“No. Someone tried to kill Mason yesterday.” I repeated what I’d told Bruce Wayne as I drove down side streets in an attempt to avoid Deputy Hoffstetter.
“Then what are you doing runnin’ around?” she asked. “I know you don’t want to spend all day cooped up with that cranky woman, but this isn’t worth risking your life for, Rose. If someone’s after Mason, they might be after you, too.”
“Calm down. I’m safe.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Mostly. I couldn’t escape the nagging feeling there was more to this.
“What were you really doing?” she asked in her Neely-Kate-snooping voice.
I stopped at an intersection and turned around to face her. “Honestly, Neely Kate. The less you know, the better.”
She stared at me for three full seconds. “You’ve been running around with Skeeter Malcolm again.” Her face was expressionless.
I didn’t answer.
Her eyes rolled as she threw up her hands. “You have!”
“Skeeter’s been set up to make the sheriff’s department think that he’s trying to kill Mason, but he’s not.”
She grabbed my hand and held tight, giving me a sympathetic look. “Oh, honey. Of course Skeeter says he’s not. He wants you to keep helpin’ him.”
I knew both she and Bruce Wayne believed it, but I just couldn’t. I pulled my hand from hers. “No, Neely Kate. He was being set up so he’d lose his crown as king of the underworld. There are a lot of people who are unhappy with how the auction got busted just after Skeeter won. Two of his men thought they could take out Skeeter and Mason all at the same time.”
“And you really believe that?”
“Yes, Neely Kate. I do. I had visions to back it up.”
She was silent for a moment. “Did you tell Joe?”
“No. I’m trying to figure out how to do that.”
“Okay. We’ll figure something out. Do you want to hide out somewhere so we can avoid getting caught by your deputy?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Billy Jack’s somehow involved in the plot to kill Mason. I just don’t know how, which means the threat might still exist. Skeeter doesn’t believe it, and he wants me to let it drop. But I can’t.” I turned toward her.
“Do you think it has anything to do with Billy Jack wanting to see me yesterday?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe. Maybe he knew someone was doing something to Mason’s car.”
“Did you tell Joe that?”
“Tell him what? I had a vision in Skeeter’s clubhouse, and I saw some guy talking about Billy Jack when I tried to have a vision about Mason’s attempted murder.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “You’re right. Anything else I need to know?”
I shrugged. “Maeve’s helping Violet unpack inventory at the nursery today.”
“Wow. I didn’t see that one coming.”
“I know.”
We made it to Pickle Junction without getting spotted by any Fenton County deputies, and I turned down Billy Jack’s gravel drive, my stomach knotting into a ball. “We need some kind of plan.”
“I suggest we just show up at his doorstep and ask him why he called and then didn’t show.”
I stopped the truck where I’d parked last time and glanced over at Neely Kate. “Maybe you should stay in the truck.”
“Why?”
“What if he’s still mad, Neely Kate? I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“He called me yesterday, Rose. I’m going.”
We got out of the truck and walked toward the trailer.
“His car’s here,” Neely Kate said, pointing to an old muscle car.
“It wasn’t here last time.”
“He probably had it parked in the garage behind his trailer the other day. He doesn’t like to leave it out if he thinks it’s gonna rain or snow,” she said, walking over to the black vehicle. “Hey . . . there’s a chance of snow tonight. I can’t believe he’d just leave it out like that.” Neely Kate peeked inside the passenger window. “The keys are in the ignition.” She stood up. “There’s no way he’d do that. Something’s up.”
“Let’s see if he’s home,” I said, the hair standing up on the back of my neck.
“Yeah . . .”
We walked up to the front door, and Billy Jack’s dogs started barking frantically. Neely Kate rapped on the front door, and we waited for a good ten seconds before Neely Kate knocked harder. The door creaked and opened, leaving a small gap.
“Oh, crap. That’s not good,” Neely Kate said, turning around to look at me. “He’s totally paranoid. He’d never leave his door unlocked and open.”
“Maybe we should call Joe,” I said.
“Do you think he’d come? What are we going to tell him? That Billy Jack’s car is here and he’s not home?
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Joe doesn’t care about Dolly Parton.” Neely Kate sucked in her bottom lip as she concentrated. Then she turned back to the door. “Billy Jack!” she called out. “Billy Jack! Are you home?”
The dogs went crazy barking, and Neely Kate pushed the door open wider. The Chihuahuas rushed out, and one attached itself to my leg.
“Again?” I muttered, shaking it off.