He gave her a lazy salute.
She waved back and called, “Just watching for the great horned owl!”
Loud enough to wake the actual owl. And maybe three neighbors.
Nothing happened in Gi Gi’s Crossing without Harriet knowing it. And if she didn’t know it, she’d improvise.
From down the path, Frankie’s voice rang out again. “Who’s there? I’ve got stilettos and zero hesitation.”
Marcus blinked, biting back a laugh. He would have figured her for being more original than repeating an old offense.
“You’ve been warned!” she added, clearly not seeing him yet. “I may be from Manhattan, but I know how to hit center mass.”
Don’t I know it.
She emerged from the shadows a moment later, nearly colliding with him.
“Francesca B?” He held the flashlight steady, letting its beam land on her.
She was a mess. Her curls, now red, were slightly askew, and her expression flickered between irritation and frazzled nerves. She’d changed into a form-fittingemerald green dress and black heels, which she held in one hand. On her feet were bunny house slippers.
“Oh, there you are, Marcus D,” she said, sweeping a hand dramatically toward the darkness behind her. “You won’t believe the fun little surprise I just had. First, I was nearly kidnapped. Possibly. Or stalked. It’s hard to say when it’s pitch black, there’s smoke in the air, and you’re running for your life in slippers. And then she leaned in, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “Someone shouted something about watching the great horned owl.” Her eyes went wide. “Which I’m assuming is either the code name for their next victim or a serial killer signature. Either way, I took it as my sign to bolt.”
Marcus blinked. “Did you say smoke?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to need more context on the smoke.”
“Oh, it was the funniest thing. One moment, there was light, and the next, poof, darkness. And this darling little wisp of smoke tickled my nose. Isn’t that just the strangest?”
His attention sharpened. “Did you see a fire?”
“Oh, I didn’t see a single thing, but that’s not the important part. The important part is that I got this silly feeling someone was looking in the bedroom window, and it gave me the cutest little fright.”
How in the hell had she sensed Harriet up in the tree? “I’m certain it did give you a fright. What happened next?”
“I did what any resourceful heroine would do. I found the closest thing, my shoe, bless its heart, and gave it a good toss. Not the pair I’d laid out for dinner, of course. I’m not a savage. I grabbed the muddy one from earlier, a Jimmy Choo no less. Poor thing had already met its untimely end via mud puddle ambush. It died too soon, but at least it went out with purpose.”
Marcus rubbed his temple where the scar she’d given him lived. What was it with this woman and her penchant for throwing shoes? “It’s always nice when you can look back and say someone, or something, died with purpose.” A fuzzy image of his mom zipped in and peeled out. Not Gi Gi. His birth mom.
“You are the absolute best for getting it. Now, would you like to know what happened when I sent my shoe on its death journey?”
“It broke the window,” he said, already bracing.
“Exactly! And now there’s this dreadful draft, brr, and I’m afraid I’ve made an absolute mess of things.”
He stared at her for a long moment, processing. “Let me get this straight. The lights went out. You smelled smoke but didn’t see fire. You thought you saw someone in the bedroom, so you threw a shoe and shattered a window?”
“Yes. Isn’t it just the silliest thing? And now here I am, in my slippers because I’m telling you dirt roads and stilettos do not mix, hoping you’ll have a marvelous solution.”
“Sensible shoes would solve the footwear problem,” Marcus said.
“Bite your tongue. Francesca B does not wear sensible shoes. The horror.”
“I have no other solution.”
“I was thinking, perhaps the manor owns a cute little golf cart I could commandeer for transportation between our houses?”
