Semi-Psychic Life (Glimmer Lake #2) - Elizabeth Hunter Page 0,28

about one thing often—”

“Tells another.” She smiled sweetly. “I know that better than anyone.”

Steve chuckled and Val joined him, biting back the snarl that wanted to curl her lip.

“Well,” Steve said, “if there’s nothing else—”

“Actually, I was wondering about his toolbox,” Val said. “Is it still here?”

Ah, hello again, frozen smile.

“It is.”

You were hoping no one would ask about that, weren’t you? “If it’s all right, I’ll have a friend come over and get it.”

In addition to his work truck, Val knew Josh would have kept his professional toolbox wherever he was working. Not only would examining it be a wealth of information for Val, that toolbox was probably worth thirty-five or forty thousand dollars at minimum and represented two years of Val’s own work at a particularly annoying accounting firm in Bridger.

She was not leaving the tools with Smiley Steve.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but as you’re Josh’s ex-wife, I’m not sure—”

“I can get my lawyer on it if you want.” Val fixed a polite, don’t-fuck-with-me smile on her face. “His girlfriend is… just a girlfriend. They’re not engaged. He had that toolbox from when we were married and if something has happened to him, it’ll belong to his boys. It’s better if we take care of it, that way you don’t have it hanging around.”

Steve was mentally debating; she could see it.

“Like I said, I’d be happy to get my attorney working on it. Or I could call the police and see what they want to do about—”

“That’s fine.” Steve’s smile fell. “You want it, you can have it. I want it gone by tomorrow, or I’ll sell it to recover the losses your ex-husband caused me.”

Oh hell no. Val rose, trying not to let the anger show on her face. She leaned on Steve’s desk and put both her hands flat on the surface.

Gross. He was fucking his secretary. Groooooooss. This man was a walking, talking stereotype.

“I don’t think you want to threaten me, Steve.” She kept her voice low and steady. “I’ve lived around here a long time and I know people. I know things. Like the affair you’re having with the nice lady at the front desk. I don’t think you want your pretty blond wife knowing about that, do you?”

Smiley Steve’s face went pale.

Val smiled sweetly. “You aren’t going to touch Josh’s toolbox or anything inside it. Let’s just part as friends, okay? I’m going to have someone come and pick up Josh’s stuff just as soon as I can. Do we have an understanding?”

“Fine.”

Smiley Steve really hated her. Val didn’t have to be psychic to figure that out. She straightened and walked out of the office, dialing her phone as she walked and fighting back a wave of nausea.

“West? Hey. Remember you said to call me if I needed anything? I need a favor.”

Chapter 9

Val walked to the nearest coffee shop to wait for Robin and Monica. She was frustrated. She was angry. And she had a giant bitch of a headache.

What was she doing? She was doing all this, going through all this mess for Josh? She’d tried so hard to restart her life—not the life she planned, but it was a good life—and he was still dragging her into his drama and bullshit.

Maybe he was off in Vegas, going to clubs, drinking with friends, and having a blast while she was back in Bridger City, cleaning up his mess.

Again.

Half an hour after she left Smiley Steve at Luxury Pro, her friends showed up, looking as frustrated as Val felt.

“Why do I feel like we’re working backward?” Robin asked. “Harry was there, but today he said he didn’t recognize Josh at all.”

Monica sat down with a sigh. “Ghosts are the worst.”

“Men are the worst,” Val muttered. “We should go home and forget about all this.”

Robin and Monica frowned. “What? Why?”

“Because this man is not my problem, okay!” Val bit her lower lip. “Why do I always have to be the responsible one? Why does that land on me? Maybe he just stays gone, and would that really be a bad thing?” She rested her face in her hands, covering her eyes as the headache began to batter her.

Monica rubbed her back. “I do not blame you for feeling that way. Not even a little bit.”

“Do you need an aspirin?” Robin reached for her purse.

“It’s not the headache—it’s not just the headache. It’s… my life.” She felt her eyes get wet and she blinked hard. “Every time I think I’m getting ahead or I’ve