The dinner conversation focuses mostly on Pru and Vreeland’s August wedding, which Cassia is planning and Julien is photographing, and the upcoming bridal shower that Cassia has offered to coordinate on my behalf because I have zero organizational skills. As Pru’s maid of honor, I’m still in charge of the bachelorette party, but I’m leaning heavily on Cassia for advice; I’m not proud when it comes to asking for help and would even consider asking Teddy Barker, if he weren’t so self-righteous. About the only person at the table without a role in the wedding is Rafe, who listens politely. His eyes drift over in my direction every so often, causing my palms to grow sweaty with nerves.
After dinner, everyone lingers over decaf cappuccinos and dessert. Rafe and I decide to split a slice of lemon cake. “I’d like to see you again, Sophie,” he murmurs, lifting the last bite to his mouth.
“I’d like that too,” I say with a smile, despite a flutter of misgivings deep in my gut, which I blame on the stranger-danger glares Cassia keeps casting my way.
Rafe asks for my number and promptly sends me his contact info. Since I always turn down the volume when I’m having dinner, I pull out my mobile to confirm Rafe’s text came through. But what pops up causes me toinhale sharply.
“Anything wrong?” asks Rafe.
Cassia overhears him and glances at me, a small line creasing her brow. “What’s up?”
“I… I’m not sure,” I sputter. “I’ve received a couple of collect calls in the past hour, plus two voicemails—one of which is from your brother.”
“Jake left a message?” Cassia’s shoulders hunch as she retrieves her phone, probably worried in case it concerns her daughter. Scanning the screen, she releases the breath she’s been holding, visibly more relaxed. “He hasn’t called me.”
“Collect calls… Who does that anymore?” Pru wonders aloud.
Rafe shrugs. “Inmates need to make collect calls from jail.”
A twisty feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. My family and friends are all a law-abiding bunch; I can’t imagine any of them calling me from a jail cell. But… I’ve recently acquired a ridiculous new acquaintance. Has blasted Teddy Barker gotten himself arrested?
Nah. Impossible. Teddy is so squeaky clean I doubt he drives above the speed limit.
I rise from the table. “I’m sorry everyone, but I’d better be going. Something’s obviously up, possibly with the bakery.”
Rafe stands as well, pulling out my chair. “I hope everything’s alright.”
Cassia waves goodbye to our friends and joins me. We head to my car so we can listen to the messages in private.
The first is from Jake. “Hey Soph. I don’t mean to startle you, but one of your neighbors reported a burglary in progress at your place. I was chatting with Marv and Sam outside the police station, and when I heard the call come in and your address, I followed them in my car.” My cousin Jake is the mayor of Riddle Hill, and the fire chief, and alpha of the local pack. If he wants to join the police on one of their calls, no one argues. “We apprehended a strange werewolf in your cottage who claims he’s your employee and… ah… your roommate. He was wearing nothing but boxers when we found him. I honestly think he may have some screws loose. Alright, call me when you get this message.”
I pound my forehead against the steering wheel and mutter, “I don’t believe this.”
Cassia shudders. “What a creep, to be lurking inside your cottage in his underwear!”
I don’t bother explaining about Teddy Barker just yet. I scroll to the voicemail left by someone at theSIU, which I’m guessing is the Supernatural Incarceration Unit at the Riddle Hill police station, and hit playback. There’s a lot of static, and then I hear Teddy’s muffled voice; I have to raise the volume because he’s speaking so softly. He doesn’t sound nearly as sure of himself as he did earlier this afternoon, when he was shoving Auntie Dragonfly’s will in my face.
“Hi, um… it’s Teddy. I hope you’re having a good dinner and that you get this message… The thing is…. um, I got arrested. I swear I did nothing wrong. I was minding my own business, cleaning my room, and suddenly two cops charged into your home and arrested me. Can you, er… can you please come bail me out and give mea lift back to the cottage? I promise to pay you back.” Teddy’s voice hitches. “I’m sorry. Really, truly sorry. But I don’t have anyone else I can call. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
Groaning, I close my eyes and lean my head against the car seat. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days. A whole year of dealing with Teddy Freaking Barker.
Cassia stares at me as I hang up the phone. “What’s happening? Who was that?”
“Do you remember the summer we turned ten and stayed with Auntie Dragonfly for two whole weeks?” I wait for her to give me a hesitant nod before continuing. “And I accidentally broke Auntie’s Royal Vienna iridescent porcelain vase?”
Cassia’s eyes widen. “Ye-es. She’d warned you not to run through the gallery.”
“And Auntie was so mad she said I’d have to pay for it?”
“I remember. It was worth over forty thousand dollars, and you burst into tears when she handed you the bill.”
Rubbing my temples, I mumble through my clenched jaw, “Auntie Dragonfly has found a way to make me pay—over and over and over.”
“What are you talking about?” prods Cassia, sounding exasperated with my rambling.
“Leslie T. Barker is Auntie’s final revenge.”
Chapter 7
