My cell phone started ringing, so I hopped out of my chair to retrieve it off the desk, nearly passing out when I saw the caller’s name on the screen.
Skeeter Malcolm.
Chapter Two
Neely Kate stood and took several steps toward me. “Rose, you look as pale as a ghost. Who is it?” She grabbed the phone out of my hand and glanced at the screen. “SM.” She gave me an ornery grin. “I didn’t know you and Mason were into that. Is he trying to give you some secret code?”
I stared at her for a second until I realized what she was saying. “What? No! It stands for Skeeter Malcolm!”
“What’s with the initials?”
“I can’t very well have the new king of the Fenton County crime world’s name on my phone, now can I? Not with an Assistant DA for a boyfriend and a chief deputy sheriff ex.”
“Are you gonna answer it?”
I looked at the still-ringing phone. “I’m thinking. . .”
Bruce Wayne emerged from the tiny back room. “Darby promises to have someone here first thing tomorrow morning, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.” He took one look at the two of us staring at my ringing cell phone and stopped in his tracks. Fear crawled into his eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“What should I do, Bruce Wayne?”
He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, shrugging off his fear as he moved forward a few steps. “Don’t answer it. I’ll call his brother Scooter to see if I can find out what he wants.”
I nodded, my heart racing. “Okay.” Whatever Skeeter wanted couldn’t be good. He was never going to leave me alone now that I’d used my visions to save his life . . . even though I’d spent the past couple of weeks pretending otherwise.
The phone stopped ringing, but the three of us continued to stare at it, as if we expected it to sprout legs and attack us.
“Don’t you be gettin’ mixed up with him again,” Neely Kate finally said. “You got off lucky last time. The next time . . .” She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. There were a whole host of scenarios that could play out, not a single one of them good.
After Daniel Crocker, the previous crime lord, had died—at my own hands—his business had been put up for auction by his second-in-command. Before Crocker’s death, Skeeter had been the second most powerful criminal in the county, but he didn’t like playing second fiddle to anyone. So it wasn’t hard to figure out that he wanted Crocker’s business something fierce, which is why I’d gone to him with information about the guys who’d been robbing businesses around town—my bank deposit included—to collect money in an effort to outbid him. I’d hoped we would part ways permanently after he returned my money to me. I’d been na?ve. Not that Bruce Wayne hadn’t warned me.
“Don’t worry, Rose,” Bruce Wayne said. “We’ll figure something out. You’re not alone in this.”
Neely Kate grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you. But Skeeter Malcolm is bad news.”
“I know. I’m trying to get out of it.”
Neely Kate’s newest ringtone—“Wildflower” by The JaneDear Girls—broke the silence. She dug into her rhinestone-covered purse and pulled out her phone. “Huh. It’s my aunt. She never calls.” She answered the phone. “Hey, Aunt Thelma.”
Bruce Wayne grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. “Rose, I’m gonna run by the hardware store to get more hangers so we can put up the other two pictures.”
“Good idea. Thanks, Bruce Wayne.”
I caught part of Neely Kate’s conversation as he went out the door.
“Nope, I haven’t seen her,” she said. “Did you check with Billy Jack? Last I heard, she was kinda living with him . . . What about her work?” She frowned. “Huh. Okay, let me know if you hear anything.”
She stuffed her phone into her coat pocket and plopped down in my office chair. I grabbed Bruce Wayne’s and rolled it next to her.
“Everything okay?” I asked, sitting down.
“My aunt’s worried because she hasn’t talked to my cousin in a couple of days.” Her teeth tugged on her lower lip. “Dolly usually checks in with her momma every day, but she’s been known to disappear for a day or two when she hooks up with a new guy. Still, this is a long time, even for her.”
I sucked in a breath. “Do you think something happened to her?”
Neely Kate shook her head. “Naw. She’s probably okay. Aunt Thelma’s branch of the family tree is a bit shaky.” Her mouth tipped up into a grin. “My aunt married a mucker.”
“Excuse me?”
“He mucks out pig pens. It’s dirty, stinky work.”
“And that makes her family tree branch shaky?”
“Heck no. There’s no shame in being a mucker, but it’s all he talks about. He’s a few cans shy of a six pack.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway.” She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. “Aunt Thelma married Melvin the Mucker—”
I held up my hands. “Wait. That’s what you call him?”
Neely Kate gave me a blank stare. “Well . . . yeah.”
“Okay, go on.”