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“Normal for me? Or normal for someone else?”
He gives me a look.
“Hey! I’m serious.”
“Normal for you. Which is still kind of scary but it’s the best we can do.” He gets up to leave. Paco and I follow him down the stairs.
Travis reaches the kitchen door, then turns around. “I hate to break our date for Saturday, but with this new development I’m going to be on call twenty-four seven.”
“I never said I’d go out with you.”
“You would have said yes. Eventually.”
“Good to know there’s nothing wrong with your ego.”
He grins like he thinks I’ve just made a joke. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind me.”
“No worries there.”
I not only lock it. I check it twice. What a night. This isn’t my first dead body, but I’m still pretty shaken up. I hate to admit it, but in this instance, Travis is right. Mobsters in Whispering Bay? I definitely need to leave this to the professionals.
I glance at the kitchen clock. It’s nine-thirty. I should probably go to bed since I have an early morning. Or I could blow off some nervous energy perfecting my mango coconut muffin recipe. Or—
Oh. My. God.
Book club!
I dash up the stairs with Paco on my heels and dial Betty Jean’s number. She picks up on the seventh ring.
“Betty Jean! I’m so sorry I missed the meeting—”
“Lucy, dear, are you in the hospital?”
“Uh, no.”
“Is there a psychotic killer holding you hostage in your kitchen again?”
“I can explain.”
“I’m listening.”
“Well, yeah, there was this emergency you see. The Bistro is all out of flour, and I had to wait here until the delivery truck came by. Can’t make muffins without flour.” I wince. This is the worst lie ev
er. And so lame that anyone with half a brain could see right through it. Only I can’t very well tell Betty Jean the truth.
“And your cell phone died? And your car ran out of gas? Oh, and let me guess. The dog ate your copy of the book.”
“Actually, I have the book on my Kindle, so that would be impossible. I’m so sorry, Betty Jean. I promise this will never happen again.”
“Oh, I know it won’t because we won’t be inviting you back.”
“But—”
“Book club begins promptly at seven p.m. We waited till eight for you and your muffins to show up. I have to tell you, Lucy, we were mightily disappointed. You promised you’d bring some of those new mango coconut muffins you’ve been bragging about.”
“It sounds like it’s my muffins you want at book club. Not me.”
“Oh, so I’m the bad guy now?”
