Paul Jameson’s face leaped into her mind. Lean and tan, as it had been in their college days. Everybody’s pal. Everyone except her. He’d been so attractive, so ready to go out or make out with anyone. Just not her. Until after that one night.
Steering away from that thought, she shifted to wondering about her cousin. Ironically, Dev was a similar type. Very masculine, very much the easygoing friendly playboy sort. But he didn’t set her teeth on edge.
Dev.
Oh, Lord.
“Do you need anything more from me? I need to find out about my cousin, go see him if I can.”
“I don’t think so. We’ll keep you up to date on our findings, Ms. Hagen. Please let us know if you think of anything else. However, before you go anywhere, there’s another officer who wants to speak to you about your cousin’s incident.”
Incident? Nope. It was an attack. How could she expect these men to understand the curse? But she hadn’t dated Dev. Why had he been a victim? GoodMama was going to be so upset. Not only had Torie not heeded the warning about the fire—although honestly she hadn’t had any time to do so—but Dev had gotten hurt as well. GoodMama would be frantic, and further upset and outraged that Torie had embroiled her favorite great-grandson in her own personal curse, sending him to the hospital.
Oh, man she was in
She was so caught up in her thoughts as the investigators left that she barely registered when her best friend Pam slipped into the room.
“Girl, you look like a thundercloud.”
“Jeez!” Torie yipped in surprise. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Pam set the bakery box of doughnuts on the table, dropped her fat purse in the chair, and stretched over the bed to give Torie a firm, best-friend hug. “Don’t know why, it’s like Grand Central in here, all the comings and goings. Who were the two stuffed shirts? They looked like insurance salesmen or cops.”
“Ding, ding, ding. Give the lady a prize,” Torie joked as she returned the pressure. Having Pam there to support her brought her to tears. Pam was so strong, such a great friend. With everything that had happened to her over the past five years, and even before when they were in college, Pam had been and still was her anchor to sanity.
Torie wiped her eyes as Pam plopped into the chair. “So, tell me everything,” she demanded, digging a can of Diet Pepsi from her purse. After unwrapping a straw, she took a long drink, and grabbed a doughnut. “Well?”
“They’re the fire inspectors assigned to my case. My house was torched, no accident.”
“You need a lucky clover or rabbit’s foot, girlfriend. No, scratch that, everyone around you, the males at least, need a clover. Better yet, I need to rub your shoulder for luck. You manage to end up okay when everyone around you is getting knocked for a loop.”
“Yeah, well, I got the loop knocked out of me this time,” Torie pointed to her bandaged head. “And Dev. Oh, Pam, Dev’s been hurt.” Torie reached for her hand. “You have to find out how he is. They said he was here in this hospital, on the third floor.”
“Oh, man, really? Dev?” Pam sat forward, drink forgotten. “The sexy-cousin-from-New-Orleans-Dev? Don’t tell me he’s one of the
“I don’t know. I think so, but we never actually
“You didn’t date Jorge either. He fixed your plumbing and your roof, was at your house for a few meals, and viola, he’s left with a broken leg from a hit-and-run.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, item one on the agenda is to see about Devastating Cousin Devereaux.” Pam made a check mark in the air. “Item two, we need to talk about how to deal with the cleanup of you-know-what.”
“They can’t find out about that.”
“Who?”
“The investigators. I told them you and I went out for a drink after work, then I came straight home after getting some groceries.”
“We did have a drink.” Pam shot her a wicked grin. “And a chaser.”
Torie groaned, but smiled. “Yeah, we chased, and got chased, but nobody knows it was us, right? We have to keep it that way.”
“No worries. I have the mangy dog stashed at Carlos’s house.” Pam had a legion of friends, mostly male, who would do anything for her, up to and probably including murder. She attracted men like bees to honey, and even when she didn’t date them, or even acknowledge them, they still hung around, doing her favors at the slightest whiff of a whim.
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, Carlos knows what to do, and how to handle him.”
“Thank goodness for Carlos. Will he keep it quiet?”
“For me? Of course. I promised to bake him my special German chocolate cake.”
When Torie dated a man he ended up in mortal peril; with Pam, they got cake. And probably coffee, too.
“So I’ll go see about Devereaux. By the way, what’s his last name?”
“Chance. Like take-a-chance.”
