Looking up from her notes, Torie managed to smile. “I know, but I guess I want to see who’s calling and who has some decorum about contacting me. If there ever comes a time to talk to the press, I’ll know who to pick.”
Paul looked nonplussed for a moment, then laughed. “Very good. Really.” He grinned at her. “That’s perfect.”
She smiled back. “I thought so.”
She got to a message from her brother and stopped to text him, fill him in on the latest details. Within seconds, she had a ping with a reply.
“No, you goof,” she murmured aloud, texting back. “I don’t want you to fly home again.”
“Your brother?”
Torie nodded. “Yes, he wants to be more of a big brother than a younger one, take care of me. I’m trying to explain that you can’t fight shadows with no names.”
“Good way to put it, as it’s certainly what we’ve got.” He pulled her pages over to his side of the table and began comparing them.
She listened to Pam on the message talking about Dev and how nice he was. Rolling her eyes, she deleted it, and picked up a message from Dev saying that Pam certainly was a hottie and he was glad Torie had introduced him to her.
The next one was from GoodMama. Bracing herself for the worst, Torie began to listen to the message.
“You call me, y’hear, little girl? I ain’t got no mad on, so you call. I know you be thinkin’ I’m mad about the boy, but I ain’t. He had his own warning and didn’t heed it, so’s it’s just as it’s supposed to be anyhow. Now, fergit Devereaux Chance for a minute, and call your GoodMama.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, she clicked the message into saved messages.
“You look like you got a reprieve from the gallows.”
“Kinda. My grandmother, the one from New Orleans?”
“The tiny one, the one that had the—”
“The pet bobcat? Yes, that one.” GoodMama had brought her pet bobcat from New Orleans in a cat carrier. In the interest of keeping the fragile peace brought about when GoodMama and Daddy had talked before he died, Torie and her mother said nothing about the cat. As she remembered, Dev and the other cousins who’d come had given the cat a wide berth.
“Does she still have the cat?”
“I don’t think so. She hasn’t mentioned Stiletto in a while,” Torie said as she noted the number. “I guess I need to call her.”
“Do you want to use the landline?” He pointed to the phone by his desk. “Save some battery or minutes?”
“Oh, sure.”
Torie eased into the large leather chair, spinning it carefully to pick up the phone. When she’d dialed, she turned the chair so its back blocked her view of Paul. Talking to GoodMama was going to be nerve-wracking enough, much less with Paul listening in.
“’Bout time.” GoodMama answered the phone without preamble. “I been waitin’ on ya. Some reason you think to keep me waitin’?”
“I’m sorry, GoodMama, I just got the message.”
“You saw it yesterday.”
“I did, but I got shot at and nearly blown up yesterday, so I wasn’t really up for talking.”
“Hmmmmph. Well. Reckon that’s true. You eatin’?”
“Eating? No, I haven’t eaten yet, but it’s not lunchtime.”
“Breakfast, girl. Most important meal of the day. Didn’t your mama teach you that?”
Torie smiled. “Yes, yes she did.”
“Listening’s a good skill to have, little girl.” GoodMama said it with a flat tone, like a warning. “You need to do a lot of it right now. I’m telling you that you need to look at everyone close to you. That Pam, she’s not the one. Nor Dev. Nor that man sittin’ there with you that thinks you mighty fine. Them you can trust. The others? Don’t you trust no one else, you hear, little girl? Dev, he has to come home. Get him outta harm’s way.”
“I understand,” Torie said. She hated the thought that Dev had been hurt, and she hoped he would go home, and out of the line of fire.
“Do you understand this ain’t your fault?”
“What?” Torie was startled by the comment. “How do you mean?”
“Someone got a powerful mad on, hatin’ mad. But it ain’t you—it’s that man you nearly hitched yourself to. Remember what GoodMama told you?”
“That gold was more powerful than affection.”
“Still the case. But that hate’s spillin’ onto you. You look there, at that man. And watch for falling glass. I keep seeing falling glass. Not just this moment, but soon.”
When she hung up with GoodMama, she hurried to the table to write everything down. Talking with the old woman was mesmerizing—you couldn’t write things down while you were talking to her because she’d ask if you were listening or paying attention. But Torie knew she’d better get it down fast, because so far GoodMama had never been wrong.
