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At my greeting she grinned brightly, her whole face lighting up, and said, “Hi! I know you don’t know me, but you’re Delilah Horton, right?” I barely had time to nod before she barreled on. “I’m Carmen Santos and I work for the Greenswood Gazette. I’m the only woman on staff, so, of course they have me working the Lifestyles section … Sexists … Also, I’m the youngest, so I’m in charge of the Patch, the online site for the magazine. My boss thinks the internet will never take the place of the print newspaper, so he doesn’t put much stock into the site. That’s okay, I’m also a blogger on my own time, and don’t mind keeping the paper up to date online.”

Holy crap … I don’t think she took a breath at all, I thought as I stood there holding the jars of sauce, my mouth slightly open.

“Anywho, I’ve been watching you for a while, ever since you posted those pictures of your husband and that gratuitous beaver shot all over town. I really like what you did there, sticking it to the cheaters in the world, and I’d love to interview you for the paper … I’d also love to do an expose of you on my blog.”

Carmen paused and I wondered if this was the part where I was supposed to speak. There was so much information in what she just said, that I wasn’t sure where to start.

She brought her venti coffee cup to her lips and took a long sip, causing me to wonder who the hell had given this woman coffee. She needed the energy like I needed syphilis … Not at all!

“Um,” I started, when I realized that she was breaking for me to respond. “What did you want to interview me about? Leaving my husband?”

“No, silly,” Carmen replied, pulling her long caramel hair back with her free hand, twisting it, and laying it across her shoulder. “I want to do an interview about how you went from housewife to badass vigilante.”

“I’m not a vigilante,” I replied, looking around for hidden cameras. Because either I was being recorded, or this beautiful nut was messing with me.

“A private investigator then,” she amended.

“No, not one of those either,” I replied, then felt frustration rise that yet another person had seen me out taking pictures for Moose. I guess the joke was on me, I wasn’t incognito at all. It was a wonder I managed to get the drop on anyone.

“But,” she began, chewing her bottom lip, her face full of confusion. “Didn’t you catch the bank teller and the pawn shop owner?”

I looked around, felt pretty sure we were alone, and leaned down to say, “It’s not really common knowledge that I did that, and I’d like to keep it that way. But, no, I don’t usually get involved that much. Usually I just take the pictures for my boss. I’m an investigative photographer.”

The confusion cleared and her face brightened again. I took a step back when she started bouncing excitedly on the soles of her feet.

“But don’t you see, you’re a great role model for women. Out there kicking ass and catching bad guys in the act … What a great story

! We could talk about how you went from housewife, to a camera phone beaver shot, to being an investigative photographer. That’s a BIG leap! We could talk about some of the cases you solved, leaving names out of course, and how your life has changed. How you turned one terrible moment in your life to a positive one, by using it to help others.”

Even as her compliments warmed me, and I had to admit, I liked that she thought I was a badass, I was still thinking she was a little off her rocker.

“I don’t know … I kind of like the fact that most of the town is clueless about what I do. I don’t know if posting an expose about it would be a good idea.”

“Will you think about it?” Carmen asked, lifting her giant duffel bag of a purse and searching through it. After a few seconds she said, “Score,” then pulled a business card out and handed it to me. “Just give me a call, text, or email when you’re ready, and we can set something up.”

I put the coconut curry sauce back on the shelf, put the butter chicken sauce in my basket, then accepted her business card.

“Butter chicken is the bomb,” she said, indicating my cart, then added, “It was great to meet you,” before twirling and practically skipping down the aisle.

I was exhausted just watching her.

“You too, Carmen,” I called after her, then put her card in my back pocket and continued down the aisle.

“Do you mind if I take Elena tonight, let her and Cassidy have a slumber party?”

I looked up from licking the buttercream frosting off the cupcake in front of me and said, “Yeah, of course, Elena would love that.”

I was on my way to meet Cade for lunch, but had stopped for a little pick-me-up.

What? Yes, I was eating a cupcake before I met Cade for lunch, but it was the first time I’d be seeing him since the night we slept together, so I needed it.

When my cell phone rang, and I saw that Moose was calling, I told Amy May I’d be right back and walked out of the bakery to take the call.

“What’s up?”

“I need you to get this shit done … Today!”

I held the phone away from my ear, looking at it with horror and confusion at Moose’s tone.

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