Marigold Burton. Hattie’s bridge-playing frenemy. Marigold and Ethel were the pair who always partnered up against Pearl and Hattie. She came stomping over, wearing her best flour-sack dress and mismatched shoes, and looked Blake up and down. “Yep. Figures.”
“Don’t you give the stink-eye to my kin’s new mate!” Hattie’s face turned red and she clenched her fists.
“He ain’t nothin’. My granddaughter’s mate, he just got promoted to head cashier at the Gas and Gulp. Did you ever get promoted?” Marigold stabbed Blake in the chest with a bony finger. He just stared down at her goggle-eyed.
Marigold flashed Hattie a look of triumph. “Didn’t think so. He ain’t even talkin’. He’s simple,” she smirked. “He’s dumber than a—ow!”
Hattie and Marigold had shifted in the blink of an eye and were rolling in the dirt. Two other foxes came running forward to join them.
Krista was looking down at her watch. Blake poked her. “What should I… I mean, shouldn’t someone…” He gestured helplessly at the red cloud of furiously snapping fur.
She shook her head.
It was 11:10. The shindig had officially started at 11:00 a.m. “Time to first fight—ten minutes!” She yelled, and she was met with an enormous roar of approval and thunderous applause.
“That’s a record!” That was old man Larry, who owned the General Mercantile. “Krista bought us good luck!”
Krista, laughing, hauled Blake away. He looked over his shoulder at the pile of foxes. “They’ll be fine, they do this every single year. Usually takes a little more moonshine to get them to this point, though. Don’t even think about sticking your paw in there, you’ll just get bit. Bitten! Argh, holler talk.”
Then she glanced at a group of cubs who were running over to watch the fight, and her happiness fizzled, leaving a scorching burn inside her.
“Ethan’s missing. And I’m being a self-centered bitch, enjoying the party like he doesn’t even matter.”
“No, you aren’t.” His arm went around her shoulders and she leaned into his warmth. “You’re blending in. You’re putting everyone at ease. I mean, what were you supposed to do, barrel in and start interrogating everyone? That’d just get their hackles up.”
“I’d like to take credit for being strategic like that,” she smiled gamely. “But really, I was slipping back in time and reveling in some of the few good memories I had of growing up here.”
“And that’s okay, you have every right to do that.” The way he was looking at her, she felt as if in his eyes, there was nothing she could do wrong. “Now, what’s our strategy?”
She glanced around at the crowd. “We’re just going to come right out and ask. There’s nothing to be gained by being subtle anymore. Things are going to blow up tonight if we don’t get answers, right? The soft approach isn’t working.”
She spotted Floyd, the owner of Floyd’s diner, standing near a charcoal grill. His son was serving up hamburgers, and Floyd was stuffing one of them in his mouth, whole.
Hattie came strolling up just then, and Floyd swallowed the burger quickly and sidled up to her.
“Afternoon, Hattie. You look as lovely as ever.”
She shrugged.“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“How ‘bout if I tell you over dinner? Any restaurant you choose.”
She just gave him a saucy look and patted her hip.“You couldn’t handle all this, Floyd.” And she marched away without looking back while Floyd started after her, moon-eyed.
Krista marched over to him, and after they exchanged their hellos, she said, “I’ve got to ask you, Floyd. Everyone’s heard about the missing cub, and it’s going to tear the holler apart. Not just Flowering Dogwood, but the whole damned Zoo, in fact. What have you heard?”
He went pale and glanced around nervously, licking his lips. “Nothing. And what business is it of yours anyway?” He looked askance at Blake. “I knew you two was up to something. Don’t you drag Hattie along into this mess, Krista! She’s a good woman.”
“Blake’s my fated mate, Floyd. Don’t try to change the subject. You’ve heard something, haven’t you?”
He shrugged and casually took a couple of steps sideways, away from them.
“There’s a missing kid. And you know something.” She glared at him.
“My kid works for Dawnie,” Floyd snapped, glancing over at his son. “And I care more about him then some outsider’s cub. And if I talk to you, there won’t be enough of me left to fill a sandwich.”
Krista let out a snarl. “If the lions come in and tear this town apart, you won’t have a diner, you won’t have customers, you might not even have a pulse. So chew on that for a while.” And Krista whirled off, with Blake following her.
They worked their way through the crowd, stopping off to eat and drink, questioning anyone who she thought might have an answer.
