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I looked at her with a sarcastic thank you then turned back to Molly.

“I really am sorry. Please let me pay for the dishes.”

But Molly brushed it off. “Don’t worry your pretty head over it. Best you go home and get yourself cleaned up. No point hanging around here any longer looking like you mopped the floor with your blouse.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. And make sure you take that there box of leftovers I’ve fixed you.” She pointed to a white cardboard box sitting on the counter.

“Well that’s just great! She breaks dishes and gets an early mark,” Daisy huffed, dramatically throwing her hands up in the air. “And she gets dinner!”

She pushed the swinging doors leading out into the café and resumed her spot at the window, dreamily gazing down the street.

“I really am sorry,” I said to Molly again. “You’re not going to call me later and tell me to not come in on Friday, are you?”

She smiled warmly as she patted my cheek. “I’ll see you back here at ten o’clock.”

I was so relieved I could’ve hugged her. Now that I was staying in this town, I needed this job.

“Thank you. I promise, no more broken dishes.”

As I passed Daisy, she smiled at me. “Good work today.”

“Really? You think I can make it as a waitress?”

“No. But I like having you around.” She gave me a wink. “See you Friday.”

I left the café with a smile on my face and walked home in the late afternoon sunlight, armed with a box of leftovers that included sandwiches, potato salad, and a slice of pecan pie.

Thirty minutes later, I walked down my street but came to a halt as soon as I saw the car in the driveway. It was a Pontiac. An unfamiliar Pontiac.

Fear began a slow crawl up my spine. In six weeks, Craig and Missy had never had a visitor. Craig was basically a loner, and Missy did most of her socializing at the bar where she worked.

I approached the porch cautiously and paused at the front door, listening for voices, but all I could hear was someone playing a Metallica song on an electric guitar. I frowned and pushed the screen door open, stepping inside where I found Craig sitting in the living room, murdering “Wherever I May Roam.”

What the hell?

Since when did Craig own an electric guitar?

My eyes went to the Xbox packaging beside him on the couch.

Or an Xbox for that matter?

I looked around at the discarded boxes of things littering the floor.

Craig had been on a spending spree. Electronics. A sound system.

A Pontiac in the driveway.

Craig didn’t have a job. Didn’t have an income. So what bullshit scam was he involved in that he could afford all of this stuff? I thought about asking him. But in all honesty I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want him dragging me into whatever redneck bullshit he was a part of.

Instead, I walked upstairs and found Missy in her room.

“Hey,” I said, flopping down on the bed. “Am I seeing things or has Craig been on a crazy spending spree?”

When she didn’t answer, I became aware of the tension in the room. She was folding laundry from the basket and putting it away, doing everything she could not to look at me.

I sat up. “Is everything okay?”

“Why do you give him a hard time? You know he’s a bit slow. You don’t need to be such a bitch to him.”

Whoa.

“Okay…” I said, confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. But you must admit, it’s a bit suspicious that he’s got all this new stuff. How did he pay for it? He doesn’t even have a job.”

“Oh, so now that you’ve got a job you’re suddenly better than him. Is that it?”

I was taken back. “No, that’s not what I was—”

“Why don’t you cut him some slack, Cassidy. What has he ever done to you?”

I thought about him jerking off with my underwear.

But I didn’t mention it.

“You must admit, it’s a bit curious…” I let the sentence trail off because Missy seemed really agitated and I didn’t want to add to it. “Hey—I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“It’s fine,” she replied stiffly, pulling out a T-shirt from the laundry basket. She started folding it, and either it had pissed her off and she was taking out her anger on it or she was pissed at me about something.

I climbed off the bed. “Are you sure you’re okay because I’m picking up some pretty negative vibes. Has something upset you? Have I?”

She threw the half-folded T-shirt back into the basket and rounded on me with mean eyes. “Admit it, you can’t stand that I’ve found someone. That a man wants to be with me.”

Her accusation came so far out from left field it gave me whiplash as she hurled it at me.

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