"Or else the sculptor was just that bad," Logan said, snickering. "On the other hand, Jack and the statue are both tall, ugly, and stone-faced."
I restrained the urge to elbow him in the side and just sighed. Then I saw Susan arrive, wearing civilian clothes of jeans and a red sweater instead of her sheriff's uniform—well, itwasSunday—and left the two shifters to trade insults on their own and zigzagged my way through the growing crowd toward her.
"Everybody in town has walked and driven past this statue a thousand times without ever really seeing it, but now suddenly it's the most exciting thing in Dead End," she said dryly.
Former-deputy-now-sheriff Susan Gonzalez was the best sheriff we'd had in Dead End in my lifetime. Admittedly, it was a low bar, especially coming right after Sheriff Bertram Lawless, criminal and co-conspirator with blood-magic witches. He was currently in a cell somewhere awaiting trial, as far as I knew. But Susan was good at her job.Fantastic at her job. Smart, perceptive, and totally a law-and-order kind of person. No corners would be cut or rules bent on her watch.
Susan was a couple of years older than me and had left Dead End for a few years after high school, but then she'd returned to help take care of her grandma. She was a few inches shorter than my five-eight and had a delicate beauty, which often caused people to underestimate her intelligence, strength, and iron backbone. The bad guys saw dark golden skin and silky black hair, and they thought she was too pretty to be tough.
Nobody ever thought that twice.
"Love the new hair," I said, because first things first.
She tossed her head and the sleek, short bob fluttered around her face and then settled perfectly back into place. "Yes, I got tired of putting it up in a bun all the time. Gave me headaches."
Speaking of headaches, mine pounded back as if on cue, and I winced. "Yeah, I have one today, and I never get headaches. It's really annoying."
"Have you tried weed? Or CBD oil? They were the only things that helped mine," she told me, using her cop gaze to scan the crowd as we talked.
"Susan!" I was shocked. "You're the sheriff! You're not supposed to tell me to take drugs."
She laughed. "Tess, marijuana has been legal in Dead End since 1965, when we had that influx of hippie goblins. You know we have the charter."
Everybody in Dead End knew about the charter. Dead End was fully contained in Black Cypress County, and the county had a sovereign charter that predated the founding of the U.S. as a country. No federal or state laws applied in Dead End. We'd always had our own laws and our own form of justice.
Let's just say that when bad guys had tried to come in and conquer in the old days, the alligators had eaten really,reallywell.
"I know. They run the Dead End Plant Nursery and sing in a folk band." Because of course they did. What else would hippie goblins do? "They're fantastic, too. Uncle Mike, Aunt Ruby, and I went to a concert a couple of years back."
Susan nodded. "I had a date with the guitarist once, but I couldn't get past the hippie vibe. We're still friends, though."
"Anyway, thanks. I'm sticking with over-the-counter stuff right now, but I'll keep it in mind. About the mystery of the disappearing statue, though. Any ideas?" I looked around and lowered my voice. "Any clues?"
Susan sighed. "If only clues would conveniently label themselvesClueand jump up and bite me in the butt. Unfortunately, I usually have to put in the actual work and investigate. Speaking of which, who's the shifty-looking guy with Jack?"
I followed her gaze to see Jack and Logan, who'd moved closer to the statue, having an intense-looking conversation.
"It's funny you'd say 'shifty,'" I began…
Susan groaned. "Not another tiger shifter. I don't think Dead End is big enough for two of them."
I opened my mouth to say something, though I wasn't sure exactly what, when Jack leaned over and put a hand on the statue.
Whichbonged.
The statue did, that is. Made a tremendous noise that sounded like the "bong" of a giant cathedral bell. My brain tried to make a joke about weed and the other kind of bongs, but I told it to shut up, especially since the sound was still reverberating in my newly sensitive skull. I clutched my head and closed my eyes for a moment, wondering if I should get Jack to take me out to find the hippie goblins for some weed after all. But then Susan said a very bad word beneath her breath.
My eyes flew open, and I gasped.
The statue was glowing. No. It wassparkling. Sparkling like the vampires in that teen movie Molly and I had loved so much back in the day.
"That'snot normal," I said.
"Definitely not normal," Susan said. Then she started shouting. "Everybody back! Get back! This could be dangerous!"
Everyone was already running away from the statue, though. We were Dead Enders, which meant this was not our first rodeo. Crazy happenings were an almost-weekly occurrence here.
Jack and Logan stepped away from the statue, too, and Jack turned to find me in the crowd and made his way toward me. Logan trailed behind him, but he kept glancing back over his shoulder. I had to squint and shield my eyes, not sure how far was the minimum assured safe distance to be from disappearing-reappearing-sparkly-possibly-combustible statues.
