Free Mind Tricks by Adrianne Wood

ran into each
other at the grocery store, their food arrived, carried by a college-age waiter
with MARK on his name tag.
    “Hey, Mr. Vant,” the kid said as he
slid their plates in front of them. “Rosie sent me over here to take care of
you guys.”
    Emma couldn’t help herself.
“Really?” she asked. Why send over the person who’d served Jake the night Ginny
had been murdered?
    “Nah, not really,” Mark admitted.
“I volunteered. Listen, the police asked me a bunch of questions yesterday, Mr.
Vant, and they seem to think that I put something in your drink. I swear I
didn’t. I wanted to tell you that.”
    Jake was shaking his head before
Mark finished. “It never occurred to me that you’d drugged my drink, so don’t
worry about it. I’m still eating here, aren’t I?”
    “But the police—”
    “The police like to scare people.
They accuse them of big stuff to see if they will confess to something smaller,
like not reporting tips to the IRS.”
    Grinning, Mark said without shame,
“Another reason why I came over is because you tip so well. Milly is missing
out by giving up your table.”
    “Listen, Mark, can I ask you some
questions about the other night? I don’t remember a whole lot about it.”
    Mark nodded. “Yeah, they told me.
Rohypnol.”
    “You know what that is?”
    Mark looked offended, as if Jake
had asked him if he knew what his own name was. “Sure. We learned about it in
school. It’s the date rape drug. Some people black out, some people can
remember only bits and pieces, and some people get violent. I can’t talk now,
because I’m still working, but my shift ends at two. Want to meet me outside
after that?”
    “Sounds good.”
    Mark zipped off to his own section.
    That was easier than Emma had
thought it would be. Maybe Jake had the same mesmerizing effect on everyone,
not just her, which helped him get what he wanted. She reached for her lobster
roll. At least she was getting something out of this, too. “Do you think that
maybe the police were also trying to scare you? Maybe they really think Ginny
was killed by someone else, and they’re trying to get that person to lower his
guard by pretending to focus on you.”
    His expression brightened with
hope, and then he shook his head. “No. They searched my house with a warrant
yesterday, they were watching my place last night, and they came to my office
this morning to question everyone again. It’s the second morning in a row that
they’ve been by.” Jake bit into his burger and chewed. “Needless to say, morale
is low. Ginny being killed was horrifying. And having your boss as a suspect
makes everyone uncomfortable.”
    It must be even more uncomfortable
being that boss.
    Emma watched Jake covertly as he
made serious inroads on his burger. Now that they’d set up an interview with
Mark, Jake looked more relaxed. But every so often he’d flick glances at the
other diners, checking to see if they were still watching him. Emma could
practically hear the thoughts behind the fascinated stares: It isn’t every day that you get to eat in
the same room with a murderer.
    And what did they think she was?
Probably similar to those women who wrote letters to convicts and then married
them. Desperate, with little common sense.
    Well, forget them. She’d gained a
loyal clientele in a shorter time than she’d expected, and her kennel was
thriving. On most weekends, she had to turn kennel customers away. As long as
the rest of the population left her alone, she didn’t care too much what they
thought.
    But Jake…Jake cared what these
people thought. He’d grown up here, and he employed people here. His shoulders
were beginning to hunch, as if the weight of those looks were crushing him.
    Time to distract him. “By the way,”
Emma said, “I’m not Bill Monroe’s friend. We say hi to each other—that’s all.”
    The smile that crossed Jake’s face
made him look years younger and far more mischievous. The worried