Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,90

with him rubbing my legs like that? Hunter, I meant, not Ben.

I fell asleep right there where I was.

Manny’s journal had completely slipped my mind.

“You’re back!” I said when Carrie Ann walked into the market first thing the next morning. Her short hair was looking spiky and perky, and so was she.

“Saw a familiar truck in front of someone’s house last night,” Carrie Ann said, giving me a knowing smile. “Things starting to heat up?”

“Searing hot,” I said, giving her a big hug.

“Who’s the new employee? He looks vaguely familiar.” Carrie Ann arched a brow at her competition. “And how could you replace me so soon? My feelings are hurt.”

“Meet Ben. He’s Hunter’s K-9 partner.”

Ben had stationed himself near the front door where he could keep an eye on the street and still know exactly where I was. He was smart. He’d sensed I was now a member of his pack, at least temporarily.

“Thought the four-legged guy looked familiar,” Carrie Ann said, reclaiming the cash register. “That’s where I know him from. Hunter’s. We need someone like him around here on a permanent basis.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to come back to work? How are you feeling?”

“Pissed off. I’m going to catch the creep who tied me up after braining me and when I do, it won’t be pleasant.”

I believed her.

Carrie Ann didn’t smell like smoke and her eyes were clear, indicating she was hangover free. In my opinion, new projects and missions are always handy ways to distract us from the same old destructive habits we tend to get bogged down with. So her plan for vengeance might help with her recovery.

“Johnny Jay hasn’t been his usual efficient investigator lately,” I said. “He could use all the help he can get.”

“Well, I’ve deputized myself, and our robber better hope the police chief gets to him before I do.”

“Too bad Holly the champion wrestler wasn’t around to assist you,” I said. “BTW, we’re double teaming at the store from now on. It’s safer.”

Had I just said BTW (By The Way)? Was Holly’s text-speak contagious?

“What’s that all over your ankles?” Carrie Ann wanted to know after gazing at my flip-flopped feet. I had on a new pair of flip flops, black with a mini wedge. “Looks like bee stings.”

“Giant mosquitoes in my garden,” I lied, as any good beekeeper would. “They itch. I’ve been scratching them.” I lifted and scratched an ankle for effect.

Holly called right as I finished restocking a bin filled with peanuts in the shell. I tucked the scoop into a pile of peanuts and answered the phone.

“What happened to you yesterday?” she said without so much as a hello. “Mom was speechless for the first time ever. She didn’t say a word for at least fifteen minutes after you bolted.”

“I thought of something I had to do. Then Hunter came over with a pizza, thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome if that’s your impression of a thank-you. Oh, and just so you know, Max and I are going to Milwaukee for the weekend.”

“Lucky you.”

“I’ll be in on Monday.”

“Eleven sharp?”

“Was that sarcasm? If it was, you better take it back because I covered for you with Mom. Everything is cool, and you don’t even have to explain your bad behavior to her.”

“How did you do that?”

“I told her you always act erratic when you have your period.”

Okay, then.

“TC,” were her parting letters (Take Care).

Thirty-eight

Saturdays are always busy at The Wild Clover. It had rained overnight, but tapered off to a light drizzle by morning. The forecast called for sun by noon, if the weather team could be believed.

Wet weather didn’t stop the tourists, although Main Street was a bit less traveled than usual. The fall months in our area bring out people from the cities to watch the trees change colors. Moraine is tucked between Milwaukee and Madison, an easy drive from both cities, which makes it a logical stop along the rustic road leading up to Holy Hill. People came through town, hunting in the antique store for buried treasures, with frozen custards in their hands and spare money to spend. Their brightly colored umbrellas disappeared as soon as the clouds parted and sunbeams replaced raindrops.

Customers picked out handfuls of old-fashioned penny candy from bins lining one wall of the market, scooped peanuts into paper bags, and selected fresh flower bouquets, which Milly Hopticourt had, as usual, brought in first thing when the market opened.

Milly also brought in a new recipe for the newsletter using the wild grapes I’d