Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments Page 89

His thumb brushed my cheek as he searched my eyes. “I’m not so sure. He has it out for me. He might use you to get to me.”

Little did Mason realize how safe I was. “Mason, Skeeter Malcolm has bigger fish to fry than me. I’m fine. I just overreacted.”

“Maybe you should stay home today.”

I groaned. Why hadn’t I hid my shock? Now I was making him worry over nothing. “I can’t. I promised Violet that I’d cover for her at the nursery this morning. She has a doctor’s appointment.”

“Doctor’s appointment? Is she sick?”

Now that he mentioned it, I hadn’t asked. “I’m sure it’s just a check-up, but the new girl can’t handle the nursery on her own yet.”

He gave me a gentle kiss. “I’m sure I’m the one overreacting now. But if anything happened to you—” He gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but I think we need to cancel our trip to my uncle’s cabin.”

“Mason, it’s okay.”

He shook his head, his eyes full of sadness. “No, it’s not. Not really. I keep canceling things on you. I’m giving you the message that you’re not important to me.”

I grabbed both sides of his face. “I assure you, that couldn’t be further from the truth.” I still hadn’t told him about my own discoveries and now he didn’t have time to hear them. “I know how much you love me. I’m counting on it.”

He kissed me again, giving me a good idea of what he had in mind to help fill our time if we had gone to the cabin. When he leaned back he shifted on the bed and gave me an ornery grin. “I better go before I lose all volition to leave your side.”

I gave him a look of mock reprimand. “We can’t have you getting in trouble, so get goin’ and I’ll see you tonight.”

He started to get up, then sat back down. “You wanted to talk to me about something.”

I wanted to tell him everything, but I didn’t want to make him late or give him the thirty-second version. Besides, it wouldn’t make much of a difference if he found out now or tonight, would it? I rubbed his chest, staring into his eyes. “It can wait. I’ll tell you later.”

He looked at his watch, then back at me, clearly torn.

“Mason. I promise. It’s okay.” I offered him a smile to assure him. “I love you.”

He gave me another kiss, then stood, taking in the sight of my naked body. “My mind will definitely not be on my work.”

I pulled the covers up to my chin, grinning. “Go.”

“I’ll take Muffy out before I go.”

“Now I really love you.”

“Come on, Muff.” He headed out the bedroom door, Muffy racing after him. As soon as I heard the door open and close downstairs, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, intent on sending Skeeter a text. My own investigation paled in comparison to the double murder. I couldn’t believe the man I had come to know, the man who’d assured me he was the least dangerous ruler of all the criminals in Fenton County, would do such a thing. So why did I need his reassurance that he hadn’t?

But when I pulled out my phone to type a message, I was surprised to see a text from a number I didn’t recognize, which had come in at around midnight.

I heard you would like to meet with me to talk about Dora. How about we meet for lunch at Big Bill’s Barbecue before I head to the hospital for my shift? Say 1:00? –Hattie

In all the excitement of the morning, I’d forgotten I was waiting to hear back from her. I texted back.

I’ll be wearing a black wool coat and a red scarf.

I got out of bed and pulled on my robe, putting my phone in the pocket before I headed downstairs to start a pot of coffee. I was at the base of the stairs when the front door swung open, and Mason’s head poked in as Muffy raced toward the kitchen.

“I’m headed out, sweetheart. Lock the door and turn on the alarm after I leave.”

I rolled my eyes. “Go already.” I gave him a quick kiss, then shut the door behind him and locked it, watching through the window as he climbed into his car and took off. After I started the coffee, I found the courage to text Skeeter, hoping he would understand my message if I kept it vague.

Did you have anything to do with the incident south of town?

About thirty seconds passed before my phone rang, SM showing up on the screen.

“Did you?” I asked without bothering to preface it with a greeting.

“Not my style.” He sounded gruff. And offended. “Do you believe me?”

I knew he had his own style of justice, but I didn’t believe torture was part of his repertoire. Or maybe I just couldn’t connect the man I’d shared my troubles with last night to a man who would condone such a thing. “Yes, I believe you, but the sheriff thinks you did it.”

“Shit.” He was quiet for a few moments. “Do they have any hard evidence linking me to it?”

My temper flared. “Why would you be asking that if you weren’t a part of it?”

“Because someone is probably setting it up to look like I was!” he barked. “Just like that damn knife in your boyfriend’s desk drawer.”

I pushed out a breath, feeling guilty about accusing him after I’d just finished saying I believed him. And he was right. Back in December, the farmhouse had been broken into and Mason’s office had been rifled through. Joe had found a pocketknife that belonged to Skeeter, although neither Joe nor Mason had actually believed he’d left it there. “So who do you think did it?”

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