Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments: Rose Gardner Mystery #7 (7 page)

“And whose identity did she allegedly steal?” Mason asked in disbelief.

Ernie looked stymied by the request, so he turned toward the cashier and store manager. The cashier picked up the confiscated card. “Mason Deveraux.”

“And do you have any idea who Mason Deveraux is?” my irritated boyfriend asked.

Some of the manager’s arrogance faded. “Why you, of course. The assistant district attorney.”

“That’s right,” he said. “And given the uncanny efficiency of the Henryetta gossip mill, everyone in town knows I’m living with Rose. Hell, Ed,” he said to the manager, his voice getting tighter. “I’ve been trying to convince you to lift her ban from the store for the past month. I’ve made it no secret that she’s my girlfriend.”

“Yes, but…” the manager stuttered. “She was using a card that wasn’t hers.”

“She was using
my
card!” he boomed. He paused for a second, taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “I am a very busy man. I don’t have time to run down to the damn grocery store for such nonsense. Next time I’d appreciate it if you’d call me rather than interrupt my schedule.” He took my hand. “On second thought, never mind. We won’t be shopping here anymore.”

I looked back at a shocked Miss Mildred as Mason pulled me out of the store. Bennie was watching me with disappointment in his eyes. Did he think I’d actually stolen the card? Somehow that was the worst part of this whole ridiculous situation.

Mason marched out of the store, his hand wrapped around mine, and I trailed behind. He didn’t stop or release my hand until he reached his car.

I hated to ask, but it needed to be said. “What about the groceries?”

“Leave them,” he barked.

I felt flabbergasted. What he’d said inside was right. He was too busy to be dealing with nonsense, and I was usually the cause of all his predicaments. “Mason, I’m so sorry.”

He released a breath, the anger in his eyes softening. “Don’t be sorry. This is my fault.”

“How is it
your
fault?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have given you more cash, but honestly, I never thought you’d have any trouble.”

“I should have just run it through the stupid card reader, but Miss Mildred was harassing me and the boy knocked over the cereal boxes because his mother thought I was a stripper—”

“
What?
” Then he shook his head, looking aggravated again. “Never mind.” He pushed out a breath. “Rose. It’s okay. It’s this stupid town. Everyone in it seems to be ass-backwards.” And if that didn’t cut me to the quick. He was right, and there was only one reason he was mired here.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry now?” He sounded exasperated.

“You’re stuck here because of me.”

He closed his eyes and looked up. When his gaze finally lowered, his face softened. “Sweetheart, I’d follow you to the Arctic tundra if you wanted to live there, but I’d probably still complain about the cold. This is no different. But mostly I hate that so many people in this town treat you so poorly.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“That’s just it, Rose. It’s
not
okay.”

“It’s better than it used to be, I promise.”

He looked like he wanted to argue. Instead he groaned and grabbed his phone out of his pocket. “I have to take this. I left in the middle of something important and I need to get back.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Stop saying you’re sorry. I’ll be home as soon as I can, but I suspect I’ll be late.” He glanced at his car and saw Muffy inside. “Do you mind if I drive your truck so I can get back to work sooner?”

“Sure. Of course.”

He gave me a quick kiss and answered his phone as he rushed over to the truck.

I was about to climb into the car when I noticed a folded piece of paper under the windshield wiper. After tugging it out and opening it, I read the tight cursive script:

Stay out of things that don’t concern you.

I read it again in confusion. Not only did I not know who wrote it, I didn’t even know what it was talking about. I hadn’t been mixed up in anyone else’s business since Neely Kate and I had gone looking for her cousin a month ago.

Then it hit me. The note was meant for Mason.

I looked over my shoulder, but Mason was already pulling out of the parking lot. I wasn’t sure what to do. He needed to get back to work. I considered calling Joe, but then I decided to just go home and tell Mason later, and let him decide what to do.

Muffy had seen me and was barking like mad. I opened the door and rubbed her head. “Did you see who put that note on Mason’s car?”

She answered by jumping up on her back legs and licking my nose.

“So you don’t want to tell me. Be that way.”

Of course, I couldn’t discount the possibility the note was for me. The handwriting looked like a woman’s, and for all I knew, Miss Mildred might have put it on the windshield on her way into the store, as unlikely as it seemed. Whenever she’d had something to say to me before, she’d had no compunction about flat out telling me to my face. But as Mason had pointed out only moments before, there were plenty of people in town who didn’t like me. My own momma—or the woman I’d thought to be my mother—had made no secret of her contempt for me as well as her belief that my “gift” was proof I was possessed by a demon. She’d been only too happy to spread the rumors of my strangeness. And there were plenty of other reasons someone might think I was sticking my nose in their business. We’d just reopened the nursery. I was opening the landscaping business with Bruce Wayne. Shoot, for all I knew, the note could be from Ima Jean. She’d made no secret that she was upset that I’d bought the cake for the store’s reopening from Dena’s.

But the most logical conclusion was Mason had ticked off some citizen and she was letting him know. Which meant he really couldn’t let his guard down, despite the fact that Joe and Mason both kept insisting he was safe now.

I stuffed the note into my purse and considered heading to the Peach Orchard grocery store, but rumor had it that the meat department had failed yet another inspection. I could stick to canned goods, but after my recent experience, I wasn’t up for shopping. I was still too upset that I’d once again disturbed Mason at work. I knew he didn’t blame me, but it was ultimately my fault. If only I’d been carrying more cash. If only I hadn’t let Mildred distract me…

If only I could stay out of trouble. Try though I might, trouble seemed to have a knack for following me.

I gave up the shopping idea and drove home, figuring I’d scrounge a meal together from the ingredients we already had. I was lost in thought when a dark sedan approached quickly from behind me, riding close to my bumper. A car whizzed by, going the opposite way on the two-lane road, and as soon as it was a short distance away, the sedan behind me swung around to pass. It didn’t alarm me much—there were plenty of reckless drivers in Henryetta—but as soon as it was next to me, it swerved toward me.

I whipped the wheel to get out of the way, turning sharply toward the shoulder of the road. Gravel flew up all around Mason’s car as I tried to slow down, and then my tire got stuck in a rut, jerking the car further off the road and toward several trees. I swerved just in time to miss the trees, but the car slid through the mud in the grass before coming to a stop.

The brake lights of the car that had passed me glowed about fifty feet ahead, pausing for a moment, but then the car sped off.

The numb sense of shock started to wear off and my heart leaped into my throat as I looked around the car for Muffy. I found her huddled and shaking on the floorboards on the passenger side. “Muffy!”

She jumped up on the seat and launched herself into my arms.

“Are you okay?” I asked, looking her over as I felt her legs and body. Satisfied she wasn’t hurt when she didn’t whimper, I checked out the state of Mason’s car. I hadn’t hit anything, only skidded off the road. But when I tried to drive, the tires spun uselessly in the mud.

Great.

Calling Mason was out. He’d drop everything to come help me, but I knew he was busy and I’d already bothered him. I was about to call Bruce Wayne when I noticed a sheriff’s car pulling up on the shoulder behind me. I wasn’t sure whether or not to hope it was Joe.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to decide because it was Deputy Miller, who’d helped me out of more than one jam. I opened the door, stepped out of the car, and promptly sank into the mud.

“Rose,” he said, moving toward me and reaching out his hand. “I thought I recognized Mr. Deveraux’s car. Is he with you?”

“No. We traded cars.”

Muffy saw the deputy and broke out into excited barking. I turned back and scooped her up in my arms, grabbed my purse, then schlepped toward Deputy Miller.

“What happened?” he asked as he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the mud.

“Some car was passing me when it swerved toward me and ran me off the road.”

He looked back at my skid marks, both on the pavement and off. “You’re lucky you missed the trees,” he said with a furrowed brow. “You and Muffy could have been seriously hurt. Can you give me a description of the car?”

I took a deep breath, and was surprised to realize I was shaking. “It was a black car—new and shiny. It had dark windows, so I didn’t see who was inside. And I didn’t catch the license plate either.”

“I’m gonna call it in and have the deputies keep an eye out for it.”

A new thought hit me. “I don’t think this was an accident.”

His eyes widened. “You think they purposely tried to run you off the road?”

I shook my head. “No. I think they tried to run
Mason
off the road. I’m driving his car and I just found this note on his windshield when I was parked in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot.” I reached into my purse and pulled out the paper.

He quickly glanced it over and became more alert, glancing around as though looking for lurking danger. “I need to call this in.”

He walked back to his car, but I stayed close to Mason’s car. I was never going to drive it out of this quagmire. It would have to be towed, and I didn’t have the money to pay for that nonsense. But Bruce Wayne had bought a front-end loader and a couple of other pieces of large equipment for our landscaping jobs. I would have bet ten cents to the dollar he could pull me out.

I pulled out my cell phone and called him, then breathed a sigh of relief when he promised to get the equipment at my farm and return to pull me out.

Deputy Miller got out of his car and walked back toward me. “I called it in, but I’ll have to file a report and take your statement.” He paused. “I called Chief Deputy Simmons to let him know.”

I groaned. Joe was going to read me the riot act and this wasn’t even my fault. “Is he on his way?”

“No, he wanted to come, but he’s tied up with something else right now.”

Relief washed over me. After the day I’d had, I wasn’t up to dealing with Joe.

He glanced over at the car. “Do you want me call a tow truck or take you and Muffy home? We can fill out the report there.”

“Nah. Bruce Wayne is gonna come get me in our tractor.”

“Then why don’t we go sit in my car and I’ll start filling out the paperwork.”

“But my feet are all muddy,” I said, gesturing to my legs. It looked like I’d gone swimming in a swamp. He waved me off and insisted I get in the car anyway. I sat in the passenger seat and set Muffy on my lap. “So what have you been up to, Deputy Miller?”

“Oh, keepin’ busy.” He pulled out a clipboard with papers and began to write. “Chief Deputy Simmons has been givin’ me more responsibility.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” I chuckled. “You know, it’s funny, I could have sworn I saw you out at the farm last week.”

His hand tightened around his pen. “What makes you say that?”

“I couldn’t sleep one night, so I went to the kitchen to make some hot tea and I thought I saw you out by the barn.”

“Are you accusing me of trespassin’?” he asked, sounding offended.

“No. Of course not. I know you weren’t really there. I must have been half asleep.”

The scratch of his pen was the only sound for about thirty seconds. Then he looked up at me, worry in his eyes. “Have you seen any other people lurking around on the farm?”

“
Other
people?”

He swallowed. “You know what I meant.” He turned to me. “Have you seen anyone lurking around?”

The way he posed the question scared me. “No.”

“If you do, will you tell me?”

“Do you
think
someone’s lurkin’ around on my farm?”

“No. Remember when I told you that most police work is boring? Consider this my pathetic attempt to try to liven it up.”

He wasn’t telling me the truth, but I wasn’t sure calling him a liar was going to help matters. “If I see someone lurkin’ at my farm, I’ll call you straight away.” Especially given the mounting evidence that someone was still intent on hurting Mason.

“Good.”

He finished filling out the paperwork and Bruce Wayne pulled up with the tractor a few minutes later. Deputy Miller helped Bruce Wayne pull Mason’s car out of the muck and onto the shoulder, and soon Muffy and I were back in the front seat of the car where we’d started. I said goodbye to Deputy Miller and arranged to meet Bruce Wayne back at the farm.

Thankfully I’d gone off the road only a few miles from the farm, but I still beat Bruce Wayne by a good five minutes. I met him out at the barn and helped him get the tractor put away. He was quieter than usual and it worried me. We shut the barn doors and started down the small incline to the house. “Why don’t you come inside for a few minutes? Maeve sent home half a carrot cake yesterday, and Mason and I can’t possibly eat it all ourselves.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Put me out? You just went out of your way to help pull Mason’s car out of the mud. It’s the least I can do.”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “Well, when you put it that way.”

“Good. It’s settled.”

We walked in silence for a few seconds, Muffy romping around like a crazy dog, before Bruce Wayne asked, “What were you doin’ driving Mason’s car?”