I smiled at the visitor. "Hello. Can I help you? Or are you just browsing?"
Behind me, Eleanor gasped.
2
Tess
The man, who looked vaguely like someone I’d expect to see playing tennis at Harvard, with his square jaw, deep tan, and carefully styled hair, gave Eleanor a wry smile, which displayed his blindingly white teeth. "Nice to see you too, Mrs. Wolf."
"Cletus McKee! What are you doing in town? I thought you swore never to darken the streets of Dead End again."
Understanding washed over me. The McKee family had an enormous and varied cast of characters on the branches of its somewhat twisted family tree. I'd never met Cletus before, but I'd definitely heard stories about him and the giant feud he had with the Dead End McKees.
He flashed a charming smile, but I wasn't particularly charmed. I'd heard too much about him. On the other hand, I liked to form my own impressions of people. I'd been judged enough, and often unfairly, by people who knew nothing about me but what they'd heard about my … condition.
"Hello, Cletus. Welcome to Dead End Pawn. How can I help you? I'm Tess."
His face lit up. "Tess Callahan! Nice to meet you. Bubba always calls you the one that got away. I never imagined you'd be so pretty, though."
This was a double whammy. First, I couldn't imagine Bubba McKee ever calling me anything and definitely not thinking of me as the one who got away from him, unless he meant making a polite excuse and walking away from him when he launched into a long-winded story about his boa constrictor.
Second, he was laying it on a little thick with the flattery. When charm turned to smarm, I got suspicious.
"That Bubba sure is a character," I said cheerfully. "So, what brings you to town?"
"Didn't you hear? My fireworks company got the contract for Dead End's Fourth of July celebration."
This was not great news, and I was surprised and not completely happy that my Aunt Ruby hadn't told me about it. The same company, run by a full-time resident of Dead End, had gotten that contract for the past twenty years. And the owner, Skeeter Hatfield, wasn't known to be particularly easygoing. Between the McKee family feud and the bad blood this contract would engender, it looked like there were going to be more fireworks at the Dead End Fourth of July festival than just the ones in the sky.
"No, I didn't hear that. Congratulations," I said automatically. "Is there something you’re looking for in the shop? Or did you need to pawn something?"
"No. I have a minor problem of the supernatural kind, and I heard you were the person to talk to about something like this."
I backed away until I was standing behind the counter, shaking my head as I walked. "No. I’ve had enough supernatural problems to last a lifetime. Leprechauns. Haunted fruit bats.Enchanted Christmas trees. An Eeyore of a crystal ball.No,I amdefinitelynot that person. I am, however, the person to talk to if you want to buy a taxidermied ferret holding sparklers. Wouldn't that be a great mascot for your business?"
His eyes widened. "I don't think I need a ferret, taxidermied or otherwise. But I have a problem with a wildly irrational stalker ex-girlfriend who got her hands on a magical means to track me. I was wondering if you knew of anything or anyone who could help nullify that. If not, that's fine. I'll be on my way."
He started edging toward the door with a fake smile pasted on his face, as if he were trying to escape.
"Sorry, Cletus. I've had a rough few months with magical items. I guess if you can tell me a little about it, I may be able to refer you to somebody."
"This is a bad idea," Eleanor muttered. "I have book club this morning, but I can stick around if you need me to."
I almost laughed, but I didn't want to offend her or Cletus. The day I needed protection from one of the McKees was the day I closed my shop for good.
"No, I'm fine. I'll see what I can do to help with his … issue … and then get back to catching up around here. Call me later, and we'll set up dinner and some pool time for this evening."
Eleanor gave me a hug, shot one last suspicious glance at our customer, and left. Once she was gone, Mr. McKee underwent a bit of a personality transformation.
He got even smarmier.
"So, you're just back from your honeymoon. What a terrible loss that is to me and the rest of the bachelor population." He smiled at me, showing an awful lot of teeth.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, yes. You're very charming. Now, can we get on with what you need?"
He laughed and turned off the act. "I'm sorry. Sometimes my salesperson-persona switch gets stuck in theonposition.Seriously, thank you for helping me if you can. The police in North Carolina couldn't or wouldn't."
The door that connected my shop to Jack's private investigation office opened, and my husband walked into the shop.
