"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 gethimto 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 that at least it didn't smell like flatulence anymore, but there was a definite whiff of moth balls and dry cleaning chemicals.
"One more load of jars, Tess, if you would," Lauren called out from where she was restocking the shelves of the booth. I rolled the costume up and stuffed it in the corner behind my tote bag for now. The parade didn't start until seven, so I still had time.
I studied Lauren. "Hey. You're short. You'd fit perfectly—"
"Forget it," she said. "The mayor already tried."
