Free Murder & Mayhem in Goose Pimple Junction by Amy Metz Page A

the kitchen doorway, his legs crossed and one foot propped on a toe.
    Tess jumped and whirled around at the sound of his voice, spraying Cheerios across the room.
    “ No thanks, I’ve had breakfast,” he laughed. “You a little bit on edge?”
    She let out a heavy sigh and sat the box on the counter with a thud. He bent down to help her pick up the cereal.
    “ Tess, I think it’s safe to say that for whatever reason they keep comin’ back, they’re not gonna hurt you. If they’d wanted to do that, they would have done it last night.”
    “ That’s a pleasant thought.” Tess was on her hands and knees, sweeping the Cheerios with her hands, and scooping them up to throw in the garbage. “But you’re probably right.” She wondered if he noticed her hands shaking.
    He stood, putting his hands on his hips. “Tess, don’t be offended by this question, but . . . do you . . . have any drugs in the house?”
    “ What ? Jack, no, of course I don’t have any drugs in this house. How could you even think such a thing?”
    “ I don’t. I just had to ask it. Drugs, firearms, and high-end loot. That’s usually what people are after when they break into a place. Since your high-end loot is still here, and I don’t peg you for the gun-totin’ type,” his eyes wandered to the Louisville Slugger baseball bat in the corner of the kitchen, “drugs are all that’s left.”
    Tess sat down at the table and put her head in her hands. “I think back to a little over a year ago, when I had a quiet, ordinary, mundane life. Then my world exploded. I thought moving here would let me get back on an even keel. Now I’m having to learn a new language, I have wallpaper stuck to the walls, and I have a stalker. So much for my good luck charm!”
    “ Hold it! Hold it just one minute! Number one, I think you’re slightly exaggeratin’ on the foreign language thing. Number two, I’d be happy to help you strip . . . the wallpaper.” She shot him a look. “Number three, I’m sure you don’t have a stalker, unless you want to count me. And number four, what good luck charm?”
    For the next few minutes Tess filled Jack in on what she had found and told him about her talk with Lou.
    “ So it’s not a good luck charm.” Jack shrugged. “It’s just an interesting antiquity. Put it on your key ring and forget about it.”
    “ And what about the repeated break-ins?” Tess asked. “This is really freaking me out.”
    “ Well . . . I could stay over . . . “ Jack quickly changed course when she gave him yet another pointed look.
    “ In that case, are you workin' today?”
    “ Not until two o'clock, why?”
    “ What say you and I take your mind off everything by goin’ to lunch at Slick and Junebug’s?”
    “ Well . . . “ Tess hemmed, “I should get some things done around here before I go into work.”
    “ Come on, it’s only a quick bite to eat. We’ll be in public. And if you insist, I’ll even refrain from biting.”
    The way he was looking at her made her nervous. I could so easily fall into his arms, where I’d feel safe again. He was sitting so close, she could smell his aftershave lotion, feel his body heat, and when she looked at him all she could think about was running her hands through his hair and kissing him silly . NO, I have to stand on my own two feet. I have to get a grip . And not a grip on Jack!
    “ Hell, no!”
    “ Pardon?” Jack asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
    Did I say that out loud? Crap.
    “ I said, ‘HEL-lo.’ You know, like, HEL-lo, no biting.” Liar liar, pants on fire…
    “ Well, then, I'll be back to pick you up in an hour. How’s that?”
    “ That'll give me time to get those footprints off of my pretty hardwood floors,” Tess said, taking her mop out of the closet and trying to feel brave.
     
    * * *
     
    The minute Jack opened the door to the diner, Tess smelled the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread. Tess stiffened slightly at Jack’s hand on her back