________
Connor
“Glahh!” That was the high-pitched noise that left my throat when I realized I had a gigantic, hairy spider clinging to my shirt. “You’re a monster!”
I backtracked into the yard, holding the fabric of my shirt away from my skin, and all the while Melissa followed me with the incriminating cup in her hands.
It was payback of the most diabolical kind, her screaming to draw me over there, just so she could throw a spider at me.
Every time I thought I had the woman figured out, she changed the rules. I didn’t know if anything else was in that cup, but I didn’t want to find out.
“Wait!” She edged closer, making me back up faster, and the farther we moved from the porchlights the less I could see. My ankle twisted as I hit an old gopher hole, and I went down, scraping my palms in the dirt.
I quickly scrambled to my feet and held my arms out at my sides in a frozen position, afraid if I moved, the spider would move up my neck and bite me. It was no longer on my chest where I’d last seen it, but that was far from comforting. It could be anywhere. It could be on my pants.Oh, please don’t let it be on my pants. I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut. “This is war, Melissa. Just wait and see what creepy-crawly thing ends up on you after this.”
“It was an accident. Calm down and let me search you. I’m trying to help.” She put down the cup and pulled out her phone, turning on flashlight mode.
I held still as she shined the flashlight up and down my body. She stepped closer and ran her hand down the folds of my shirt, making me shiver. She smelled like citrus blossoms and spun sugar. It was all part of her evil plan to break me down step by step, I told myself.
Then she lifted my shirt up and flashed her phone on my skin. After checking there, her eyes glanced up, meeting mine before she quickly looked away. Was she blushing?
“How was throwing a spider on me an accident?” I asked in a voice I hoped was calm.
Melissa moved to my back and checked there. “I was taking it outside. I didn’t know you were standing there. You startled me.” There was a little wobble to her voice that set my heart beating faster than it already was.
Was our close proximity affecting her as much as it was affecting me? My brain followed the movement of her hands, first on my shoulder blades, and then where she touched my arms to lower them. She ran her warm fingers across my forearms before pulling away, which was completely unnecessary and yet totally welcome. I’d officially lost my mind. She could dump a bunch of new spiders on me and I’d thank her and report for inspection.
“I think it’s gone. I’m sorry. I meant to just throw him out in the yard.”
“So he could find his way into my place next?” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“That was the hope.” She grinned. “I can’t believe you’re afraid of spiders.”
“I’m afraid of spider hitchhikers. There’s a difference.”
“Hey!” a familiar voice called from the porch. Natalya stood under the porchlight holding Melissa’s little dog. “Tell Connor to go away now. It’s not like he came in time to save us from anything anyway.”
“I stopped to put pants on.” I’d been about to go to bed. In hindsight, throwing on a pair of track pants and a T-shirt had saved me from skin-on-skin contact with an arachnid. That was a win in my book.
“Good to know you care more about your pants than our safety,” Natalya huffed. “We could have been dying in here.”
“I’m glad you put on pants,” Melissa murmured next to me. “For what it’s worth.”
She began to laugh and so did I, making Natalya even more irritated with us. I waited until they were both inside before going home, where I stripped down and showered before I felt confident enough to go to bed, knowing I was spider-free.
9
________
Melissa
It turned out I didn’t need to plan an adventure for Monday evening, because as soon as I mentioned my intentions to buy and plant grass seed this week, Granny was all about going with me to shop.
I should have known not to say anything to her about it. The only thing Granny liked more than solving crimes was a shopping trip where someone else was spending the money, and she had free rein to give advice.
She read her latest letter from Damien on the way to the home improvement store. This week, his postmark was from Mississippi. Maybe he truly was wandering the country like a nomad, looking for more unsuspecting women to con. Maybe his sweet letters of fake devotion were just practice. I didn’t read the ones he sent me anymore. It was better not to let him in my head.
I got Granny in a motorized scooter at the front of the store, and we headed over to the lawn and garden section.
