Trouble in the Tarot (21 page)

Engines roared and trucks drove over the tops of cars that were lined up, crushing them like soda cans. Other trucks crashed into each other like bumper cars. I didn’t know where my driver was going to go or what he planned to do next. I swallowed a scream when I saw Destructo headed straight at us. The note had said to throw the race, but the driver had to make it look good. He jerked the wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes, doing several three-sixties in the dirt.

The crowd went wild.

My head spun. He kept barely avoiding Destructo, who kept relentlessly chasing us. We were supposed to willingly let him crush us? Yeah right. Not if I could help it. I had to think of something. My driver drove around the outside of the track, looking for a way out.

Destructo cut us off again, hitting us in the tailgate. We fishtailed, and the front of our truck flipped up as we bounced along doing a wheelie on our lovely thighs. My driver recovered, veering toward the center of the
arena. I might be young, but I was certain I was headed for a massive heart attack.

I blinked. Where had that jump come from?

We hit the ramp and went airborne over the tops of several cars, almost clearing the lot, until I screamed bloody murder and popped up out of the back.

“What the hell?” My driver’s head whipped around, and he stared at me in complete shock, not paying any attention to his driving.

“Look out!” I screamed, pointing ahead, but it was too late. We didn’t quite clear the lot, and the impact made my teeth chomp together, forcing us end-over-end several times until we finally came to a stop upside down. I’d always envied gymnasts who could flip about on the mat, doing somersaults and handsprings.

Not today. In fact, I didn’t think I would ever envy them again. My driver groaned, and I kept fading in and out of blackness.

I was aware of the Jam coming to a halt when my driver didn’t climb out of the truck. The trucks rocking along to the ear-piercing music stopped, and the music died. My ears would never be the same. I couldn’t move if I tried. My stomach was still lodged in my throat. I heard footsteps outside the door of the truck. Oh, God. Meathead 1 and Meathead 2 or Destructo’s driver had come to get me at last. When someone yanked the door open, I screamed again.

“Tink?” The gun pointing at my driver’s head stayed put, but a pair of sharp angry eyes nailed me dead on. “What the hell are
you
doing in there?”

“She’s crazy,” my driver snapped, sounding a lot less groggy now. “She could have killed us.”

“Shut up,” Mitch ground out. “I’ll get to you in a minute.”

“Thank God it’s you, Mitch.” I sniffed back tears. “Wait, why are you pointing your gun at him?”

“You weren’t supposed to be in here. Remember my lead? This is part of it.”

“Your lead. Right. I, um, was…” I sighed. “Let’s just call it bad timing.”

“Story of your life.” He grunted. “Are you hurt?”

“No, just scared.”

“You should be. You have no idea what you’re messing with. Sit tight. I’ll get you out of there.”

Not like I can do anything else,
I wanted to say, but thought that maybe letting my stress talk wasn’t such a good idea under the circumstances. And I had a pretty good idea what I was messing with.

“No worries. I’m not going anywhere,” I said instead. “Hurry, please.”

He hauled the driver out of the truck and handed him off to his backup, I assumed. Minutes later, Mitch returned with help, and soon I was free. After climbing out of the truck, I thought for sure I’d have a lot of explaining to do. I glanced around, but the police had taken the driver away, and Ozzie and the meatheads were nowhere to be found. Go figure. The sun had set, and the crowd had dispersed. I was sore and tired and starving.

Mitch had anticipated I would be too shaky to drive after I was freed. He’d called for my car to be towed back
to my house, and he drove me home in silence, also anticipating I’d be in no shape to go back to his house. When we pulled in my driveway, the Dynamic Duo was standing out front looking frazzled.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Granny said. “I was worried sick when you didn’t return from your little B and E.”

Mitch narrowed his eyes. I started to speak, but he shushed me. “Go on,” he said to Granny, who was oblivious as usual.

“It’s okay, Detective.” Granny waved him off. “Sunny said it would be okay because she didn’t take anything.”

“Did she now?” he said, a muscle in his cheek pulsing.

“She sure did,” Granny kept going. “She just needed to touch something of Bernadette’s so she could read her tarot cards. You know, for clues, seeing as how things aren’t progressing quickly enough for us all.”

I groaned. Granny had no filters whatsoever. The words coming out of her mouth sounded so much worse than the reasoning in my head. Now Mitch would assume I didn’t think he was capable. No way was I bringing up Ozzie and the meatheads tonight, and so far he hadn’t said anything more about the driver. He couldn’t blame me if he wasn’t willing to share his lead, either.

“Is that so?” Mitch hardened his jaw as he looked at me.

“Sure is,” Fiona butted in. “I was here when the whole thing went down.”

“I would hope so,” Mitch said.

“Oh, you, where else would I be with this silly contraption on my foot?” Fiona laughed as though he were joking. He just stared at her in a no-nonsense way, and she started rambling on. “Then when Sunny’s car showed up without her, we panicked.”

“Can we just go inside?” I asked wearily. “I’m about to collapse.”

“Hanging upside down in a smashed monster truck with a known felon less than an hour ago will do that to you,” Mitch pointed out with a scowl.

“Oh my stars, what in the world were you doing in a monster truck with a person like that?” Granny asked.

“Oh, Lordy, my heart.” Fiona fanned herself. “I told you vehicles are haunted. Bernadette’s spirit probably forced poor little Sunny in there to get back at her for touching the stuff in her store and doing a reading on her.”

“You really are a nincompoop.” Granny waved her away and rushed to my side. “Come on, dear. I’ll make you some cookies and tea.”

“And I’ll bake you a pie.” Fiona chased after us.

“I’ll settle for some dinner,” I responded.

“We’re not done talking, Tink,” Mitch hollered after me.

“You are tonight,” Granny said over her shoulder in her own no-nonsense tone as she hooked her arm through mine. My sweet granny had a spine of steel when it came to her family.

“I second that,” Fiona added just as firmly from the other side of me, hooked arm and all.

I smiled. If only one good thing came out of this whole fiasco of a day, this was it. They’d agreed on something for the first time in ages. Hallelujah…

There was peace in my house at last.

*    *    *

The peace didn’t last long. The next morning I headed out to the farmer’s market. I’d been more than happy to pick out some fresh produce just to escape the new round of bickering regarding the best way to take care of me. I was fine today. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, and the smell of cut grass and flowers filled the air.

“What happened to you?” Mimi asked, glancing at the bruise on my forehead, then going back to examining a tomato for ripeness.

“Would you believe I ran into a door?”

“Nope. Word around town is you were riding in one of those crazy monster trucks in the rally last night.” She looked me over and shook her head. “Doesn’t really seem like your thing if you ask me.”

It never ceased to amaze me how fast gossip spread in a small town. “Never know what you might like if you don’t try new things, right?”

“With some criminal? You gotta be more careful of the people you hang out with. It sure doesn’t look like monster trucking liked you.” She snorted. “I’d stick to telling fortunes if I was you.”

“I think you’re right. Speaking of fortunes, what do you see in your future?”

“Why?” Her brow puckered. “I don’t see nothin’. You do know I’m not the psychic one, right?”

“Yes, I just mean, what are your hopes and dreams?”

“I gave up on dreams a long time ago,” she grumbled. “Nothing ever works out.”

“I could do a reading for you if you’d like.”

“No need,” she said firmly.

“Wouldn’t you like to see if there’s romance in the air for you?”

“You’ve done gone and lost your mind, woman. Men are the enemy.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

Her face clouded for a moment, but then she hardened her features like she always did. “Nope. Don’t need a man in my life, that’s for sure. Men only bring trouble. And I don’t let many people in close. It hurts too much when they betray you. Family is all a person needs to be content, but they don’t always have time for you, either. And friends come and go.”

I knew she was talking about Abby not having much time for her now that she was married to Chuck. And Bernadette had been about her only friend, but now she was gone, too. That made me think of my vision and how afraid Bernadette had been of the Meatheads. They’d been there just before she’d died, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were responsible in some way.

“I gotta go,” Mimi said, breaking into my thoughts. “I’m having lunch with Ida.”

“Huh? Oh, okay. Have a nice day.” I was glad she’d
made another friend, and I decided to give up on the matchmaking idea.

She just grunted and kept walking, leaving her tomatoes behind. I hadn’t meant to upset her. I’d simply wanted to help her. Nothing I tried to do worked out lately. Maybe it was time I did what Mitch said and butted out. I paid for my purchases and headed home.

*    *    *

Good Lord, what were they up to now?

I parked my bug on the road because my driveway was full of cars. Music and the sounds of people laughing and talking came from behind my house. I walked around back and stopped short. Granny manned the grill, flipping burgers and feeding what looked like the entire town. While Fiona had set up badminton, boccie, and croquet. Must be she was in charge of the social events.

“You didn’t tell me you were having a barbecue,” Jo said as she bit into a burger beside me.

“I didn’t know I was,” I responded, still holding my bag of produce. “This is all the Dynamic Duo’s doing.”

“I can’t really blame them. I know I wouldn’t be able to stand being confined to the house. I’m sure they’re bored.”

“No wonder they sent me to the farmer’s market. I better get this over to them.”

“When you’re done, come join Cole, Sean, Zoe, and I. We’re up next in badminton.”

“Sean and Zoe?” I raised a brow at Jo.

“She still hasn’t caved, but that’s not stopping Sean from trying.” Jo laughed. “See you soon,” she called over her shoulder as she walked off to join them, her auburn ponytail swinging jauntily behind her.

I made a beeline for the grill.

“Granny, what is going on?” I asked as I handed her the bag of produce.

“What?” she responded with feigned innocence, wearing mint green polyester pants, a cream-and-green-striped shirt, and her standard plastic rain cap since the wind had picked up a bit. “People have to eat.”

“You’re supposed to be on house arrest, not playing hostess. This isn’t your own personal country club, you know.”

“Told you she’d say no,” Fiona said, coming up behind us. She had on sunflower yellow pedal pushers, a polka dot blouse to match, perfectly matched sandals, and a wide brimmed hat.

“And you”—I pointed at her—“this isn’t social hour.”

“It’s summer. It just seemed like such a shame to let all those fun games I found in the shed go to waste. They’ve been rotting all winter, begging for someone to play with them.”

“Hmmm, is that what they told you?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why, do you think they can talk?” Fiona asked, looking around warily.

I threw up my hands. “No, they can’t talk. I’m just
saying I don’t need to get into any more trouble with Detective Stone.”

“That man needs to loosen up a bit,” Fiona said. “He’s way too uptight if you know what I mean.” She elbowed me in the ribs with a wicked grin.

I ignored her and scanned the yard to see who was here. None of the police were here, thank God. They’d probably start their own petition to get the women thrown back in jail for not taking their situation seriously.

The Sewing Sisters were here, playing boccie, with the exception of Hazel and Harry. They were probably on a date somewhere. Abby and Chuck were here, but Mimi was not. She was having lunch with the widow Ida Ray. Even my parents were here. I could hear my mother above everyone else, complaining about the inn’s coffee.

The café was my mother’s favorite place. She said the café was the only place in town with decent coffee. As much as she loved the quaint inn they stayed at, she constantly argued with the owner on how he should run the place. Especially his espresso bar.

Pulling my gaze away, I took a closer look around. There was no sign of Ozzie, the meatheads, or even Quincy. I didn’t think they would show up here, but that didn’t mean I still wasn’t nervous they’d come after me.

“Looking for someone?” a deep voice said from behind me.

I whirled around, slapping a hand over my chest. Mitch stood there, wearing jeans and a T-shirt as usual,
and taking my breath away like he always did. “Don’t do that, Mitch. You scared me more than seeing the Devil card in a reading for myself.” I breathed slowly, willing my heart to quit pounding.

“You should be scared,” he said. “Do you have any idea what would have happened to you if those two thugs had gotten ahold of you?”

“Thugs?”

“They’re loan sharks, Sunny. Ozzie is up to his eyeballs in debt. That’s why he was betting on the monster truck rally and trying to rig the outcome in his favor. That driver is known for his shady dealings. You ruined that for him. You might have made him crash, but you did so on your own. Destructo didn’t take him out.”

“How did you know about that?”

“I was on the verge of catching Ozzie in the act and arresting him, but someone ruined my chance.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere with your investigation; I really didn’t. But when I was at BB’s Baked Goods, doing a reading on her rolling pin”—Mitch arched a brow, but I ignored him and kept going—“by the way, something is
off
in Bernadette’s kitchen, but I’m not sure what yet. Anyway, those thugs broke in, looking for something.”