Thirty-Six and a Half Motives
Page 38
“Let ’em watch. Do you think they’ll try to abduct me in broad daylight? No. And we know they won’t flat-out kill me. So we’re going to waltz into the place like nothin’ ever happened. It’ll piss them off even more.”
“And you plan to let them follow us all over town?”
“Not if I can help it.” I turned to Neely Kate. “I hate to ask you this, but I need you to be prepared to shoot your gun if necessary.”
“That’s not a problem,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Once again, I had to wonder about her past, but now was not the time to ask.
“This is not a good idea,” Jed said. “They’re bound to be watchin’ your office. They’ll be less likely to be watching the bakery. Why not send Bruce Wayne to get your purse?”
I knew he was right, but there was something about flipping off J.R. that appealed to me. “Maybe it’s not very smart, but I think we can make it work. If it pisses off J.R., I call it a win. Besides, you know they’ll never expect it.”
“Skeeter’s not gonna be happy.”
“Once it’s done, he’ll appreciate the gesture.”
Jed’s eyes held mine in the mirror. “I suppose there’s no chance of changin’ your mind?”
“Not even a little one.”
He cursed under his breath. “I’m going in with you.”
“You can go into the bakery, but you can’t follow us into the office. That’s where we’re going to lose them.”
“And just how do you propose to do that?”
“We’ll slip out the back door and walk down the alley toward the county jail.”
“That’s blocks away. And you’ll be crossing two streets.”
“If you’re out front watching the office, they’ll be watching you.”
Jed pushed out a long breath. “This is crazy.”
I grinned. “And that’s why it’s gonna work.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Fine. But if anything goes sideways, you’re both staying with me.”
“I can live with that.”
Jed parked across the street from the landscaping office, then followed Neely Kate and me into the bakery. Dena’s eyes widened when she saw him trailing behind us. I cast a glance back at him, realizing what a formidable presence he was—tall, broad-chested, a no-nonsense look on his face. But she wasn’t looking at him with fear, I realized. No, it was pure, unadulterated lust.
“Rose, Neely Kate,” she said, her gaze still on Jed. “You brought a friend.”
“Yeah . . .”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
I looked back at Jed, unsure if he wanted me to share his name.
He shrugged, leaving it to me to decide.
I wasn’t ashamed of him, and I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. “Dena, this is my friend, Jed.”
“Your friend?” I heard the unspoken question in her voice. “What kind of friend? I thought you were with Mason.”
Instant pain shot through my heart, but I managed not to cringe. “No, Jed’s just hanging out with me and Neely Kate today.”
“Like a bodyguard?” When I gave her a questioning look, she added, “I heard about J.R. Simmons bustin’ loose, and I know you helped put him behind bars. If I were you, I wouldn’t mind having someone like Jed around to protect me.” She winked at him. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind havin’ you around anyway.”
Jed’s only visible reaction was to narrow his eyes.
“Um . . . we’re here for some cupcakes,” I said.
“Are they for Jed? Because I have a special recipe I’d like to share with him.”
My eyes widened as I cast a glance at Neely Kate. I never would have expected Dena to lose her head like this over a man, let alone my friend. The shrug Neely Kate gave me told me she was surprised, too.
“Actually,” Neely Kate said, as she moved in front of the glass case, “we’re taking cupcakes to a friend of ours. You might know her, actually.”
Dena crossed her arms over her chest. “This isn’t like the time you wanted to accuse poor Marta Gray of murder but decided to butter her up with her favorite cupcakes instead, is it?”
“For the record,” Neely Kate said with a hint of sass, “we never accused her of murder.”
“That’s right,” I added. “It was easy to see she couldn’t hurt a fly. In fact, we offered to be her friends.”
Dena uncrossed her arms, but she still looked suspicious. “So who are you trying to butter up this time, and why?”
“Maybe we’re just trying to be nice,” Neely Kate said.
“Not likely,” Dena retorted.
“No, really,” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back. “We’re trying to cheer someone up. We heard poor Hilary Wilder was feeling under the weather, and what pregnant woman doesn’t like cupcakes?”
Neely Kate flinched enough for me to know it still stung that Hilary, who was the source of so much contention, still carried her baby while Neely Kate had miscarried her twins and most likely would never be able to get pregnant again.
Dena looked like she was almost convinced.
Neely Kate pushed out an exaggerated breath. “Of course, we could always go to Ima Jean’s shop.”
Dena snorted. “Sure you will. If you want to give her cupcakes that taste like dirt. Besides, she shut down her shop after her daughter died. Even if she opened it back up, I suspect she wouldn’t want to see you there.”
I sighed. She was right. Not only had I been there to witness her daughter’s death, but there was a chance she might be my grandmother. I wasn’t up to dealing with that right now. “We want a dozen cupcakes,” I said. “But I need two of them in a separate box. For Hilary. One vanilla bean and one chocolate.”
Dena pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Wrong choice?”
“Are you really trying to cheer her up?”
I couldn’t make myself lie, not even with my fingers crossed. “We—”
Neely Kate butted in front of me. “What pregnant woman wouldn’t want cupcakes? And yours to boot! What kind should we bring her?”
Dena studied the two of us for a moment, then sighed in defeat. “She’s been craving raspberry lemon.”
“And you plan to let them follow us all over town?”
“Not if I can help it.” I turned to Neely Kate. “I hate to ask you this, but I need you to be prepared to shoot your gun if necessary.”
“That’s not a problem,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Once again, I had to wonder about her past, but now was not the time to ask.
“This is not a good idea,” Jed said. “They’re bound to be watchin’ your office. They’ll be less likely to be watching the bakery. Why not send Bruce Wayne to get your purse?”
I knew he was right, but there was something about flipping off J.R. that appealed to me. “Maybe it’s not very smart, but I think we can make it work. If it pisses off J.R., I call it a win. Besides, you know they’ll never expect it.”
“Skeeter’s not gonna be happy.”
“Once it’s done, he’ll appreciate the gesture.”
Jed’s eyes held mine in the mirror. “I suppose there’s no chance of changin’ your mind?”
“Not even a little one.”
He cursed under his breath. “I’m going in with you.”
“You can go into the bakery, but you can’t follow us into the office. That’s where we’re going to lose them.”
“And just how do you propose to do that?”
“We’ll slip out the back door and walk down the alley toward the county jail.”
“That’s blocks away. And you’ll be crossing two streets.”
“If you’re out front watching the office, they’ll be watching you.”
Jed pushed out a long breath. “This is crazy.”
I grinned. “And that’s why it’s gonna work.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Fine. But if anything goes sideways, you’re both staying with me.”
“I can live with that.”
Jed parked across the street from the landscaping office, then followed Neely Kate and me into the bakery. Dena’s eyes widened when she saw him trailing behind us. I cast a glance back at him, realizing what a formidable presence he was—tall, broad-chested, a no-nonsense look on his face. But she wasn’t looking at him with fear, I realized. No, it was pure, unadulterated lust.
“Rose, Neely Kate,” she said, her gaze still on Jed. “You brought a friend.”
“Yeah . . .”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
I looked back at Jed, unsure if he wanted me to share his name.
He shrugged, leaving it to me to decide.
I wasn’t ashamed of him, and I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. “Dena, this is my friend, Jed.”
“Your friend?” I heard the unspoken question in her voice. “What kind of friend? I thought you were with Mason.”
Instant pain shot through my heart, but I managed not to cringe. “No, Jed’s just hanging out with me and Neely Kate today.”
“Like a bodyguard?” When I gave her a questioning look, she added, “I heard about J.R. Simmons bustin’ loose, and I know you helped put him behind bars. If I were you, I wouldn’t mind having someone like Jed around to protect me.” She winked at him. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind havin’ you around anyway.”
Jed’s only visible reaction was to narrow his eyes.
“Um . . . we’re here for some cupcakes,” I said.
“Are they for Jed? Because I have a special recipe I’d like to share with him.”
My eyes widened as I cast a glance at Neely Kate. I never would have expected Dena to lose her head like this over a man, let alone my friend. The shrug Neely Kate gave me told me she was surprised, too.
“Actually,” Neely Kate said, as she moved in front of the glass case, “we’re taking cupcakes to a friend of ours. You might know her, actually.”
Dena crossed her arms over her chest. “This isn’t like the time you wanted to accuse poor Marta Gray of murder but decided to butter her up with her favorite cupcakes instead, is it?”
“For the record,” Neely Kate said with a hint of sass, “we never accused her of murder.”
“That’s right,” I added. “It was easy to see she couldn’t hurt a fly. In fact, we offered to be her friends.”
Dena uncrossed her arms, but she still looked suspicious. “So who are you trying to butter up this time, and why?”
“Maybe we’re just trying to be nice,” Neely Kate said.
“Not likely,” Dena retorted.
“No, really,” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back. “We’re trying to cheer someone up. We heard poor Hilary Wilder was feeling under the weather, and what pregnant woman doesn’t like cupcakes?”
Neely Kate flinched enough for me to know it still stung that Hilary, who was the source of so much contention, still carried her baby while Neely Kate had miscarried her twins and most likely would never be able to get pregnant again.
Dena looked like she was almost convinced.
Neely Kate pushed out an exaggerated breath. “Of course, we could always go to Ima Jean’s shop.”
Dena snorted. “Sure you will. If you want to give her cupcakes that taste like dirt. Besides, she shut down her shop after her daughter died. Even if she opened it back up, I suspect she wouldn’t want to see you there.”
I sighed. She was right. Not only had I been there to witness her daughter’s death, but there was a chance she might be my grandmother. I wasn’t up to dealing with that right now. “We want a dozen cupcakes,” I said. “But I need two of them in a separate box. For Hilary. One vanilla bean and one chocolate.”
Dena pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Wrong choice?”
“Are you really trying to cheer her up?”
I couldn’t make myself lie, not even with my fingers crossed. “We—”
Neely Kate butted in front of me. “What pregnant woman wouldn’t want cupcakes? And yours to boot! What kind should we bring her?”
Dena studied the two of us for a moment, then sighed in defeat. “She’s been craving raspberry lemon.”
