"No." I put my foot down.
Literally, it was falling asleep from me sitting cross-legged.
"No, we're not having that conversation. Not now, maybe never. It's stupid and you're not a monster."
"Tess—"
"The Monster Mash."
"Shut up!" we both said but this time the music box ignored us and merrily sang on about eerie sights and graveyard smashes, and sometimes you just have to laugh and go with the flow.
"At least Lorraine's at home. Now maybe we can talk to her directly and find out what the heck is going on and—more important—what happened fifty years ago."
Jack nodded, finishing his cone in one bite. "And I'm going to check with some friends and see what they know about this Dr. Booker. I don't know why or how she'd be lying about the skeleton, since how could she even know about what happened all that time ago? Or Earl's name, or who Lorraine was? That would have to be a very long con somebody was running to cause trouble for Lorraine, and that doesn't even make sense in any but the most paranoid fantasy kind of way."
"It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you," I said darkly, but I had to agree with his reasoning.
"Tomorrow we go see Lorraine? First thing?"
"Yes. I usually skip church on festival weekends. Too many outsiders stop by and it gets crowded and, well, I will be happy if I never, ever have to see another tourist's death while I'm in church."
Jack suddenly leaned over and scooped me up and into his lap in one smooth motion, ice cream and all.
"I'm sorry for what you've had to endure,mi amara," he murmured into my hair, holding me tight. "You are one of the bravest people I've ever known. And, believe me, that's saying a lot."
I leaned into his warmth and sighed with contentment. "Yep. Me and the king of Atlantis. We're like this." I held up two twined fingers. "What'smi amara?"
"I will tell him that at the barbecue."
I shot up off his lap and off the swing altogether, forgetting about foreign phrases and my ice cream cone, which promptly fell out of my hand onto my porch. "Oh, my goodness! I forgot all about that—I can't believe you invited King Conlan to my house for a barbecue! Aunt Ruby is going to lose her mind. She'll want to offer him the key to the city or something."
Jack threw back his head and laughed. "That would be a sight to see, for sure. Maybe we can invite him to the next festival and get him to wear the Swamp Cabbage costume."
"He's too tall," I said automatically, bending to clean up the ice cream with the napkins I'd brought out. "We could get a new one made in time for next year's festival."
I looked him up and down, a wicked smile spreading across my face. "We could have it custom-made to fit you."
"You're going to get revenge on me for leaving you with those kids, aren't you?"
"You'd better believe it."
My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket. "It's Lorraine!"
I put it on speaker. "Lorraine! Are you okay? We've been so worried about you!"
"Never mind that. Can you get over here? And bring Jack, if you know where he is. I tried to call him but he's not answering." Her voice was shaky but filled with a hum of excitement. "I have news. I haveevidence."
"I'm here, Lorraine. I left my phone in the car," Jack told her. "What evidence?"
"When I got home, I darn near tripped over a box somebody left on my porch."
My gaze flew to Jack's. Not again! But, no, Vern was in jail.
"A box?" My voice sounded squeaky, even to me.
"Don't touch it," Jack ordered. "It could be poison, or a bomb, or—"
"A book," she said. "I already opened it."
