Amid my mother’s ongoing threats I’d never make it on my own in Maine and her continued reminder she and my father would bail me out if I lost it all, she did do one good thing. She made me promise to buy pepper spray. I imagine it’s mainly because she pictures people who live in Maine as a bunch of degenerates who wander around in old Civil War uniforms.
Don’t laugh. My theory is proven every time she calls and asks if I’ve attended any reenactments.
Actually, come to think of it, Pearl did promise they have a fairly large Civil War battle reenactment happening at the Fourth of July Festival in a few days. I definitely won’t be sending home pictures from that town gathering.
Pepper spray or not, I don’t think I can call a mob boss. “Why do I have to call Frankie? This is your plan, Katy. You should call him.”
“Me?” she asks, her hand on her chest. “He’s probably some slimy old guy and besides it’s you he’s after. He didn’t leave me his phone number.”
“So what are we going to do?” Maybe if she runs through it one more time I’ll feel better.
“See, Tabitha, Anessa is on board.”
I’m not sure I’d consider me on board with this whole plan of hers, but I haven’t come up with anything better, so I don’t object.
Katy eyes Tabitha. “Anessa will call the old scary guy now,” she says like it’s the most obvious answer.
Now? I guess there’s no time like the present.
My phone lays silently on the edge of the prep table. It’s one of the new sleek designs that hasn’t done me a ton of good since I moved to Pelican Bay with the spotty service. But it’s force of habit to keep it with me at all times. Sometimes I have a need to crush some candy during a slow period.
It’s a tiny little technological device, but when I pick it up, the thin rectangle feels substantial.
My tummy curls with nerves. Bennett would not like me doing this. Although with the thought of his name my lips pucker in anger. I should do it to spite Bennett.
Okay. Deep breath. I can do this.
“Oh my gosh, Anessa.” Katy stomps over to my side. She grabs the business card from the table and punches in the numbers. A quick “here” before she shoves the phone back in my hand.
The phone rings. “It’s ringing.”
Holy shit, it’s ringing! What was I thinking? This is my dumbest idea ever.
I’m about to hang up the call and throw the entire phone away when the ringing stops.
“Anessa Curtis, I’m so glad to hear from you. I’ve been waiting until the day we could talk.” His voice is smooth and steady. There’s no gun fire in the background or people screaming.
“Um… Hey. How do you know my name?”
He chuckles, a deep baritone sound. Not at all what I expected from the mobster—the kingpin mobster at that. It doesn’t sound like he’s a smoker at all and definitely under the age of seventy.
“I make it a priority to know the facts about people who interest me.”
“I interest you?”
He chuckles again. “Yes, my dear, you interest me greatly.”
That can’t be good.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A bird flies over my head. At least I hope it’s a bird and not a bat or some other crazy Maine creature. Don’t they have chupacabras here? Or is it Bigfoot?
Oh my God.
What if it’s both?
Or worse, some weird combination between the two. Like if Bigfoot fell in love with the chupacabra and had a baby.
