A group of customers swarms Macy’s table and her attention is quickly diverted, as is mine.
Last night while doing my research on Channing Neville, I spotted a picture of him holding a German shepherd in his arms. Channing had a warm smile, his sandy hair was full of golden highlights, and his face sun-kissed.
The puppy was adorable, but neither of those things held my attention once I spotted that familiar ring on his finger. It turns out, Channing was indeed a member of that secret, and perhaps deadly, society known as the Order of the Skulls.
If Wyatt and Thomas had a long-standing secret, and if the tension that was building between the two of them had to do with their past as Skulls men, all arrows just might point to Channing.
When Channing disappeared, it was a very big deal at the time. School officials and police suspected foul play. Channing’s car was left sitting in front of the frat house from which he disappeared. His bank account went untouched. His family believes he was killed and the body hidden. Years later, they announced they had abandoned all hope of finding him alive. They were tightknit, a mother and father, a younger sister. It was heartbreaking to read. Stormy said it was almost as if Wyatt had something on Thomas, as if he were controlling him with it, and now I’m wondering if this was it.
A crowd migrates to the table and I let them have at the lemon tarts just as a couple of familiar mischievous-looking older women migrate this way.
Georgie holds a hand to her mouth as she leans toward the crowd.
“The Country Cottage Inn has the best desserts in town,” she shouts and a few of the people snatching up a second helping of lemon tarts begin to nod in agreement.
Never underestimate the power of word of mouth.
Juni belts out a loud whoop. “They don’t call it the Killer Inn for nothing.”
A moan works its way up my throat because about a dozen people just turned her way and half the crowd is whispering that the murderous rumors must be true. And then in typical self-preserving fashion, every last one of those people up and disappear.
So much for word of mouth.
Juni inches back stunned. “Did my deodorant fail me?”
Georgie snatches up a lemon tart. “No, your mouth did. Come on”—Georgie pulls her daughter along—“let’s check out the discounted books and the hot man shucking them.” And they head off toward Thomas and Brooklynn.
I’m about to join them just as Hux steps up, looking dapper in a dress shirt and dark pants, and I’m about to ask if he just got off work when Mackenzie crops up right next to him and my eyes trace down to their conjoined hands.
Mackenzie snarls my way. Just the look on her face is worth the price of admission. I suppose she thinks this is the worst-case scenario. Little does she know, I’ve had a mean crush on Huxley ever since we were kids. My dream come true is Bizzy Baker’s nightmare. Now there’s something I can live with. But I’m guessing her ego is too fractured to say a kind word.
“Hux”—I force a tight smile—“Mayor Woods.” I nod her way. “The turnout for the event is better than I imagined. Congratulations on a job well done.” Shove that in your ego and smoke it.
Hux sheds a wide smile of his own. “It’s fantastic. Let’s hope the momentum keeps up until fall.”
Macy hobbles over as if she were wounded. “Fall? Trying to be polite is killing me, and it’s only been one hour. This summer night catastrophe might just be the end of your poor sister.”
“Have another lemon tart.” I slide an entire box her way and she takes it.
Macy nods to Hux. “So what’s this?” She hitches her head toward Mackenzie. “Are you auditioning for the part of Ms. Mayor?”
“Funny.” Hux loses the smile on his face. “Mack and I are having a good time. Get used to it. We plan on enjoying ourselves more often.”
Mackenzie smirks at both my sister and me. “Don’t worry, girls. I don’t bite, unless I’m directly ordered to do so. If you’ll all excuse me, I need to make an appearance at the rest of the booths.” She slinks away in her hip-hugging catsuit and large rhinestone hoop earrings that look a lot less mayoral and more lady of the night. But Makenzie is a beautiful woman. I can see the physical appeal as far as Hux is concerned. The emotional? Not so much.
Macy grunts, “Now this is one fling I didn’t see coming. I give it until the Fourth of July.”
Hux makes a face. “That’s less than two weeks away.”
Macy wrinkles her nose. “You’re right. I give it one week, but if you have an exit strategy to get out sooner, Godspeed.” She takes off to tend to her table and I step around to give Hux a quick hug.
“Don’t listen to her.” I’m about to eat crow and it doesn’t feel good. “If Mackenzie makes you happy, we’ll learn to stuff our feelings and channel them into biting sarcasm spouted off at will.”
His chest thumps with a laugh. “I knew I could count on you to make me feel bitter.”
“Ha-ha,” I say as I tick my head toward Killer Books. “See that woman with the ponytail and the green vest? That’s Brooklynn Knight. The woman I had you look into.”
His brows hike as he gives an approving nod.
“And I’ve got another scoop on her for you.” His steely eyes meet with mine. “That’s exactly why I swung by.”
“You mean you didn’t show up because your hormones were having a Mack attack?” I tease.
“All right.” He winces. “So I had a dual purpose.” He pulls me to the side, out of range of the crowd clamoring for lemon tarts. “I’ve got info on Brooklynn Knight. For the record, she is pretty hot.” He gives a sly wink.
“Nice to know Mackenzie hasn’t changed your womanizing spots.
