Maid by Mistake - Miley Maine Page 0,2

not even remotely the same. The smell was not pleasant. I would have thought they’d require everything to be washed before it was donated, but I’d thought wrong. There was a strong musty smell. And every now and then I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke or pet hair.

I picked through the racks, looking for something that wouldn’t make me look like I was trying too hard. Eventually I found a few pairs of old, washed out jeans and threadbare shirts. I had to be careful -- I knew enough to know I didn’t want to be mistaken for a prostitute.

On Saturday night, I walked the streets.

Pretending to be a drug addict was my best option. A dealer was too dangerous. If I was arrested, any blood tests would come back clean, because I didn’t intend to actually do any drugs, and hopefully I wouldn’t have to buy any either. I just needed to get to know people.

I’d have liked to go to the casinos, but I only knew about the legal ones. And all of those would have dozens of security cameras, ready to record my face. I had to be more discreet than that, at least at first.

If I was arrested, I could probably have my father’s lawyer have the arrest erased from my record. But that was a last resort. I wouldn’t have an arrest for possession of a controlled substance on my permanent record, but my father would be so pissed off. And it would be all over the headlines. I could picture them now:

Multi-millionaire Preston Ackland’s daughter was said to be an up and coming journalist, but her recent arrest shows the truth of where her true interests lie -- heroin.

That would be a fucking nightmare. But the risks were worth it.

The cashier at the store eyed my Louis Vuitton purse.

“That’s a good replica,” she said.

“Thanks.” Her comment was a good reminder that I needed a new purse too. I went back to the racks of clothing and spotted a dingy backpack. I cringed when I picked it up. It was going to be soaking in hot water as soon as I got home.

At least with this disguise, I’d have a chance of finding people who had information on the crime ring. They might not agree to an official interview, but if I got to know them, maybe they’d let something slip.

Fully disguised, I was ready to hit the streets.

Chapter Two

Tyler

At the sound of glass breaking, I jumped out of my truck.

Shouts rang out. One of the voices screamed, “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

I heard the yelling as two teenage boys burst out of the local catfish restaurant. Both were wearing black aprons, the kind the employees of the diner wore. So hopefully neither was armed with a gun. I checked their hands. Neither seemed to have grabbed a knife from the kitchen either.

“I’d like to see you try,” the other boy bellowed back.

Shoulders tense, I approached. “Hey boys. Why don’t we take a walk together?”

From inside the restaurant, several people watched in horror.

One of the boys spun around to face me, and the other took the opportunity to lunge at him. They both hit the dirt, rolling and kicking.

Luckily, neither of them were fully grown. I put my boot on one’s ankle to hold him still, and I grabbed the back of the smaller one’s shirt and then I pulled him up and off the other kid.

They were still sputtering, but I got between them. “Look,” I said. “You have a choice. You can get fired from your job, lose your paycheck, get arrested, and spend the night in jail, or you can both calm down.”

I pointed at the nearby creek. “Let’s go sit over there.” By some miracle, they both listened.

It was June 30th in southern Missouri, and the sun was bright. We needed to get in the shade if I was going to get them to calm down enough to listen to me. I wiped my hand across my forehead, wishing I’d at least made it inside the diner before I intervened. I could have used a glass of sweet tea to deal with this bullshit.

Once I got back home, I was going to skip the tea and go straight to the beer.

Two hours later, my ass was tired of setting on the creek bank, but I was finally done with the boys. Both of their heads were hanging with regret for how they’d acted.

I’d spend a lot of time with