Read 4 Arch Enemy of Murder Online
Authors: Vanessa Gray Bartal
4 Arch Enemy of Murder (29 page)
“I need to know what’s between you and Cindy.”
“Cindy was my first girlfriend, my only serious relationship. She’s beautiful and kind.”
“Tell me the but is coming soon, Jason.”
“But
zzzzz.
” He dropped his head to her shoulder and made a snoring sound. Lacy giggled with far too much relief and delight. “I’m serious, Red,” he said, opening his eyes. “I feel horrible for saying this because she’s so nice, but she bores me to tears. Maybe the friendship she and I have would have been enough before you came back to town, but it’s not enough now. You’ve turned my careful world upside down. Most of the time you drive me crazy, but I love what you and I have going, and I’m not willing to trade it for any amount of normalcy. Do you know what we did last weekend? I spent three hours at her house hanging curtains.”
Lacy poked him hard in the ribs. “You hung curtains for her?”
“Baby, I will hang your curtains anytime. Say the word.”
“That sounds promising and vaguely naughty,” Lacy said. “I have one more question.”
“Does it involve curtains? Because I don’t think I can hang them until my arm heals.”
“No, it’s something else. What does the phrase ‘elephants and ponies’ mean?”
“Where did you hear that?” he asked.
“Your mom said it.” It was half true, at least.
“When Josh and I were little, we reached that age where we didn’t want to tell our mom we loved her in public. So we came up with this code. ‘Elephants and ponies’ means I love you so much.”
“That’s really beautiful,” Lacy said. She gave him a lopsided, misty smile. He returned her smile and brushed her cheek with his thumb.
“Can you come over tonight? I think I need a nurse, someone to be at my beck and call for a few hours.”
“I need to run inside and grab some stuff. I also need to call Tosh. He said something about going to Bingo with him tonight, but I don’t think he’ll mind if I back out.” He had been strangely MIA the last few days, despite Lacy’s best efforts to reach him.
“I wonder how long it will take to get over my knee-jerk reaction to the guy. And by that I mean that I want to jerk my knee into his face.”
Lacy pressed her hand over his mouth. “Stop. You’re going to like him once you get to know him.”
“If you say so.”
“I promise. He’s like the male me.”
“Yes, but what makes us work is that you’re the
female
you.”
Lacy’s laughter died as they walked into the living room because Tosh was there, and he wasn’t alone. In fact he was very much attached to Riley, as in his lips to hers. Lacy must have made a loud sound because from the looks of them, they weren’t going to break apart for anything less than a bellow.
“Oh,” Riley said. Her cheeks turned a practiced and charming shade of pink. Tosh looked anywhere but at Lacy. Lacy couldn’t catch his attention to read what was in his eyes, and she had no words. She stared at them, speechless.
“So, uh, this is new,” Jason said to try and fill the awkward silence. “Are you guys together now or what?”
“Oh, we’re more than that,” Riley said. She jutted her hand in their faces. “We’re married!”
Jason turned to Lacy. “You’re right; I do like him better already.”
Lacy didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she pushed past him and fled out the door.
*Keep reading for a sneak peek from the next book in the series,
Class Reunion of Murder
Lacy Steele was a stalker. There was no other way to describe her over-the-top interest in Chester Campbell.
Every year of high school, her crush had grown stronger until at last it was unbearable. Today was worse than ever because she couldn’t stop staring at him. The way he worked that tuba was something. Usually Lacy was in front of him in the clarinet section, but because of a morning trip to the orthodontist to have her braces tightened, she was out of marching band practice for the afternoon. She could have gone home; she should have. But she couldn’t tear herself away from the mesmerizing sight of Chester and his tuba.
Such
grace
.
Such
power
.
That was Lacy’s last coherent thought before she did a face plant in the dirt behind the bleachers where she had been hiding to watch Chester.
“Geez, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Strong hands wrapped around her biceps and pulled her to a standing position, and Lacy came face to face with Jason Cantor.
She frowned as she brushed herself off and shook free of his grasp. Girls were always falling all over themselves for Jason Cantor; Lacy didn’t want him to think she had been trying to get his attention when in reality she had been spying on Chester. “I’m fine,” she said. The words emerged with a slight spray of spittle. She
always
spit and lisped the day she had her braces tightened.
“I didn’t see you there,” he said. “It’s like you were hiding.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Lacy lied. She soothed her conscience by telling herself that she hadn’t been hiding from him. That was probably what he meant anyway. He was freakishly good looking, one of those jocks who never went through an awkward developmental phase. Not like her and Chester. They were still in that awkward phase—just one of many things they had in common. Jason, on the other hand, had the well-developed body of a full-grown man. In comparison, Chester was scrawny. But he must be stronger than he looked because tubas were heavy. And he had inner strength, something she was sure Jason knew nothing about. How could he have a strong moral character when the worst problem of his life was deciding which of his fan club to take out on a Friday night?
“What’s wrong with your lips?” Jason asked.
“I had my braces tightened. It makes me talk funny.”
“Does it also make your lips swell?”
She reached up to touch her now puffy lips. She must have landed on them when she hit the ground, but they already hurt so much she couldn’t tell. “Aw, man,” she muttered.
“I’m
so
sorry,” Jason said. “Can I get you some ice?”
Why was he still there and talking to her? Was he somehow making fun of her? He couldn’t truly be nice enough to care about her lips, could he? “Shouldn’t you be on the field?”
“Well, yeah, but I can’t just run you over and leave you,” he said.
“You can,” Lacy insisted. “I’m weawwy okay.”
“You just said ‘weawwy,’” he pointed out. “You’re not okay.”
“I am. I wike to tawk babytawk. It’s my thing.” She swallowed something that tasted a whole lot like blood. Her swollen, grotesque mouth must also be bleeding. Great.
He chuckled and used his index finger to scratch his temple. “I’m, uh, not sure what to do with you.”
“Weave me. You’re fwee.”
“I could send one of the trainers with some ice.”
Lacy shook her head. She was afraid to speak again, afraid of how it might sound now that her lips were swelling to four times their normal size.
“Okay, but I’m going to keep an eye on you.”
She nodded and tried to force a smile but her lips wouldn’t respond.
He shrugged as if to say he had tried his best. He began to trot toward the football field. “See you, Macy,” he called. “Sorry again.”
She waved as she watched him go. “It’s Wacy, dummy,” she muttered. “Wacy,” she tried again. “Wacy, Wacy, Wacy, aw, man.” She had wasted precious Chester-watching time on her inane conversation with Jason Cantor. Abruptly, she turned toward the field, ran into a light pole, and knocked herself unconscious.
