The Ugly Truth (20 page)

Determined to catch him, I sprinted off in the direction he’d gone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Butch’s evil smirk. I should have known. Later, dude, I promised. I’d get that ass-wipe. It was just a matter of time.

Anger and determination fueled my adrenaline, and I tore through the crowd and across the courthouse lawn. I knew Brandon wasn’t happy I’d left him in Alabama, but why run away? Was I that vile?

The toe of my sandal caught a crack in the sidewalk, and suddenly I was facedown. I glanced up to see my baby brother rounding a corner. Groaning, I looked down at my equipment. The only camera I had out of the bag was my Nikon digital, and it seemed there were enough bags and things around my neck to cushion against the concrete, because there wasn’t a scratch on it.

“Are you all right, dear?”

I looked up into the concerned eyes of Aunt Octavia. She was dressed in a bright red pantsuit and a hat to match. All I could think was it was good to see a friendly face. “The cameras and I are fine.”

“Your leg is bleeding.”

Huh?
I looked down and sure enough, I had scraped my knee, the same one as when the Rabbit tried to take me out. Peachy. “It’s just a scratch, no biggie.”

“It’ll get infected if it’s not cared for.”

I couldn’t resist. “Psychic vision?”

Her smile was just a touch wily. “Common sense, actually.”

I pulled myself to my feet. At least I was wearing shorts so I hadn’t literally shown my butt. “I’ll be fine, honest.”

“Come with me.” She grabbed my arm, and all but dragged me up the street. I thought about trying to resist, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Not to mention, the woman had quite a grip for someone her age.

We went into Ugly Drugs—which, of course, begs the ridiculous question: what exactly are the standards of beauty for pills and such—and she hauled me toward the back. A chubby little man in a white coat rushed out from behind the pharmacy counter when he saw us. “My, that’s a nasty scrape you have there, young lady.”

“It’s not really that bad,” I protested. All this attention was embarrassing.

“You don’t want it to get infected,” he said.

“Get me supplies and I’ll fix it up for her,” Aunt Octavia said.

I was shoved into one of the fake-wood-framed green-plastic-upholstered seats where folks waited for their prescriptions. The pharmacist, Carl Mallory, his nametag said, handed Aunt Octavia items as she worked. They’d obviously done this before, their movements precise and clinical, rather like a very odd surgery scene.

When I was bandaged and both my caregivers were satisfied, I smiled toward Mr. Mallory. “How much do I owe you for the supplies?”

“You don’t owe me anything. We take care of our own around here,” he said.

There it was again. “But I’m not from here. I live in D.C. I’m going back there in just a few days.”

“You belong here with us,” Octavia said. “Isn’t that right, Carl?”

“Absolutely.” He gave me a big smile, then turned and headed back to his spot behind the high pharmacy counter to see to an incoming customer.

“If you’re all fixed up, then I need to get going. I don’t wanna miss the festivities.”

I glanced at my watch. “The parade doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“I didn’t say anything about a parade, now did I?” She gave me a wink, and I walked with her out the door and back into the crush of human craziness.

We walked together back toward the parade prep area. We were about halfway there when Aunt Octavia stopped. “This is where I get off, there’s gonna be a catfight over on Magnolia Avenue in a few minutes, and I’m pulling for Margie Lane. That Betsy Smythe woman is a real bitch.”

She started to turn, then froze for a moment in a way I knew all too well. She turned back to me, and I braced myself for the coming pronouncement.

“You and those you love are headed for betrayal, fear, and peril. It is your choice that will determine the outcome. Remember to follow your heart.”

I stared for a moment and then forced a half-hearted smile. “Got any specifics?”

She held her hands out in surrender. “I can only pass on what the spirits tell me.”

“Thanks for your help, Ms….um…”

“Call me Aunt Octavia, hon. Everybody does.”

“Well, thank you, Aunt Octavia.” Before I realized what was happening I was hugging the tiny woman with a huge heart.

I stepped back, and she pushed an unruly curl back from my face. “You’ll be fine, dear. You only need to have faith in yourself. Now I have to go, the fight’s about to start.”

She headed out, and I went in the direction of the preparation area. I wasn’t at all surprised when I heard somebody yell, “Fight.” That woman was unfathomable.

“Want to share?”

Jake’s voice had tingly warmth rushing through my body. “Share?”

“Whatever has you smiling like that.”

“Aunt Octavia. She’s something else.”

“She’s something all right.”

There were darker feelings than pleasure in Jake’s eyes. Crap, I forgot about the Aunt Octavia channeling his mother thing.

“What happened to your knee?”

Grateful for the distraction, I filled him in. “I saw Brandon, but the little brat ran from me. I went after him and wound up taking a header to the sidewalk.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Aunt Octavia and the pharmacist dude fixed me up. I was worried about my cameras, but they seem to be fine.”

A big, warm hand brushed my face and ended up behind my neck. “The hell with the cameras, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I looked up into dark eyes that seemed to flash caring. Oh, boy. Lust I could deal with, but protectiveness? Not so much into that. Still, it sort of felt good to have this big lug look at me like that. Hey, he was getting closer and closer and…his lips touched mine. Oh my, the big lug could kiss!

I felt the change in his body seconds before he backed away. My eyes opened and I saw the tension in his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils, the way his gaze was locked hard on a point somewhere behind me. I knew before I turned I would see Madison. I was ashamed she’d seen me, but her attention seemed to be solely on Jake. It was as if I wasn’t even there. I’d disappeared, rendered invisible by the strength of the emotion passing between them. Well, this did not bode well.

“I have pictures to take,” I said, and headed out of the line of fire.

I did my photojournalist thing until the parade was about to begin, then I rushed down Main to find a good spot to watch the festivities.

I had pretty much despaired of getting to see anything, since I’m five-two and everybody else was in front of me. Then I heard my name being called.

Steve waved, then motioned for me. We headed to Henry’s store, and I followed him upstairs. Like Jake’s building, Henry’s was two stories. Unlike Jake’s, Henry used his upstairs for storage. The big, currently open, window provided a great view of the parade. Margaret was there with Henry’s employee. Ronny smiled warmly at me, and I couldn’t help but like the young man. Polite, cheerful, exuding energy and charm, I could see why Henry had hired him.

We said our hellos then turned to the parade starting below us. The harsh bellow of sirens announced the police and fire vehicles leading the way. Using the cacophony as a fanfare, the town dignitaries followed in open convertibles. After that came floats pulled behind pickup trucks, the Ugly Creek High School Band, and the former Miss Ugly Creek winners. Maddie and Liza rode together in a decorated convertible, crowns on their heads, waving happily to the adoring crowd. Then came the current Miss Ugly Creek and the two runners-up.

After the beauty queens came the cute kids from the dance school. Tiny bees and fairies danced down the street with older, tuxedo-clad tap dancers, and traditionally dressed ballerinas.

Following behind the dance school cuties was a pickup truck filled with waving children. Some of the kids were bald, some had IV’s, and with them were uniformed medical personnel. On the side of the truck was a banner announcing Willow County Children’s Hospital. Under that, in much smaller letters, were the words, “Sponsored by Thomas Furniture,” and Henry himself was driving the truck.

“The kids love being part of the parade,” Margaret said.

I brushed an errant tear from my cheek.

I was still feeling warmth from that when the Blackwood Antiques float pulled into view. I’d seen it earlier from a distance, but I’d stayed away to prevent exactly what happened when I ran into Jake earlier.

Maddie was going to kill me, and I didn’t blame her in the least.

Forcing that thought away, I looked back toward the float below. Decorated in red, white, and blue, the flat surface was dotted with chairs holding uniformed veterans, retired police officers, and firemen. Several large pictures graced the middle of the structure, the largest labeled, “Virgil Clark.” Overseeing it all was a Statue of Liberty figure.

Instead of the usual pickup, an antique fire truck pulled the float—driven by Jake himself.

Pride filled my heart. Henry and Jake were wonderful men and I was honored to know them both. Margaret was a lucky woman, as was whoever wound up with Jake.

The thought of another woman with Jake tore at me, especially since that woman might well be Maddie. That is, if my harebrained scheme succeeded.

Okay, that was enough of that. I focused my attention back on the parade.

The horses rode through last with a man following behind carrying a huge pooper scooper, apparently insurance in case of an ill-mannered animal.

“I should reopen the store,” Ronny said, and took off down the stairs.

Margaret looked around the group, a crafty expression on her face. “It’s showtime, folks.”

“I’d better get going.” Steve turned and headed out the door.

I felt a touch of nausea. Maybe I ate something I shouldn’t have. There was some dizziness too, maybe I was getting sick. I put my hands to my cheeks to see if they were hot. Was it too late to call everything off?

“You’re doing a good thing, sweetie. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Maybe this really isn’t such a smart idea. What if it doesn’t work?”

Margaret looked deep into my eyes, her expression soft, caring, searching, the kind of expression I would give years of my life to see on my mother. “Do you believe this can work?”

A small, warm surge of belief swirled inside me. “Yes, I do.”

Margaret smiled. “Then let’s do it.”

She headed downstairs, and I was right behind her.

Margaret stayed in Henry’s store to prepare for Victim One. I went in search of Liza, who Steve swore was happy to help, and Maddie, AKA Victim Two.

I met Liza and Maddie walking toward me from the direction of an old abandoned gas station—the designated end-of-parade location. Liza indicated the formal gown she still wore. “We’re using Henry’s store to change.”

Maddie only glared.

Liza gave me a reassuring smile as we walked together down the street. Maddie stayed completely quiet, her glare focused on the sidewalk. I walked next to Liza and prayed my crazy scheme would work. Even if she hated me even more after this, it would be worth it if Maddie and Jake could work out their problems.

If that meant they really were in love, then I’d just have to deal with it. If I could. Thankfully, it was all theory right now. I liked to think of myself as a seriously moral, stand-up kind of gal, but does anybody really know what they’d do in a situation like that?

I hoped I didn’t have to find out.

We reached Henry’s store, and I heard a thump and muttered cussing.

“What was that?” Maddie asked.

“Henry must have dropped something. On his foot,” Liza told her.

Maddie narrowed her eyes. “Henry cusses?”

Liza shrugged. “Only if he’s alone in the storeroom and drops something on his toe?”

Maddie wasn’t buying it.

“Maybe you should give him a few minutes to get himself together,” I said.

“Fine with me.” Maddie dumped the duffel bag she was carrying in a corner and dropped onto a small beige couch. “This is comfy. We need one like this for the apartment.”

She seemed to realize she’d spoken to me, and turned away.

Steve came from the back into the showroom. His shirt had a button missing, and his hair was seriously mussed. As he walked, he adjusted his glasses. “Hi.”

Maddie frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I stuck around after the parade to help Henry with a project.”

For a geek, Steve wasn’t a bad liar. Then again, that statement was almost true.

“We heard Henry back there,” Liza said. “Did he hurt his toe or something?”

His wife, on the other hand was terrible. I could see Maddie’s expression out of the corner of my eye. She was quickly becoming suspicious. Not good. I forced a chuckle. “I was amazed to hear cuss words come out of his mouth.”

Huh-oh. I’m a decent liar, but Maddie and I spend a lot of time together. She knows me too well. The look she gave me said things were unraveling rapidly. Crap.

“Ouch!”

“That’s my mom’s voice.” Maddie leapt to her feet and before any of us could react, she’d taken off toward the back. Liza, Steve, and I headed after her, trying to get through the door at the same time and bouncing off each other like the Three Stooges as we went.

I shoved into the backroom to see Maddie standing in the middle of the floor, eyes huge, mouth open, staring at Jake tied up in a chair. Henry and Margaret stood near him, both of them looking rather worse for the wear.

“Are you all right, Mom?” Maddie asked.

Margaret smiled. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

Maddie turned a glare on Jake. “What did you do to my mother?”

Jake sent a narrow-eyed, fire-starting glare toward her. Through the duct tape over his mouth came muffled four-letter words. Well, now we knew who’d been cussing.

I felt more than saw Liza streak by me and tackle Maddie. She had her on the floor before I realized what was happening. “I could use some help here,” Liza said, raising her cast enough to remind us she was injured. We immediately leapt into action.