Wyatt knew what he was going to do, as long as they allowed him access to that goo splatter gun. Pow! A purple pellet planted right between that criminal’s big stupid front teeth.
Chapter Twelve
Valene stirred awake slowly after what seemed like a troubled sleep. Her head ached and she couldn’t remember where she was or what time it was or even what day it was.
Am I sick?
“Valene,” a hauntingly familiar voice said.
Her eyes opened and she saw him. He smiled at her. Then she remembered…a little.
Wyatt’s spine stiffened as he knocked on Daphne Charlene’s door.Don’t forget to be nice. Don’t forget to be nice.
She answered after keeping him waiting for excruciatingly long seconds. She looked like she’d just woken from a long, unexpected nap. The moment she saw him, she perked up. “Wyatt! What are you doing here?” She opened the door wider and motioned him inside. He pulled the screen open, and stepped across her threshold, purposely leaving the front door open.
“I was in the neighborhood and wondered if you were free for lunch.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What about Valene?”
“Didn’t work out,” he lied again.
Wyatt didn’t know what was going to happen between him and Valene ultimately. He did know it was very difficult to pretend any interest in Daphne Charlene when he was worried sick about Valene.
Was she hurt? Was she afraid? Did she miss him? His blood pressure rose at the mere thought of anything negative with regard to his love, so he tried to settle his mind as another thought occurred. Valene didn’t even know he’d been proven innocent of tattling about aliens living in plain sight or the lie about what happened in his kitchen last night. Yet.
Wyatt looked around the living room, wondering where Daphne Charlene would keep a fake ID for a friend and also how to ask her to reveal it.
Across the room, he spotted a small open rolltop desk with rows of cubbies and little doors. Centered on the open surface was a brown paper-wrapped package. “Is that a package you received or one you’re sending,” he asked, pointing to the parcel. Was it the infamous ID they were supposed to trade tonight?
She turned to see where he pointed and made a face, like the package puzzled her. “I’m not sure.” She walked to the desk as Wyatt followed, motioning with a deft hand behind his back for the others to enter quietly.
Daphne Charlene looked down at the package and frowned. “I’ve never seen this before.”
In the center was the name Rowan. “The return address is yours,” Wyatt said, running his finger over it. “Who is Rowan?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was delivered to me by accident.”
Before he could stop her, she picked it up and shook it like a Christmas present and she was a kid trying to discover the treasure inside.
Wyatt didn’t think that was a very good idea and pulled the box from her, placing it gently back on the desk. “Don’t do that to a strange package.” She shrugged and moved closer to him.
He pulled his trusty pocketknife out and slit the loosely applied paper off one end to slide a shoebox out.
“Wait. That’s my shoebox.”
Wyatt carefully lifted the lid to peek inside. There were no shoes in there.
He felt rather than heard the others approach.
“What’s inside the box?” Diesel asked.
