Apple of My Eye (Tiger's Eye Mystery #7) - Alyssa Day Page 0,58

and cheerful Tess are just two sides of the same person, right?"

She nodded, her face screwed up in concentration.

"Well, I'm like that too. It's just that my other side is a tiger."

"Which side is the grumpy side?"

"Both sides," Uncle Mike said, snatching three more pieces of bacon off the platter.

"Speaking of grumpy," I said, grinning at my uncle.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, Jack, at least you have good timing. We can use an extra pair of hands to set up booths downtown," Uncle Mike said.

"Absolutely. Whatever you need. I just need to run an errand at some point, as soon as Dallas calls me with the information I need."

Aunt Ruby handed Jack a plate of fried eggs. "What information is that?"

He glanced at Shelley.

Aunt Ruby leaned over and kissed the top of Shelley's head. "If you're done eating, sweetheart, why don't you go brush your teeth? We'll be leaving for the fair in about twenty minutes."

Shelley carefully carried her dishes to the sink, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. Then she raced up the stairs to get ready, singing all the way.

"It's great to see her so happy," Jack said.

Uncle Mike nodded, his eyes warming. "Thanks to you, in part."

Jack shook his head. "Thanks to all of you and the incredible amount of love in this family."

As much fun as it was to watch the two of them find common ground for once, I wanted to find out what information he was waiting for before Shelley came back downstairs.

"Jack?"

"Dallas found a shell corporation related to Hammermill that's still active and has been making investments in Argentina. Brig is almost certainly alive and spending money. And you're not going to believe it when I tell you where we think he's been hiding."

"Dead End," I said flatly.

Jack nodded. "Dead End."

"Why the heck would he come here? There's nothing in our little town for some trust fund or hedge fund or whatever you call it millionaire," Aunt Ruby said, frowning.

"Exactly," I said. "There's no reason in the world anybody would think he'd come here, so it's the perfect place to hide, isn't it?"

"That's what we think. Susan and Andy have the entire sheriff's department searching for places he might be holed up," Jack said.

Uncle Mike looked skeptical. "Why would he have any reason to chop fingers off people? I mean, I get it if he had a slow burn over Tess rejecting him and he wanted to mess with her. But that doesn't explain the missing woman or the finger."

"So you think it's just a coincidence that he's here when this is going on?" Aunt Ruby pursed her lips. "Could be, I guess."

"I don’t believe in coincidence," Jack and I said at the same time.

"Jinx!" Shelley shouted, racing back into the kitchen. "Are we ready to go? Are we? I'm so excited!"

"We never would have guessed," Uncle Mike drawled, giving her a fond look.

We all stood and cleared our dishes, and Uncle Mike reached out and patted my cheek. "I guess if we survived you, we can survive anything a boisterous nine-year-old throws at us, right, Ruby?"

"So this is 'throw Tess under the bus day' is it?" I grinned at him. "Don't make me teach her all my tricks for sneaking out at night."

"You had no tricks, dear." Aunt Ruby said gently. "We always knew where you were and what you were doing."

"Because I was a good kid," I said loudly, following them out through the living room to the front porch. "I should get some credit for that."

"Yes, dear," she repeated, and I had to laugh.

"I'm riding with Jack," Shelley shouted.

"She already has an eye for the cute boys," Aunt Ruby said, chuckling. "And he's so good with her."

He was.

I stood for a moment watching my sister chatter away to my… boyfriend?

It was a word.

Not exactly the right word, but something closer than friend. Something more than friend.

Now all we had to do was find Brigham Hammermill the Fourth, so we could enjoy the festival in peace.

Maybe we could get him to wear the costume.

17

Dallas didn't call until almost four o'clock.

We'd spent the day setting up booths and stocking jam jars and eating fair food, but now I was facing my true nemesis: the swamp cabbage costume.

I took it out of its dry-cleaning bag and groaned. It didn't look any better than it had last year from the cleaning. In fact, I was sure it looked worse than it had last year. I took a tentative sniff and was relieved to discover