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Authors: Cynthia Hickey

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Chapter Thirty-Two

“Good morning!” Mom’s loud, cheery welcome resonated inside my head.

I lifted my blurry eyes from my mug of coffee. Sleep the night before had been a distant friend. At a loss as to how to clear my daughter’s name, I’d tossed and turned before falling into a fitful sleep where I dreamed of visiting Lindsey in jail. Most likely brought on, in part, by my visit to Karen Anderson earlier yesterday. Duane’s offer of help had gone untaken. How could I ask him to do something, when I didn’t know what needed to be done? “Morning.”

Goliath jumped on the table and rubbed
his big orange body against my head. Trying to push him away was like shoving against the rock of Gibraltar.

“Isn’t he the cutest thing? Slept by my side all night.
Sounded like a freight train, but it was a happy sound.”

So, now my mother liked him? She bustled around the kitchen, humming and chattering until I wanted to plug my ears. I’ve never been a morning person. Why start now?

“Someone needs to warn Duane about your morning attitude.” Mom slipped two slices of bread into the toaster.

“Why?” I sipped my warm drink.

“He might change his mind about marrying you.”

That woke me up. “Who said we were getting married?” Did she know something I didn’t?

“Anyone can see it’s only a matter of time. All anyone has to do is see how the boy looks at you.” She poured a cup of java.

“We just got back together less than two weeks ago.” Sheesh. I rose long enough to grab my bag of M&M’s. Was I ready to get married again? Lindsey was fifteen. Mom would tie the knot soon. Yeah, I was ready. Years of being alone loomed ahead of me. Much better to spend them with eye-candy like Duane.

“We could have a double wedding.” Mom sat across from me.

“Enough talk about me getting married.” I tossed a handful of candy-covered chocolate therapy in my mouth.
I was sure to do something to run Duane off before long anyway.

“Hey.” Lindsey shuffled in the room and grabbed a slice of toast from my mother’s plate. Mom frowned and got up to make more.
“I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.” I downed the rest of my caffeine. “About what?”

“I think I’m being framed.” Lindsey grabbed the other slice from Mom’s plate. “I know, and you know, that I didn’t steal anything. Besides, if I had taken all the cash that’s disappearing, wouldn’t I have something new? Like a car or something? We’re talking a lot of dough by now.”

“You’re making sense. Go on.” Mom brought over several slices of toast and set the plate in the middle of the table. “What do we do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. All my suspects are being stolen from. I’m at square one.”

Mom took a bite of breakfast and stared at the ceiling. “To my way of thinking, someone stole from themself to take
the attention off. Like an episode on Murder She Wrote.”

“Is that show still on?” I shoved my bag of candy out of arm’s reach before I made myself sick.

“Reruns. Not important.” Mom waved her hand. “We need to do some stakeouts, and spy on everyone on your list.”

Kyle was dead, and I no longer suspected Billy, so that left Melvin, Marilyn, and Stephanie. But who would take who? What if I was wrong and it wasn’t any of them? We’d be wasting our time and end up looking foolish. “What about work?”

“I’ll put a sign on the window. It won’t hurt to close for one day.” Mom’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Who do I get?”

“You and Leroy take Melvin, Lindsey and Billy can follow Marilyn, and I’ll tail Stephanie.”

Mom clapped her hands. “Let’s go! We’ll meet at the diner at eleven.”

I made a quick call to Duane
. “I’m tailing Stephanie today.” I balanced the cell phone between my ear and shoulder and slid behind the wheel of my car.

His sigh vibrated over the air waves. “I wish you’d wait until I got off work.”

“I’ll be careful. She won’t even know I’m there. Mom is spying on Melvin and Lindsey is following Marilyn. We’ve got it covered.” Besides, I had my gun and my Tazer. Of course, I hadn’t learned how to shoot the cute little pistol yet, but I had plenty of time.

Mom roared out of the driveway behind me on her way to pick up Leroy, and Lindsey sped-walked down the road. I grinned. The Calloway women; out to save the world.

Stephanie pulled out of her driveway as I drew near. I continued on a few feet then did a U-turn in the middle of the road behind a pickup truck. A thrill of excitement coursed through me. If I could keep another automobile between me and my prey, I’d continue undetected. Detective work and I were made for each other. I waved as Mom and Leroy passed in the opposite direction. Mom gave me a thumbs-up and waved toward Stephanie’s Tahoe.

First we stopped at the dry-cleaners, then I waited with all the patience of a toddler at Christmas while Stephanie ran into the grocery store, then we stopped in front of her husband’s pharmacy. All above board it seemed. I was right earlier. What a waste of time.
Couldn’t she do something other than everyday mundane?

Two Labradors dragged Marilyn down the sidewalk. Why did the woman wear heels to walk dogs? I shook my head then smiled as Lindsey and Billy followed her, hand-in-hand. Casual enough. Marilyn wouldn’t suspect a thing.

Good grief. The woman’s been in there for five minutes. I cranked the radio station I listened to up another notch and proceeded to sing along.

A sharp rap on the window pulled me from people watching
and off-key harmonizing. I shrieked and turned to stare wide-eyed into the stern face of Stephanie Jackson.

“Why are you following me?” She arched a brow.

I rolled down the window. “Excuse me?”

“You
are following me. Why?” One tear managed to trickle down her cheek. How did she manage that? “Haven’t I had enough heartache in the last twenty-four hours?”

“I, uh, wanted to talk to you.” My face heated.

“You could’ve called.” She crossed her arms. “Ask.”

“It’s about the women’s ministry money.”

Stephanie sighed. “I really don’t want to relive that, Marsha. It was horrifying. Two terrifying people threatened me with a weapon. They could’ve killed me. Besides, with your daughter as the main suspect, I don’t think I should be discussing it with you. Have a good evening.” She spun on her stiletto heels and tapped her way back to her vehicle.

Wonderful. I’d accomplished absolutely nothing but waste a
morning that could have been spent unpacking the last of my boxes or making money at the store.

Wanda’s Cafe
loomed ahead. It wouldn’t hurt to show up early. Maybe I could enjoy a soda in peace and process the lack of information I’d covered. I parked the Prius in the shade of the massive cow and cut the ignition. Grabbing my purse, I headed inside, noting the new window installed after Lindsey drove through the old one. Thank God for insurance.

Mom, Leroy, Lindsey, and Billy already sat in a booth. So far, nothing had gone as planned. Why did I bother? I plopped my purse on the table and pulled up a chair.

“I got nothing.” I slouched. “Stephanie caught me, played the martyr act, and refused to say a word.”

“Don’t feel bad, dear.” Mom patted my hand. “Melvin didn’t leave his house all morning.”

“And all Marilyn did was walk a dog, then try to walk two big hyper ones, then headed to the shelter.” Lindsey slurped a milk shake. “If Billy hadn’t been with me, I would’ve died of boredom. This being accused of a crime is ruining my summer vacation.”

“Look on the bright side.” Leroy took Mom’s hand in his. “I spent a couple of hours with the most beautiful woman
this side of the Rio Grande.”

“Oh, stop.” Mom’s cheeks darkened.

I rolled my eyes. If Duane wouldn’t have had to work, I could’ve boasted almost the same thing, except he probably wouldn’t have let me go sleuthing. “What a waste of time.”

“I see your attitude hasn’t improved.” Mom wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Leroy took the liberty of ordering all of us cheeseburgers. You’ll feel better once your blood sugar is up.”

Bruce strolled into the diner, gave us a stern look, then took a seat at the bar. I gave an impish wave and grinned when he turned away. He couldn’t say anything against us having lunch, could he? His constant stares toward our table made me perspire. My hand shook as I reached for my drink.

A young waitress brought us our burgers and knocked my purse to the floor. My gun skid across the floor.

Lindsey’s eyes widened. “Mom, why are you carrying a gun?”

“Shhh.” I dove to the floor, almost kissing the shiny tips of Bruce’s boots
, and scooped up my scattered items as fast as I could.

“Hand it over, Marsha.”

Drat. My pretty toy. “Hand over what?”

“The gun.”

I handed it to him and got to my feet.

“Do you have a permit to carry a concealed weapon?” Bruce tucked it into his waistband.

“Do I need one?” I glanced over my shoulder at my family. “Everyone around here carries a gun. They usually keep them in their truck gun racks, but . . . oh! Not concealed.”

“Yes, oh.” Bruce sighed. “Look. I’m off duty and don’t want anything more to do with the Calloways for a lifetime
of Sundays. I’m confiscating this until you obtain a permit. Got it?”

“Got it.” Off by the hair of my chinny chin chin.

Leroy laughed. “Life with you three won’t be boring. I’ll look forward each day to a new adventure.”

I rested my head in my hands and wanted to cry.

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

With the smidgeon of dignity left to me, I clutched my purse and stumbled from the diner. Good grief. I’d never shot the gun, so why the remorse over it being gone? And crawling around on the floor, ugh. I clamped my lips together. Mortification. That was it. I needed M&Ms, and I needed them now. The nearest convenience store beckoned.

One elderly man in a John Deere hat filled a rust-pocked truck at the gas pump, two teenagers slurped sodas in front of the store, and a red Mustang convertible sat in front of the large store window. Good
, in and out, and I’d soon be relaxing at home with a forty-two ounce soda and a bag of therapy. I had a moment of car envy at the sight of the convertible, then patted the wheel of my Prius.

“Sorry, old girl. I’m perfectly happy with you.”
My phone rang before I’d gotten out of the car so I settled back into the seat. Caller ID showed Duane. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. How’d sleuthing go?”

“She caught me. Mom and Lindsey didn’t do any better.”

“I have to admit I’m glad. I worried about you all morning.”

Wasn’t he sweet? “And Bruce took my gun away.”

“What?
Who were you aiming on shooting?”

I sighed. “My purse fell off the table
, and he confiscated it because I was carrying a concealed weapon without a permit.”

“Oh. I should’ve known
about that. You could’ve gone to jail. Where are you now?”

“The Corner Store. Why don’t you come over for dinner around five?”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Really?” I smiled. “How about I love you?”

He chuckled. “Even better.”

My heart warmed
, and the stress of the day melted away. I wanted to listen to his soft drawl for the rest of my life. Regardless of my actions toward my mother’s hinting of marriage. I wouldn’t even have to change my name. “See you later.”

I hung up
, tossed my phone on the seat, and exited the car. Birds sang from a nearby oak tree, and the sun blasted my shoulders with its Southern intensity. The only thing making the day bearable was a soft breeze that kissed my skin on its way past. I dug in my purse for a hair tie and lifted the mess of curls off my neck. Previous experience proved I looked like a curly-haired Pebbles, but having the weight lifted definitely felt better. With a sigh of relief, I pushed open the double glass doors and stepped into air-conditioned heaven smelling of sweets and roasting hot dogs.

A
n auburn headed girl in black athletic gear chatted with the young man behind the counter. It wasn’t hard for me to guess she most likely drove the Mustang. Her shrill giggle echoed in the almost empty building.

An entire candy aisle screamed my name. I almost shouted in glee when I
realized the store had started carrying one pound bags of dark chocolate M&Ms. I clutched my prize to my chest and moved to the soda fountain. Thrusting the largest cup the place carried under the carbonated stream, I waited for cup to fill.

A rush of hot air hit my back as another patron entered.
The red head screamed.

My hand froze.
Chilly soda ran over my hand and onto the floor. I whirled to face the cashier. My feet slipped on the wet floor, and I grabbed a magazine rack to steady myself.

A person dressed in black from head-to-toe
, and wearing a Clinton mask, approached the counter. One gloved hand held a pistol. I couldn’t help but think how hot the person had to be in the heat of the day. Those masks weren’t made for comfort.

I sat the
overflowing cup on the counter and squatted behind a display of chips. What should I do? The obvious answer would be to call the police, but I’d left my phone in the car. I slid my hand in my purse and wrapped my fingers around the Tazer. Could I get close enough to use it?

My heart pounded with the strength of a heavy metal band. Sweat broke out on my forehead and upper lip.
God, please don’t let the person shoot anyone
.

I peeked around the corner of the rack. Baggy clothes, thick jacket, and the fact they had yet to utter a word, didn’t give
me a clue as to the burglar’s gender. Auburn hair girl continued to shriek until the person in black pointed the gun in her direction then held a finger to their vinyl lips. The girl shuddered and dropped to the floor. Better for all of us in my opinion.

The burglar made a movement for the cashier to open the register then turned
to face the rest of the store. I shrank back against the wall and swallowed the acid taste of fear. I scooted. The metal shelf grabbed my uplifted hair in its cold fingers. Footsteps scuffed closer. Held prisoner, I shoved my purse behind a bag of pork rinds and closed my eyes only to open them when the president impersonator tapped me on the head with the weapon. The genderless specter motioned for me to move to the front of the store. Most robbers are men, right? I chose to believe so.

“I can’t. I’m stuck.”
Adrenaline rushed through me, speeding my breathing.

The bad guy shook his head and pulled a knife from his pocket.
Oh, God, I don’t want to die in a convenience store! Please make it quick.
I tugged harder to release my hair and wilted when the thief cut me loose. I lifted a hand. Did he have to cut the entire pony tail off? It took me years to grow it this long. Tears welled in my eyes
. Stop it, Marsha. Now is not the time to cry about your crowning glory
. I sniffed. Duane loved my hair, but considering my recent habit of getting it tangled, maybe this was for the best. Clinton motioned again toward the counter.

Sure thing.
No argument here. I scrambled on my hands and knees until I sat with my back against the counter. I laid my chin on my overall clad knees.

Where were all the customers? By now there ought to be at least five dozen people traipsing through the door. Okay, maybe one or two, but I’d take anyone. I
glanced out the window and pressed my candy closer. Everyone had disappeared like an old episode of a Twilight Zone movie. “Is that gun even loaded? Why won’t you say something?”

The gun whipped in my direction and pointed at my foot. No words needed.

“Okay, don’t try it out on me.” Good Lord, save me from my mouth. “You must be pretty desperate to rob The Corner Store. It isn’t like it’s a booming business. Have you tried the bank? They actually keep money there.” Maybe if I kept talking, I could distract the person. “Are you the one whose been stealing from the residents of this town? Because they’re blaming my daughter, and if it’s you, you should say something and clear her name.” My chest started to hurt from all the pounding.

“Here’s all the cash.” The cashier’s voice squeaked as he tossed a bag on the counter. “It isn’t much. We’ve had a slow day
, and I don’t have the combination to the safe.”

The robber grabbed the money, rifled through the passed-out debutante’s purse,
grabbed her wallet, then dashed out the door.

“Call the police!” I dashed to my feet and sprinted after the black dressed he/she. The robber disappeared around the corner as a van full of kids roared into the parking lot. Perfect timing. Now we get company.

I turned and went to refill my soda. By the time Bruce arrived with an officer I didn’t know, I sat on the curb slurping an ice cold drink and had eaten a fourth of the way through my bag of candy.

The store clerk stood in the doorway.
“Lady, you talk a lot. Blabbering like that could’ve gotten one of us killed.”

I shrugged. Thank you very much young man with the puberty sounding voice. When scared, I tended to ramble through no fault of my own.

“I should’ve known you’d be involved.” Bruce glanced my way as he pushed into the store.

I held up my soda. Couldn’t a person buy a coke in this town without being accused of a crime?
To top things off, the adrenaline disappeared, leaving me with shaking limbs and an overwhelming urge to start bawling at the top of my lungs.

By the time the media showed up, my blood pressure had returned to normal. I held a hand over my face and dashed to my car when they wanted a statement
. The hounds turned their attentions to the two police officers. Could I be arrested if I went home before Bruce talked to me? He held up a finger for me to wait. Wonderful.

I called Duane. “You’ll never guess what happened to me.”

“You won the lottery.”

“No. The Corner Store was held up while I was inside. If I would’ve had my gun, I could’ve held up the person holding up the store.
I’d have been a hero.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope, I’m completely serious.” I tossed another handful of candy into my mouth. “They pointed a gun at me and everything. Plus, they cut off my hair. Better that then my head, right?”

“Are you all right? Because you’re running off at the mouth like a tsunami.”

“I’m fine. Peachy. Right as rain.” Tears slid down my cheeks. My hands trembled. It took me two tries to get my straw in my mouth. “No, I was terrified. I thought I was going to die and would miss out on more of your kisses.” A sob escaped me. “That would be horrible, wouldn’t it? I mean, you enjoy kissing me, right? Because I do love kissing you. It’s the best thing ever.”

“Are you still at the store?”

“Y . . .yes.”

“I’ll be right there.”
Click.

Within five minutes, Duane’s
motorcycle pulled up alongside my car. He leaped off and yanked on the door handle. “Unlock the door.”

I pushed the button. “Let go of the handle.”

“I’m not holding the handle.”

“Well, I’m unlocking the door.”

He stood back and held up his hands. “I’m not holding the handle.”

“Oh.” I pushed again
, and Duane slid inside. He turned to face me.

“Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“You? I’m the one who faced a gun. All you have to worry about was getting tackled by a high school student. Or Gatorade dumped on your head.”

Duane yanked me against his chest. “Your phone call scared me to death. I can’t let you out of my sight.”

“Can I have a kiss?” My gaze focused on his chiseled lips.

“For the rest of your life. Lord, may it be a long one.” He tilted my face and planted
a kiss hot enough to melt my gym shoes.

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