Chapter 26
End around – an evasive tactic sometimes used to get a person’s mind off of their obsession
“Let’s go.”
I glance up from my computer to find Aspen standing at the entrance to the walk-in closet.
“Go? Where are we going? What are we doing?”
I know we don’t have any plans for today. It’s the middle of the week. Aspen should be at her bookstore.
“Get a move on. I haven’t got all day,” she says instead of answering my questions.
I return my attention to my computer where I’ve been Googling how to help a man move on after divorce. Yep. I’m a total loser who’s not only going to forgive Rowan for being a complete and utter idiot but also figure out how to convince him to get over Sandra and have a relationship with me.
Aspen marches over and slams my computer shut. “Now. Get up. And put some clothes on.” She hauls me to my feet.
I wrench my arm free of her hold. “I’m dressed,” I protest.
“A pajama top and leggings is not dressed.” Her nose wrinkles as she studies me. “And it wouldn’t hurt to brush your hair and wash your face either.”
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Tell me what we’re doing first.”
She smirks. “We’re going to visit Mercury.”
“Old Man Mercury?”
“Is there another Mercury in this town?”
A visit to Mercury can only mean one thing – time to work on the mystery.
“Why didn’t you say so to start with?” I push past her. “I’ll shower quick as can be and get dressed.” Because I lied. I am in my pajamas.
I rush through the world’s fastest shower. “What’s the plan?” I ask as I throw on a pair of jeans.
“I figure if anyone knows anything about a newspaper from 1955 when the Black Hat Bandit and Patricia were supposed to meet up then he will.”
I put on my boot and stand. “Let’s go.”
Aspen gestures toward my upper half. “Maybe you want to wear a shirt over your bra. Just a suggestion.”
Oops. Guess I’m a bit overexcited about finding the loot. Just imagine all the things I could do with half a million dollars. Buy a house. Build a sound booth. The possibilities are endless!
Since Mercury’s house is on the outer limits of town, we drive a golf cart there. Like most residents of Winter Falls, I’m convinced the house is haunted. I tried holding a séance in his yard once to summon the ghosts – or demons, I’m not fussy – but apparently, there’s more to holding a séance than wrapping your mom’s old skirt around your head and throwing a sheet over a basketball.
In my defense, Mom wouldn’t allow me to have a computer at home until I was in high school. It’s hard to Google ‘how to hold a séance’ on a school computer when your mom’s a teacher there.
“Has Mercury been doing repairs on his place?” I ask as we park in front of his house, and I notice the stairs leading up to the porch appear new and the railing’s been recently painted.
Aspen blushes. “Not Mercury.”
“You built stairs?”
“Don’t be silly. Lyric did the stairs. I painted.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. I have the feeling Mercury’s story is tragic.”