyone piled quickly into the booth, and the last seat left was…next to Eddy, who leered at me with delight.
I decided to ignore him. I was most likely minutes away from the best cheeseburger on the planet, and I’d just escaped what could have been a mortifying chapter in my career. It would have been at best another very awkward moment with the cops. One cop in particular was on my mind as I scooted toward the edge of the seat away from Eddy. I wouldn’t let him spoil my meal; it would all be fine. Hey! I’d engineered an explosion and a getaway. I could handle one pompous jerk.
Soon after we’d ordered, the waitress reappeared with appetizers of fried mushrooms stuffed with cheese, courtesy of my father, who grinned at us from a corner of the diner. He knew I loved those mushrooms.
I gave him a thumbs-up.
Celeste took a bite, then closed her eyes in pleasure. “Cheese always makes things good,” she said. “I think I’m finally calm.”
Which was an odd thing to say for her, since she’s the personification of calm.
I reached for a mushroom. “I think we were careful. I don’t think we left anything behind to show that we were there. Hopefully there’s no way to connect the explosion next to Clayton’s house with the four of us.”
“Yeah, I think we’re good,” Eddy said. “They’ll probably chalk it up to a bunch of kids. What’s next on our agenda?”
I cringed at the word “our.” I was hoping we might lose him after lunch. Didn’t he have stores to rob, people to beat up, more poor women to harass? What did he do all day?
“The doughnut shop!” I said. “Let’s talk to the people there. There must be a connection.”
My dad appeared at that very moment. He massaged my shoulder. “Did I hear doughnut shop?” He laughed. “Charlie, I won’t tell your mom if you’ll bring me home a doughnut.”
I smiled at the others. “Yeah. They know all about the…change of menu at our house.”
Marge took another mushroom. “You can let Barbara know that we all ate our veggies. Thank you, by the way. These are always great.”
My father smiled. “Only the best for my best girls.” Marge and Celeste had been his favorite waitresses before they became “computer consultants” in our new firm. “It means a lot to me and Barbara that the two of you got Charlie back to Springston. Today, lunch is on the house for the four of you.”
“Excellent!” Eddy said with a grin. “These are some fine mushrooms. And could you change my Philly cheesesteak sandwich to the steak and lobster dish?”
What a doofus this guy was.
“Jack, you’ve been always so good to us,” Celeste said, “and the sandwich will do just fine for my cousin here.” I could feel her kick Eddy lightly beneath the table.
“And who is this young man?” my father asked, obviously delighted at the sight of me with a male member of the species. It was embarrassing how often my parents came up with suggestions for meeting single men, as if it were some emergency that they march me down the aisle in a long white dress. I would find my own dates, thank you very much, not that they were exactly beating down the door.
“My name is Eddy, sir.” My lunch companion jumped up to shake my father’s hand. Then he sat back down and put a possessive arm around my shoulder, reminding me that there were far worse fates than being single.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Eddy said to my dad. “My family’s enjoyed your restaurant for many, many years. You contribute much to Springston.”
Hmm, I thought as I took another mushroom and cringed at his touch. Even a doofus has some manners.
“Eddy is working with us on a temporary basis,” Celeste said.
“He specializes in…malfunctioning…hard drives and the…trickier kinds of viruses,” Marge said.
I hoped that made some sense; it sounded good to me.
“Well, that sounds great,” my father said, a proud smile on his face. “That must mean your business has been booming.” He turned to Eddy. “Did you know that Charlie used to be with the police in Boston?”
My parents both behaved as if my stint as a secretary for the Boston police made me a female James Bond.
“Is that so?” Eddy grinned slimily. “She’s a lovely girl, sir. There are many things I admire about your daughter.” He pulled me close against his chest.
Bursting buttercream! The guy couldn’t take a hint that I had zero interest.
I started to slap his hand away, but my father smiled at us in approval. “Charlie, it’s nice to see you with a fine young man.”
I tried to grin and bear it. Perhaps this would be enough to keep my parents from suggesting suitors each night over tofu drenched in awful sauce. Each suitor seemed to come with a “lovely job” and “an old Springston family” as if other things (a personality, perhaps?) were beside the point.
“Well, Charlie, best be careful now.” My father let out a booming laugh. “One of your other young men just walked in the door.”
Damn. That could only mean one person. We all turned toward the front door. There he was, typing something into his phone. Absolutely perfect! How I longed for a moment of peace to just enjoy my burger; I didn’t want to deal with Alex and wonder if he knew that we were at Clayton’s house.
Alex caught my eye. One look at his face told me he wasn’t happy and wanted us to know why. Before I knew it, he was heading straight toward us.
Chapter Eight
“You didn’t tell me I had competition,” Eddy said as he pulled me even closer.
I had to resist the urge to fling him across the room.
As Alex moved closer to the table, I moved out of Eddy’s grasp, trying to look nonchalant.
“This guy is a cop,” I told Eddy, keeping my voice low. “Be careful what you say.”
“What do you mean by that?” my father asked, concerned. He glanced at me and then at Eddy. “Is your young man in legal trouble? Is there something I should know?”
Shoot. I’d forgotten my father had been standing there.
“Oh!” I scrambled for an answer. “Eddy here forgot…to pay a traffic ticket! The cops like you to pay up.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Marge said, who was always parking on a sidewalk or wherever she could squeeze in, never mind the rules.
My father shook his head. “They need to build a parking deck. They’ve been promising that for years. Sometimes in the lunch rush, people want a burger and there’s no place to put their cars. Well, I need to run back to the kitchen and chec
k on things in there. You all enjoy your meal. If you need anything at all, just holler.”
“Thank you, Jack. You’ve always been the best,” Marge said as Alex walked up to the table. He gave each of us a look, as if he was determined to get us to admit that we were up to no good.
His eyes locked on me and Eddy, who actually had the nerve to reach up to stroke my neck, making me feel almost nauseous. I didn’t even want to be in the same room with the guy, let alone this close. At least his entitled foolishness seemed to be distracting Alex. Thank goodness for small favors in the form of assholes with big egos.
Alex finally found his voice. I could tell he was trying hard to stay calm.
“Okay,” he said. “I need you all to tell me what location you were at approximately…” He looked down at his phone, presumably to check the time. “Forty-five minutes ago.”
Silence filled the space. Sheesh. You’d think we’d have been prepared with an alibi.
After a few beats, Marge, Celeste, and I all spoke in a rush, talking over one another.
“The gas station on the corner! The one that’s always crowded.”
“We found a sale on table lamps. Buy one, get one free!”
“We were at the office.”
Okay, major fail. That was not convincing. I stuffed a mushroom in my mouth.
“Yes, that’s right,” Celeste said. “It’s been a busy day. We’ve been working at the office nonstop to try and figure out how best to help poor Lucas. Then we ran out to get a new lamp. It’s so dark in that place, and my eyes just aren’t as sharp as they were when I was younger.”
Marge picked up the story. “Then we stopped for gas and we were getting hungry, and so here we are! I do recommend the mushrooms.”
I could tell he wasn’t sure whether to yell at us, laugh or arrest us. I wasn’t sure if he really believed that story, but what could he do? He really had no proof. At least, I hoped so. Despite my nervousness, I couldn’t help but notice how full and soft his lips were and the way his muscled arms strained against the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. Why couldn’t things be different? Why couldn’t he have another job, any job at all that didn’t clash with mine?
