The next day, I’m a ball of nerves and anxiety. I know they’re going to show up asking for the intel at any moment.

Part of me wants them to, if only to catch the conversation on the recorder and cement my insurance policy.

But I still don’t know if I’m going to give it to them. What will they do if I don’t? If I refuse? Would they believe me if I told them I couldn’t get it?

Of course, I did get it, or at least a little of it. The smaller bank account I found in Jared’s name. Even acknowledging its existence inside my brain makes my head pound.

I could hack into it, transfer the money, and use it to run.

I could get Paige out of here. Jared wouldn’t miss the money. Hell, he already offered it to her for college. And I seriously doubt she’ll be going to college if I don’t get her away from the parents. So it would be just like . . . borrowing against her college fund.

When I close up the shop for a few minutes during lunch, I go so far as to log into his account on the computer upstairs.

I stare at the account, mouse hovering over the balance.

After five minutes of trying to force myself to click, I log out and close the browser.

I can’t do it.

I tell myself it’s because if we run now, the parents will just find us again. They’ll be on our tail forever. Better to face them now and find a way to keep Paige safe from them for good.

That’s definitely a part of it, but another big part is Jared. And this town. I can’t do it to him. I can’t leave my parents here to finish whatever scam they’re running on the people here.

It’s not right.

I will do whatever it takes to stop them. I have to.

Decision made, I head back downstairs to open the shop again. Every time the bell over the shop door rings, my stomach drops into my toes, anticipating their arrival. By the time I’m ready to close up the shop, they still haven’t showed. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or freaked out even more.

The phone rings and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Ruby’s Readings and Cosmic Shop,” I answer, slightly breathless.

The voice on the other end is bossy and irritated. “We’re going to Ben’s.” It’s Tabby.

My anxiety settles down to a low simmer. She keeps talking before I can respond.

“And when I say ‘we,’ I mean me and you. And Eleanor. She has to work late, but she’s meeting us there later.”

“What’s going on at Ben’s?”

“Oh you know. People, music, the Newsomes fighting, maybe some pool playing and general shenanigans.”

“Okay.” Jared’s on duty tonight anyway so I’ll only see him if he gets called to the bar for work purposes.

I wonder if I could rile up the Newsomes myself, if only to see Jared for a brief moment.

When he’s there, it’s like everything else ceases to exist.

And maybe if I’m not home tonight, I can avoid the parents for another day.

“What time are we going?”

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

Ben’s is surprisingly busy for a Monday night. Then again, most of the population is retired, so it’s not like they have work in the morning.

Even more surprising, Ben doesn’t yell at Tabby when she goes around the bar to get us some drinks. He just kisses her on the cheek and lets her do whatever she wants.

“What’s up with that?” I ask when she brings our drinks back to our table, a pitcher of beer and three cups. One is for Eleanor, who hasn’t yet arrived.

“What’s up with what?”

“Ben didn’t yell at you.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s still groveling. He’s so my bitch right now. You need anything done around your house?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Seriously, I can hook you up. You need your lawn mowed, heavy things lifted, or a toilet unclogged, I got a guy for at least another month.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s taking the time to suck it up.”

She smiles. “Me, too. After your birthday party, we went up to the point and made out like teenagers.”

I laugh.

“Until the Newsomes showed up.” She frowns. “They always ruin everything. Sheila was moaning and screaming so loud, she sounded like Mr. Newsome was trying to kill her. It was so not sexy.”

I grimace. “I’ve seen and heard all of that before. I don’t need a reminder.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Eleanor slides into the booth next to Tabby. “We have an event coming up at the library, a fundraiser, so we’re making a bunch of plans. It ran longer than I expected.”

My ears perk up at the word fundraiser. Is that why mother asked Miss Viola about the library?

“What kind of fundraiser?” I ask as Tabby pours Eleanor a drink from the pitcher and slides it over.

“Oh, just a new thing we’re doing for literacy in third-world countries. With your aunt and uncle, actually.” She brightens. “We started talking at your birthday party and they’re going to help us with the event.”

And my night takes a nosedive.

“Did I miss anything interesting?” Eleanor changes the subject. I’m both grateful and annoyed. What else are they planning?

“Nope,” says Tabby. “I was just telling Ruby how I ran into the Newsomes out at the make-out spot.”

“Ugh.” Eleanor takes a small sip of her beer. “I found them one time at the library. Back in the rare fiction section.”

Tabby gasps. “No!”

“Yes. People hardly ever go back there, it’s true, but still. They were not reading and they were not using library voices.”

Tabby snorts. “What did you do?”

“What could I do? I ran away. When they checked out their books, I could hardly look at them. Especially when I saw what they were reading.”

“You have to tell us what it was.”

“There was one about tantric sex, a couple on the Kama Sutra.”

I force myself to laugh along with Tabby, though I must not be doing a good job of it because Tabby gives me a look. I’m too trapped in my own head, thinking about the parents.

“How clichéd,” I add weakly.

“But the other was a book on how to teach physics to your dog.”

“Do they even have a dog?” Tabby wrinkles her nose in confusion.

I was in Mrs. Newsome’s house after they had a break-in. I don’t recall dogs, dog hair, or any other indication there were any kind of pets around. Only Mr. Newsome, and maybe some sex toys. “I don’t think so. But they’ve found a way to keep their passion alive. I think it’s kind of sweet.

Tabby snorts out a laugh. “You’re drunk.”

“I’ve only had a few sips.”

“You’re hallucinating. Maybe psychotic. There’s nothing cute or sweet about the Newsomes.”

“It’s sweet how into each other they still are, after so many years.”

“They’re divorced.”

“Yeah, but it works for them. We should be so lucky to be as into our significant others as they are when we’re their age.”

“That might be true. Do you think you’ll still want to jump Jared’s bones when you’re sixty?”

I shrug, uncomfortable with the question. I’m not going to know Jared when I’m sixty, so this conversation is moot.

“I think Troy and I—”

Tabby points at her. “Not you, blondie. I don’t want to hear shit about you and my brother. You are cut off from this conversation.”

“Oh, come on, Tabby. Eleanor can talk about Troy. Maybe just keep any talk of Newsome-like activity to a minimum.”

“Minimum? Try not any.” Tabby shudders.

Eleanor just laughs. “Well, he is taking me to the fundraiser. We decided to have a gala.”

“A gala?” Tabby asks. “Sounds fancy.”

“It will be pretty fun. David and Leah are talking about having a silent auction for businesses to donate services and goods, plus dancing and a charity dinner.”

“What an awesome idea. They are so cool,” Tabby says.

“Yeah.” I nod. “They’re so great.”

Tabby refills my beer glass. I didn’t even realize I’d drunk the whole thing.

They continue to talk, the conversation fluttering around me, Tabby and Eleanor discussing the charity, the gala, what they’re going to wear, and how Tabby can help with the event. Then they move on to Troy and Tabby’s birthday party—some kind of bonfire on the beach. A tradition they’ve kept up every year since they were teenagers. It’s on a Tuesday this year, which is weird, but they never break the tradition—always on their birthday no matter which day of the week it falls.

My stomach settles down when the conversation turns to other things and there’s no more mention of the parents or anything to do with them.

But then Eleanor is waving and smiling at someone across the room.

The parents. And they’re heading this way.

“I told them I was going to Ben’s; they must have come to check it out,” Eleanor tells us. Then she’s sliding out of the booth to stand and greet them. “Hey, it’s nice to see you again so soon.”

I focus on the glass in my hands.

I can’t look. My face is frozen in a smile. They’re going to ask if I got the information. I thought maybe I had avoided them for the day, but of course, they tracked me down.

Tabby shifts next to me, and then she’s standing and hugging them. “It’s so nice to see you,” she says.

I have to act normal. I have to act like they’re my beloved aunt and uncle.

I can do this. For Paige.

“Hey, guys.” I stand up and fix a bright smile on my face.

As expected, my “aunt” and “uncle” each give me big hugs, and Mother even kisses me lightly on the cheek. I resist the urge to rub it off.

Of course Tabby and Eleanor invite them to join us and we all sit around the booth. I manage to nab a seat on the end so I have an easy escape route.

“It’s so nice to hang out with some of Ruby’s family,” Eleanor says.

“Our nieces mean so much to us,” Mother says. “We never were able to have children of our own.” She touches the string of pearls around her neck, her eyes going misty.

Eleanor makes a sympathetic sound. “That’s so sad.”

I cough.

“That’s why we got involved in charity work, like with the library. It feels really good to give back to people, especially children.”

I have to tune them out before my internal screaming escapes. They talk to my friends, all smiles and happy exuberance. They talk about the charity and some other work they’ve done—all lies—but it’s so convincing. A mass of anxiety and anger slushes around inside me, building up and up. I can’t sit here and listen to this.

I know I’m being a hypocrite. I’m conning my friends. I have been this whole time, but it’s different somehow.

“I have to use the restroom.” I think I interrupt someone midsentence, but it can’t be helped.

I slide out of the booth and rush to the bathroom like I might explode—which I might, but not in the way one usually does when racing for a toilet. I don’t see their faces or their response to my sudden departure. All I see is red. The restrooms are down a long hallway at the back of the building, where it’s thankfully quieter and less crowded.

Once in the bathroom, I sequester myself in a stall and force myself to calm down. I knew this was coming. They weren’t going to leave me alone forever. But now they’re here and talking to my friends—conning my friends—and I’m going to have to deal with it. Panic will not help me, or them. Or Paige.

I force myself to breathe for a few minutes and then exit the stall. The person staring back at me from the other side of the mirror doesn’t look as crazy as I feel, so I have that going for me. I splash some water on my face, hoping the parents will have left the building by now, or at least not be talking to my friends anymore.

All my hopes are dashed as soon as I open the door.

They’re waiting for me.

Mother throws down the gauntlet. “You have some information to share with us.”