Page 25 of Dark Obsession

Cody sat up and propped his elbows on the desk, picking up his phone and sending off a text.

You almost done for the day?

Demmy’s response came back in less than a minute.

Almost. These possums aren’t cooperating.

You’ll charm them, I’m sure. Since you cooked last night, I was thinking of making dinner tonight.

Who is this? Where’s Cody?

I take back what I said about charm.

LOL. What are you thinking?

It’s a surprise.

Okaaaaaay

Cody frowned, but then nodded to himself. Demmy never let him get away with anything. Well, almost never. He sent another text back.

I’m headed to Ike’s. Need anything?

We need cereal.

They bantered back and forth about brands, and when they finally ended the conversation, Cody was smiling.

Although Ike’s was much smaller than the Giant Eagle in Harriettville, Cody preferred the market’s meat counter. The big guy who managed the deli and meat counter, Paul, liked to talk football with him. He’d gone to Cody’s games back in the day, and he always had good suggestions about cuts of meat and grilling tips.

At the market, Cody grabbed a cart and pushed it up and down the narrow aisles, picking up cans and two boxes of cereal, one on the healthier side and the other with actual, admittedly artificial, flavor. His ambling eventually took him to the deli and meat counter in the back corner. Paul was talking with a couple of elderly women, his big hands splayed across the top of the display case, and the paper hat sitting at a jaunty angle on his thick blond hair streaked with gray. Catching sight of Cody from the corner of his eye, Paul turned, and his smile broadened even more.

“Cody Bower, number twenty-one, good to see you.”

“Hey, Paul,” Cody said with a grin.

“Ladies, this is Cody Bower, star linebacker⁠—”

“Oh my God, no,” Cody protested quietly as his cheeks burned.

“—of the Barracudas from the early 2000s,” Paul finished.

The two women cooed and nodded as they smiled. One of them said, “My son played football in high school. Did you know him?”

“I don’t know. What was his name?”

“Chester Linkler.” She straightened her posture and her smile widened.

“The name’s not familiar,” Cody said, making a face. “I’m sorry.”

“Martha, what year did Chester graduate?” Paul asked, a gentle smile tugging up the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, fiddlesticks, let me think.” Martha looked at her friend. “He was born in 1970, so he graduated in…1988.”

“Well, that was a little before my time, I’m sorry,” Cody said.

“Oh, I should have suspected that,” Martha said. “But it was nice to meet a fellow Barracuda footballer.”

The women said goodbye to Paul, then Martha pushed the cart they were sharing off down an aisle, her friend following and talking about ingredients they still needed.