Her eyes ignite with that evergreen fire. “You don’t tell me what to do,” she sputters it out fast like a choo-choo train before softening in an instant. If anything good has come out of her marriage to Axel, it’s the fact he’s somehow managed to prove that Lex has a beating heart. Of course, we’ve always known that in theory but, my goodness, he’s tamed this shrew like nobody’s business. Personally, I’ve always loved the shrew living inside of her. Not only was she highly entertaining, but she was mildly a good role model as a woman trying to make her way on her own in this world, and that’s what we both are. Well, technically, she’s not on her own anymore. I am. But that’s beside the point.
“Lex, please.” I shake my head at her. “Axel is right. I’m sleeping like a baby at night.” Lies. But I’ve got at least three go-to concealers that Sunday has recommended that will turn any kind of hangover-slash-sleepless night into a far-offdream. Sunday isn’t a world-renowned beauty vlogger for nothing. The girl knows her shit, and, apparently, I’m reaping the benefits.
The scent of thick warm cologne breezes by as a body falls into the booth next to me, and before I know it, I’m staring at Axel Collin’s doppelgänger. His far younger, far more annoying brother.
“Are you talking about the case?” Shep doesn’t bother with the niceties, no lube—just bend over.
For a brief moment, I envision the two of us doing exactly that, and my cheeks begin to heat. My God, I’m such a pervert. I can’t help it. I’m unfortunately just that way. Someone says the wordpussycat, and I start to giggle. Any quasi-sexual connotation has me jumping like a seventh-grade boy. Double entendre? I’m rolling on the floor. I place the blame squarely on biology. It’s nature’s way. I figure we’re hardwired to procreate— why feel bad about my urges? If Lex knew half the things that drifted through my mind, I’m sure she’d take me to the ladies’ room and dunk my head in the toilet.
“No,” I flat line while glaring at Shep. “We’re not talking about the case. We were talking about you and how bad your feet stink. Axel here said your poor family had to keep a podiatrist on call. I hear they suggested amputating both legs below the knee just to be safe.”
Shep’s lips twitch with annoyance, and I can’t help feel a little giddy that I was able to get such a rise out of him so quickly. No lube bend over. Two can play that game. And, in truth, Shep and I have always played games with one another from the moment we met. It’s our way. But then, there was the incident of which I don’t speak of, nor think of, lest I push him out of the booth to a certain death, or in the least a mild contusion. I can pin all of my negative energy that I carry for him on that one horrifically embarrassing night. But I’m not bitter.
Axel leans in. “They’ve detained someone for questioning.”
I suck in a quick breath, and my entire body tenses before a swell of relief comes over me. “Oh, thank God,” I bleat. “Honestly, I felt as if an assassin was lingering around every corner. It was terrifying to think there was a killer on the loose, and all I have to protect myself with is a hot pink can of mace no bigger than my lipstick.”
Lex gags as she struggles to get her words out. “I knew it! You were afraid. Terrified if I’m quoting.” She gives Axel a swift swat on the arm. “I’ll have Marlin hire a personal bodyguard for you. There’s no way I want you roaming the mean streets of Hollow Brook alone.”
Both Axel and Shep have the nerve to chuckle. They keep this up, and my sister will make sure there will be two more homicides before the day is through.
Axel shakes his head while pecking a kiss over my sister’s cheek, and instantly she simmers down. It’s actually a bit miraculous to witness. He’s like the Lex whisperer.Lexywould have such a better ring to it, but that use of her name is strictly verboten. It’s what my mother called her affectionately before she unaffectionately ditched us for more exciting pastures. My sister and I haven’t even tried to look for our mother after all these years. There are some people who don’t want to be found, and we just so happen to not care to look for her. Besides, we have each other, and that’s crazy making enough.
“No way.” I’m quick to shoot down the idea of having some sixty-year-old rent-a-cop shadowing me around campus. That’s a surefire way of guaranteeing I’ll be reading books in my dorm rather than joining Harley down at the sex clubs, and I’ll be damned if that sex club isn’t looking better by the moment. “Campus security has really beefed up. I can’t go ten feet without seeing the boys in blue. And the way that Marlin keeps texting me, he’s as good as here.” I lean toward Axel. “So, what else do they know? Who was he?”
Shep takes a quick breath and expands his chest the size of a football field. “His name was Barry Larson. It turns out he was a welder from Jepson. Shot twice in the chest with a .45.”
Lex drops her jaw while looking at me as if I just threatened to pull out said .45. “Everyone knows that. It’s been all over the news. Oh, that’s right—you don’t watch the news.”
“Because it’s depressing!” I bounce in my seat, suddenly very depressed that I’m locked in this booth with the three of them.
Baya comes by and brings us each a glass of water, and we put in our orders quickly. It feels both weird and wrong to have my boss taking my order when I’m due to work a shift in less than twenty minutes. But Baya is so down-to-earth and kind, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I spent my entire shift in this booth with family.
Once she bounces back to the kitchen, Axel taps the table as if calling court back to session. “I don’t think this was random. Marlin mentioned the guy wasn’t robbed. He still had his wallet and his phone.”
Shep nods. “And he was shot at close range. It was personal.”
I offer up an indignant huff. “Or, he interrupted a drug deal—or waspartof a drug deal gone wrong. Or, it could have easily been a lunatic transient who was in desperate need of meds. God knows I’m seeing them around town more and more.”
Lex slams her hand over the table, her nose tipped to the ceiling. “Oh my God, Serena. I’m going to roll you up in bubble wrap and take you home where you belong.”
“Ha!” I’m quick to squawk at her warped bubble wrap thinking. “Let’s just put me in a locked room for the rest of my days to protect me from everything! You do realize you can never have children.”
Both Axel and Lex stare at me, wide-eyed, morbidly silent.
“What?” I shrink a little in my seat. “I meant, you’ll be one of those helicopter parents whose kids will grow up to affectionately call Lex their Smother.”
Lex glances away, and I’d swear on my life there are tears in her eyes. My stomach bottoms out because, for the love of all things holy, Lex doesn’t cry. Besides, something really awful might happen if she does—think Wicked Witch of the West meets bucket of water. It won’t end well. Lex will melt, and then I will really be lost because at the end of the day she was and is a damn good mother, to me.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth, and she waves me off, right back to her ornery self.
“Marlin said you had a run-in with the corpsebeforehe was a corpse.” She’s back to stink eyeing me on a serious level. If those lasers could bear holes into my head, I would have been Swiss cheese over a decade ago.
I look to Shep. I’ve already relayed this to him, and to the police, although I may have omitted this to my sweet and sour sis because I didn’t want to entice a level five panic. But I can see it’s too late for that.
“I bumped into him at the door.” I can’t help but scowl at Lex. “I was tying my apron, and he was trying to walk through me. It was an accident, really. He dropped his phone and this—” My mouth hangs open a moment.
That piece of paper with the string of numbers on it comes to mind. My hand pats down the front of my apron before digging in and, sure enough, it’s still there. I clear my throat, pretending to have lost my train of thought. There’s no way I’m going to whip something like that out at the table. Lex is liable to jump right out of her skin and set this entire building on fire with her rage. At this point, that receipt is tantamount to having Barry Larson’s detached finger roaming around on my person. And as gruesome as that sounds, it’s exactly how it’s beginning to feel.
