Part 17 (1/2)

”I'm not at liberty to discuss,” I said.

”Please,” he said, making a face. ”You aren't a lawyer. You're a detective.”

”Sort of,” Tom said, grinning. ”I still think of you as unemployed. I like it better that way.”

I rolled my eyes. Some myths refused to die and the story that I simply couldn't find a job was a Rose Petal myth that would probably follow me forever. I knew he was kidding, but they all knew it drove me nuts.

”You can tell us,” Raphael said. ”We won't tell anyone.”

”Except your wives, who will then spread it all over town like the flu,” I said.

They all looked at one another.

”Excellent point,” Brandon said. ”You probably shouldn't tell us anything.”

Mark leaned across the table. ”They were totally doing it, weren't they?”

”Thanks for the image,” Paul said, shutting his eyes, no doubt trying to erase said image from his mind.

”I'm not saying anything,” I said, smiling at Mark. ”Nada.”

”You are no fun,” he said, frowning. ”The rest of us go to our c.r.a.ppy jobs every day, sit at the desk, staring at our computers. But you? You get to go eavesdrop and stalk people and do detective stuff.”

Tom nodded. ”It's true. We do live a little vicariously through you.”

I looked at the useless cards in my hand and tossed them on the table, folding. ”Then how about if you repay me with some decent cards?”

He pretended to think for a moment. ”Never mind. I don't need to live vicariously through you. I'd rather have your money. Or, sorry, your wife's money.”

That brought more than a few hoots and hollers and I stood to grab some more food that would contribute to my early death.

”You guys settle on a name for the baby?” Raphael asked.

”No,” I said quickly. ”Not yet.”

Brandon glanced at me. ”Why not? It's gonna be like any minute.”

I shrugged, filling my plate with nachos and cookies.

”Yeah, why not?” Tom asked, smiling.

”Just haven't settled on one yet.”

”Oh, that's weird,” Paul said, staring at his cards. ”I heard it was because you don't get a say in the matter.”

The rest of them burst into laughs.

I chucked a cookie at the back of Paul's head. ”Very funny.”

”Julianne told Lynn,” he said, still giggling. ”Can't believe you don't get to name your own kid.”

”Oh, shut up.”

”But I guess that's the trade-off for getting to stay home,” he said. ”She pays the bills. She gets full naming rights.”

All of them were giggling like third graders.

”Maybe you could get a cat,” Tom suggested. ”Maybe she'd let you name that.”

The giggles turned to outright laughter.

”What about a fish?” Jeff asked.

”A hamster?” Mark offered.

”A bunny,” Raphael said.

”A snake,” Brandon said.

”I hate all of you,” I said, throwing all of my chips at them.

But I didn't hate them at all. I appreciated the fact that, for one night every month, they would be there to pull me away from any c.r.a.p I might be dealing with. And for the rest of the night, I didn't give a single thought to Mama or Matilda or George Spellman.

I just continued to lose money.

34.

”You two better have something good for me,” Mama Biggs said from her golf cart in front of the fair offices the next afternoon. ”Because I've got a singing compet.i.tion to run this evening and it doesn't just run itself.”

I'd gotten home in the middle of the night, slept in late and enjoyed a lazy day around the house with Julianne and Carly. No baby yet, but everyone seemed to appreciate the quiet day at home before heading back to the fairgrounds.

Victor and I had driven over to the fairgrounds together, the girls to follow later on. He and I went through our conversation with Corey Stewart one more time. Everything pointed right at the person who had the most to gain from the deal, and the most to lose if the information about selling the fairgrounds got out.

”George Spellman knew about your deal with Taitano Resources,” I said.

Mama Biggs was good. She caught herself before she could snap her face toward me, surprised.

”What are you talking about?” she asked, looking in my direction, but not exactly at me.

”We know you're leasing the fairgrounds,” I said. ”We know George came to you after seeing their rep on the fairgrounds. And I'm pretty sure you're looking at buying another parcel of land to move the fair to for the next couple of years. Which might all be legal and on the up and up, but it will anger a boatload of people here in Rose Petal. So you're waiting until after the fair to do it all quietly, when everyone is burnt out on fair news.”

Mama stared at me and then at Victor, then moved her eyes back to me. ”You're talking crazy.”

”Look, lady,” Victor said. ”We know what we know. And right now, nothing looks good. You hired us to look into George Spellman's death, right? Well, as of right this second, everything points at you.”

”At me?” she squawked, anger filling the lines in her forehead. ”Me?”