Calamity Jayne and the Sisterhood of the Traveling Lawn Gnome (14 page)

I shook my head. Jealousy. That little green monster.

I sighed. Did one ever really get used to being a blonde bombshell?

Okay. Okay. You can stop laughing now.

I called the sheriff's office to make arrangements to see Doug Samuels and pass along the information we'd found at Dusty's but was informed that the acting sheriff was out of town and wouldn't be back in the office until the next morning.

I shrugged. Oh, well. I tried.

I pointed my Plymouth in the direction of home when my cell phone started playing the theme from
The Golden Girls
. You guessed it. My gammy's ringtone.

"Hello, Mrs. Townsend," I said.

"Who?"

I shook my head. Gram still had trouble remembering that since her marriage to Joe, she was now a Townsend. Funny. I kind of did, too.

"Hello, Gram. What's up?"

"I just wanted to find out what time you were picking us up."

"Picking you up?" I frowned.

"For our double date. Me and Joe are double-dating with you and Rick tonight. Dinner and a movie. Remember?"

Oh, crap.

"Gee, Gram, things are so crazy at work, it totally slipped my mind."

"Good thing I called to remind you, isn't it? So where we goin'?"

I sighed. I'd have to push back our stakeout time. Fortunately, my gammy had an early bedtime.

"How about Mexican?" I suggested.

"No can do. Had me a bad reaction to Frank's belly burner the other night. "

"Chinese?"

"Got carry out for lunch yesterday."

"Burgers?"

"I can get that half-price at the Freeze."

I sighed.

"Why don't you pick?" I said.

"I'm feeling…porky," she said.

"What?"

"Baked beans, coleslaw, ribs. You know. Porky."

"Best's Bar-B-Que. Got it."

"Pick us up at five thirty. That'll give us an hour and a half to chow down before the movie."

"What's playing anyway?" I asked.

"Some 'you mess with my family, you die!' movie Joe wants to see."

Merely conjecture mind you, but I'm guessing Liam Neeson here, and I got noo problem with that.

"You makin' any progress on my case?" she asked.

"Case?"

"Abigail's homely hobbit," Gram said. "You find him yet?"

"Gnome, Gram. Gnome. And I'm working on it," I told her. Oh, boy was I ever working on it. "So I guess we'll pick you up at 5:30 then."

"I don't want to smell like Rover, so unless you borrow the Buick from Taylor, leave the drivin' to your boyfriend," she ordered.

It might've occurred to me to be insulted had all my attention been focused on one word.

Boyfriend
.

Ranger Rick Townsend was Tressa Jayne Turner's
boyfriend
.

Tressa Jayne Turner was Rick Townsend's
girlfriend
.

I swallowed around the lump that had settled in my throat.

Boyfriend and girlfriend
.

It still didn't seem…real. Maybe that's why I was having trouble believing it. You know. The old "too good to be true" warning that makes you think twice before buying that heckuva deal gadget off Craigslist and has you conducting a background check on the "amazing" guy you met on an online dating site before setting up a meet-'n'-greet.

Ever since I'd let Townsend shiver-me-timbers on the honeymoon cruise, I'd felt like I hadn't quite got my land legs back. You know. A bit shaky. A little cautious. A tad unsure. A lot nervous. Always before when I made a momentous decision I didn't think twice, didn't second guess, didn't look back. It was full steam ahead come what may.

So why was committing to a relationship with Rick Townsend so different? Why was I so tentative and tense? Why so uneasy and edgy? What had my gut feeling like I'd consumed way too many green bananas and yams?

"Ugh." I rubbed my stomach.

"Tressa? You still there? What's all that moanin'? You all right?"

Was I? Time would tell.

"I'm here, Gram. And I heard you on the transport requirements," I said.

"And don't be late," she said. "I don't want to have to shovel the food in. I'll be belching barbeque like a steam engine all during the picture."

"I'll be on time, Gram," I said, reminding myself to put Gammy next to Townsend in the theater. "See you tonight."

I hit end and thought about Best's Bar-b-cue coming back up on Gram all night and rubbed my stomach again. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have some antacid tablets on hand. Just in case.

I pulled into a parking space near the pharmacy on the square and hurried in. I'd pick up a few items, run home and clean up, and arrive at my gammy's house before she finished applying the second coat of perma-freeze hair spray.

I found myself in the aisle with the feminine products, and my gaze slid down the shelves to the section with the boxes that contained the little squares of er, contraception protection. If I purchased this product to have on hand, that would mean something, wouldn't it? In terms of the C-word. As in commitment. I bit my lip. Should I or shouldn't I?

I'd just picked up a box when a familiar voice reached me in the back of the store.

"You mean my heart pills aren't in again? A person could die waiting for her heart meds and you'd have a hell of a lawsuit on your hands."

I winced.

Marguerite Dishman—more commonly known as Manny DeMarco's "Aunt Mo"—and my former faux aunt-to-be. I'd done a good job of avoiding Aunt Mo since I'd ended my make-believe betrothal to her nephew, Manny. Aunt Mo was like a mother to Manny. She'd raised him from a pup—one of the few items Manny shared with me about his personal life—and the reason I'd agreed to masquerade as Manny's fiancée when it appeared Aunt Mo was on her deathbed.

But Marguerite Dishman had surprised us all by defying the odds, making what seemed like a miraculous recovery. I'd agreed to hold off on breaking up with Manny until Aunt Mo had regained her strength sufficiently to handle the disappointment. In the meantime I wasn't prepared for the full-court press Aunt Mo put on me to make wedding plans, even showing up on Gram's wedding cruise to pin me down on wedding plans.

If I hadn't developed a case of amnesia on the cruise, I'd probably be taste-testing cakes and picking out invitations by now.

Since the "breakup" I'd somehow managed to avoid Aunt Mo, and I intended to postpone that magic moment for as long as I could get away with.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dishman, but we're waiting for a call back from your physician. He has to authorize the refill."

"Authorize? Is he gonna authorize a million dollar court settlement against you when Marguerite Dishman collapses on the floor because of stress? Is he?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dishman. If you'll just be patient, we'll put in a call to your doctor right away. If you'd like to have a seat—"

"Mo would like her meds," she said. "Good thing Mo don't like to drive or she'd take her business down the road to Save Smart Grocery."

"We could always deliver your medications, Mrs. Dishman," I heard the pharmacist respond.

"What? And do all Mo's bitchin' over the phone rather than in person?" Mo said. "Not on your life. Mo's nothing if she ain't real."

Oh, Lord. Aunt Mo was on a roll.

I'd just pick up my items at Bargain City, I decided, moving from one aisle to the next at the back of the store. I made it to the aisle nearest the door and inched my way to the front door.

"Tressa Turner, you can run but you can't hide! Aunt Mo sees you trying to slither out of here, missy," I heard. "You get on over here pronto!"

I made a sick face as sour stomach acid crept upwards on its way into my esophagus.

Reckoning Day.

Resolved, I headed to the pharmacy area of the store. Aunt Mo sat in one of the chairs reserved for customers waiting for their prescriptions or bored husbands waiting for the wives who insisted they accompany them.

"Oh, hey, there, uh…you," I said, unsure whether I ought to be calling her Aunt Mo any

longer.

"
You
. Hey,
you
? That's what Mo gets? Hey, you?"

I hung my head.

"I wasn't sure what to call you," I said. "You know. Given the circumstances and all."

"Mo told you to call her Aunt Mo and Mo meant it. She don't take back what she says even though other people don't operate the same. 'Sides, Mo here figures Tressa Turner will eventually come to her senses and figure out what a big mistake she made dumping my nephew."

I frowned.

"You do understand that I didn't really dump Manny—that we weren't really engaged. Your nephew simply wanted to give his beloved aunt something she wanted so very badly for him before she died, and he enlisted my help doing that. It's really very touching," I said and, for good measure, threw in a sniffle and a fingertip at the corner of my eye and dropped into the chair beside her.

"Good thing Mo's sitting down because that immense pile of bull you're shoveling is enough to bowl Mo over," she said. "Let me tell you something, Miss Tressa. Your acting? It sucks. Mo knows when someone is putting one past her. You think Mo here didn't know you were shinin' her on with all that engagement bull?"

I blinked.

"Wait. You knew it was all an act? All the time?"

She lifted her eyebrows and did a
hello
move with her head.

I frowned.

"If you knew it was a…"

"Scam?"

"If you knew all along that it was a…benevolent act performed for your benefit, why did you—?"

"Pester? Bug? Stalk?"

"…actively encourage me to plan a wedding you knew was only fiction?" I asked.

"Love," Mo said.

"Love?"

"Mo loves her nephew, Manny, like a son. Mo wants to see Manny happy. Manny deserves to be happy. Tressa Turner was the first woman to make Manny happy since—" She stopped suddenly, and I leaned forward in my chair.

"Since?"

"Never mind about that. All Mo's sayin' is Tressa Turner made Manny happy and if Tressa Turner made him happy, Mo was gonna do whatever she could to see that he got his gal. It's high time my Manny Boy was happy, that's all Mo's sayin', so don't be going all
Inside Edition
on me, hear?"

Mo's bluster and fluster intrigued the heck out of me, like she realized she'd been about to say too much and had reined herself in at the last minute.

"So you planned to steamroll me," I said.

She got a twinkle in her eye.

"Mo saw Tressa in the rubbers aisle," she said. "If a certain ranger hadn't been in the picture, Aunt Mo's pretty sure it wouldn't have taken a steam roller to get a certain cowgirl to the altar," she said and did another, "take that, missy" head and shoulders move.

I bit my lip. Could Mo be right? If Rick Townsend wasn't a factor, was it possible I would have ended up with Manny DeMarco, after all?

I shook my head. I couldn't think about that now. It was a moot point. Ranger Rick was not only a factor, he was my boyfriend, I reminded myself.

"I talked to your other nephew earlier," I said.

"Oh? You talked to Mick? How come?"

"I'm working on a story, and I asked him to keep his ear to the ground for anything he might pick up at the high school. He seems to do well with the ladies," I said, thinking about the pretty cheerleader I'd seen with Mick.

Mo smiled. "Mick's got game," she agreed.

"Chip off the ol' block, right?" I said.

She looked at me. "What do you mean?"

"His cousin certainly has game," I said.

"Oh. Yes. Manny's got plenty of that."

"So, how well do you know Mick's girlfriend?" I asked, thinking the way the girl had reacted both times she saw me was weird.

"Jada? Don't know her real well. Mick's only been seein' her for a few months."

I stared at her.

"Jada? That's her name? Jada?"

"Yeah."

"Jada who?"

"Jada something or other. Mo can't remember her last name. Something Hispanic, I think. Starts with a
G
. But the girls? They come, and they go. Like Mo said, Mick's got that Dishman lady-killer charm."

I frowned.

"And this Jada is Mick's girlfriend?"

"Yeah. She's Mick's girlfriend. Why you all het up and in Mo's face 'bout Mick's love life?"

"I'm interested is all," I said. "That's the kind of person I am. I'm interested in people. It's just my nature."

Mo shook her head. "I see you're still tryin' for a raspberry award," she said.

I blinked. "Huh?"

"The Razzies!
For the worst acting performance," she clarified. "Miss Tressa Jayne Turner be a shoo-in, she would."

I grimaced.

"So Mick's only been dating this Jada since school started?" I tried again.

"What you mean by 'this Jada'? Tressa Turner know something Aunt Mo should know?" she asked, giving me the kind of look a prosecutor gives a hostile witness.

"Oh, no. No, I'm just curious, that's all. I saw them together at school today. So, how's Manny?"

"How do you think? If Mo didn't need her heart meds, she'd give 'em to Manny for his broken heart."

I frowned. "Manny has a broken heart? He didn't seem all that shaken up when I saw him last."

"Manny hides his feelings well, missy. Don't Tressa know that?"

I supposed Tressa did.

"Mrs. Dishman! We have your prescription!"

"'Bout time," Aunt Mo said, and I helped her to feet. "Mo wouldn't be happy if she missed her court shows. You wouldn't mind givin' Aunt Mo a ride home, would you, Tressa?"

"No. Of course not. Be happy too," I said, trying not to sound like I was still auditioning for a raspberry.

"No need, Barbie," I heard behind me. "Manny's got it covered."

I turned. He did indeed have it covered. In fact, he obliterated everything around him. A big, rock-hard wall of black, Manny stood with his arms crossed staring down at me. Every time I see Manny, he seems larger than the last time I saw him. Sometimes I find myself staring at all those chiseled muscles in wonder and amazement and it takes me a while to rediscover the ability to speak.