Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“You are to me,” she says softly. “In just the past few months, you’ve saved me more times than I can count on one hand. That’s who you are. Not the guy who punched Sweaty Fingers.”
“Wimpy,” I correct automatically.
“I hate that name,” she says. “It reminds me of Popeye. Worst cartoon ever.”
“Well, Wimpy is the worst Sweetwater around these parts,” I say. “He’s paranoid as fuck and not above using his fists to get what he wants. And until Cassie Ann gets back from her trip to Winnipeg, he’s in charge. If he’d gotten you into the cupcake shop today, I don’t know what he would have done to you, but I guarantee it wouldn’t have been pleasant.” I swallow, not wanting to scare her, but determined to deliver the wake-up call she clearly needs. “And I wouldn’t have been able to stop him, Nora. Not if the rest of the guys were in there with him. I’m only one man. I would have followed you in there, but I’m not sure if either of us would have walked out again. The Sweetwaters don’t make people disappear often, but it has happened before. And with Wimpy in charge, it might happen a lot more frequently in the future.”
She emits a shaky breath. “I’ve been really dumb, haven’t I?”
“Naïve is probably a better word,” I say, relieved that I seem to be getting through to her. “Which is understandable. Cassie Ann does her best to appear non-threatening. It’s what’s allowed her to fly under law enforcement’s radar for so long.”
It’s also why the CIA was finally called in. Cassie Ann has been a slippery target for years now, evading local law enforcement and probes by the Drug Enforcement Agency. But when she expanded her business into Canada, connecting with people suspected of selling both Canadian and American secrets to foreign governments, she made this an international issue, a CIA issue.
A me issue, since I’m the only officer working this part of rural Minnesota.
Nora perks up. “Law enforcement! We should go to them. Right now. Don’t you have a cousin who’s on the police force?”
“I have three cousins on the police force,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean they won’t arrest me if they find out I’m mixed up in all this.”
Her forehead furrows. “I still can’t believe it, Matty. Why? For money? I thought handymen made a good living. And I see your name on the winners list for the stock car races all the time. And you live in a van and rent out your house now. Isn’t that more than enough to get by without turning to a life of crime?”
I arch a brow. “So, you’re stalking me?”
Nora sniffs and gives a small shrug. “No. I just notice things. That’s all. I’m a noticer. One who notices. I notice lots of things about lots of people, not just you. For example, did you know that Allana Quaker has a secret addiction to rabbit sausage and buys up the entire supply at the co-op every time they restock? She waits by the Bountiful Farms freezer like a predator every Thursday morning. I’ve started to think she’s part wolf.”
I shake my head. “Why would I know that?”
“You wouldn’t,” she shoots back. “Because you’re not a noticer. And that’s okay, but it’s not okay to accuse people who are noticers of being stalkers. That’s an ugly word.”
“My sister said you used to stalk me in high school,” I say, the words out before I think better of them.
Nora pales. “What?”
“She didn’t tell me about it when it was happening,” I amend. “She didn’t say anything until a few years ago. One night, I was over at her place, complaining about my shitty love life. She said it was my own fault for not noticing the quality people who have shown interest over the years. People like…you, for example.” I hold her gaze as I add, “So, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not a noticer.”
“Great,” she whispers, her cheeks pinker than they were before. “I never told anyone I had a crush on you. I thought that was my private, silly teenage girl secret. Apparently, I’m easier to read than I thought. How mortifying.” Her lashes flutter. “Almost as mortifying as the fact that I didn’t recognize you that day with the squirrel. I still haven’t told Starling that I knew you back when we were kids and didn’t realize it until I saw you with Christian at the Ren Faire. I’m too embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” I say, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. “I’ve changed a lot since high school. As far as the other stuff is concerned, Melissa is my twin. She pays a lot closer attention to my life than anyone else. And she has a sixth sense about who likes who. Except when it comes to her own love life, I guess.”