Jim appeared in the doorway wielding a wooden spoon. “You’re the psychic from the news? That’s so cool! Hey, is my nana doing okay? She died a few years ago, and she was kind of a meanie in her later years, so I was worried she wouldn’t have any friends in the afterlife.”
“My psychic powers are kind of on the fritz,” Riley explained to him. Jim looked disappointed, and she felt guilty. “But as soon as I get them back online, I’ll ask about your nana,” she promised.
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that. That’s who I inherited the girls from.”
“Back to the plan,” Josie prompted.
“I’m not taking part in something that is definitely going to end up with us in jail,” Riley said firmly.
“There’s no way this could possibly go wrong,” Jasmine insisted.
33
10:43 p.m., Tuesday, October 29
It took less than five minutes for the whole plan to go to hell.
Sure, it started off fine. Riley and Jim stayed in Jim’s yard, peering through a fireworks hole in the fence, while Josie and Jasmine went next door.
Josie rang the doorbell.
Jasmine tiptoed into the garage with her spare bag of fake spiders.
Unfortunately, none of them had anticipated Lance answering the door with his flamethrower.
Josie hadn’t even gotten the word “Hi” out of her mouth before she dove sideways into a holly bush to avoid the cloud of fire the inebriated teen shot at her.
“Oh my God,” Riley breathed.
“Is she…” Jim was squatted down at the next fireworks hole, holding both dogs like footballs under his arms.
Lance burped into the night, then slammed the door.
Josie’s head popped up out of the shrubbery.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Jim sighed.
But Riley was shaking her head as the petite but deadly woman climbed back onto the porch. “Josie’s going to kill him.”
“Look! Jasmine’s in his bedroom,” Jim said.
Sure enough, Riley caught a glimpse of Jasmine tossing fake spiders into the air like confetti through the corner window over the garage.
Riley groaned. “Lance isn’t distracted. He could be heading upstairs right— Shit.”
They watched in horror as Jasmine stopped her spidering and disappeared from the window a moment before Lance stepped into their view.
“I feel like Jimmy Stewart inRear Window,” Jim confessed.
“Does he still have his flamethrower?” Riley asked, panic making her voice two octaves higher.
Highness gave a nervous yip under Jim’s arm.
It was right about then that Josie kicked in the front door. But Lance didn’t notice because he was too busy torching his bed.
Riley jumped to her feet. She might’ve been a good girl, but she was no Jimmy Stewart. She was Grace Freaking Kelly, and she was going to go to jail with her friends.
“If you see me in handcuffs, call Santiago Investigations,” she told Jim as she hoisted herself over the fence.
