Page 13 of A Dead End Fourth of July (Tiger’s Eye Mysteries #14)

Tess

"My car is still at the shop," I reminded Jack as we drove to the Gardner nursery to meet Cletus.

"I know. We'll pick it up after this, if you feel like driving. If not, I can drive you to work tomorrow."

Ollie Gardner and his fiancée Prism had texted me they had some time to talk about deactivating magical items. Magical trackers specifically, so I'd told Cletus this when I'd called him.

Before I could say a word, he'd made it very clear that he didn't want to know anything about my vision.

"Not one word. And don't tell anybody else either."

I'd told him I wouldn't, and we'd arranged to meet Ollie and Prism.

In the never-telling thing, though, husbands don't count. Jack and I had made a pledge on that beach in Atlantis to tell each other everything. But nobody had to know that, and even if Ollie suspected, it's not like he was going to ask.

"I don't understand why he'd come back to Dead End when nobody here seems to like him much," Jack said.

"I have no idea. It's kind of sad, really. Especially if it's all really about his dad, who was the con man."

"It wasn't his dad who bid on the fireworks contract, when he had to know it would cause problems. I heard Hatfield has had that contract for a very long time."

I shook my hair out of my face. I'd left it loose and not in a braid or ponytail like I wore to work, because Jack liked it that way. I glanced over at him and then reached over to hold his hand.

"Jack."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Thank you. Thank you for carrying me out of there and for taking care of me. Thank you for loving me."

"Always." His hand tightened on mine, and then he raised it to his lips. "Always."

We swung into the nursery parking lot to see that Cletus was already there, standing next to his car and talking to Ollie. I didn't see Prism.

When they saw us, Ollie waved. Cletus … didn't.

"He's not happy," I said slowly. "I'm not sure I want to do this after all. He doesn't need me to be here, anyway. He can talk to Ollie about this without me."

"He could," Jack said, pulling to a stop. "But Ollie may not talk to him without you. Ollie doesn't know this guy and doesn't trust what he's heard about him."

I turned to look at him, confused. "How do you know that? Is that some secret tiger mind-reading ability you haven't told me about before?"

"No. Ollie texted me he doesn't know this guy and doesn't trust what he's heard about him."

"Ah."

When we climbed out of the truck, we stepped into air fragrant with an explosion of floral scents. Nobody could raise plants like goblins, and the Gardners were absolute wonders as, well, gardeners.

"Do you think that's their real name?" Jack asked, almost as if he'd heard my thoughts.

"It's Dead End, Jack. Nobody asks about real names."

"Got it."

The front door of the greenhouse opened, and Prism danced across the lawn toward us.

If I hadn't known differently, I would have sworn she was Fae.

She was a few inches shorter than me and so delicate she looked fragile with her long, pale blond hair, lovely warm coppery skin, and sparkling hazel eyes.

She was also madly in love with Ollie, and he obviously returned that affection.

"It's nice to see her when she's not seeing death and abandonment in a crystal ball," I murmured.

Jack just laughed and took my hand, and we walked forward to talk to the trio.

Thirty minutes later, we knew all we could ever want to know about how to deactivate a magical tracking crystal, after Cletus finally told us exactly what his stalker ex was using to find him again and again.

As usual, it mostly came down to salt.

There was a chant, and smashing it would help, but then Cletus needed to pour salt on the shards and bury or burn the whole mess, because a crystal that somebody had attuned to you would stay attuned in every shard. Every molecule.

It was creepy, really.

Cletus, who'd stayed as far away from me as he could manage the entire time, hurriedly thanked Ollie and Prism, jumped in his car, and sped away.

Ollie only raised his eyebrows, but Prism shuddered.

"I don't get a good feeling from that man," she said. "I said nothing, because everyone has the right not to be stalked, but I don't want to talk to him again."

Ollie put his arm around her and gave us a somber look. "She's not alone. I did this for you, Tess, but I'd be wary of that guy. His vibes are … off."

Jack, who was as far from a hippie as I'd ever met, unlike the plant-whispering, folk-singing Gardners, nodded.

"Those vibes are way off."

Ollie suddenly turned to me and grinned. "Hey, Tess. We're splicing a new strain of zucchini. Any interest?"

"You are a bold man, Ollie Gardner. A foolish but bold man," I said through clenched teeth, remembering his magically mutated plant that had lifted me up and smacked me around my shop. "If you even think about giving me another vegetable—"

He couldn't hold in the laughter any longer and almost doubled over, cracking up.

"Hilarious," I muttered.

Jack grinned at me and slung an arm around my shoulders. "Come on, my fierce vegetable-defying warrior. Let's go have a pool party with a scary twelve-year-old."

By the time six o'clock rolled around, we were in better moods and more than ready to host Shelley, Eleanor, Bill, and the potentially awful Oscar at our house for a barbecue and pool party.

Zane was spending the night at his house with his dad and friends, so he didn't come along.

Uncle Mike and Aunt Ruby had begged off, saying they wanted a quiet evening at home.

I reassured them I was fine and sent Jack over to pick up Shelley while I put together some side dishes for the burgers and hot dogs he was planning to grill.

We hadn't spent a lot of time with Bill since his and Eleanor's wedding.

He was a delightful man who'd fallen hard for Eleanor, but he'd been so shy he'd made excuses to pawn items nobody needed or wanted, over and over, just to spend time with her.

I'd finally encouraged her to go out with him just so I didn't have to write up the pawn for his jackalope ever again.

They arrived with wine and sodas and a cake, even though I'd told her not to bring anything, because Eleanor was Eleanor, a certified expert on all rules in the Big Book of Southern Manners, which none of us had actually read, and which probably didn't exist, but which had been drummed into us since birth.

Unfortunately, they also arrived with Oscar.

The first thing he did after Bill and Eleanor went inside was pick a fight with Shelley, who thankfully didn't turn him into a toad. She did, however, burst into tears when he called her a stupid little girl, and then she ran into the house to get away from him.

Jack and I both started toward him to have a chat about manners and, basically, to tell him not to be a little jerk.

That's when he picked up my cat and threw her into the pool.

I shrieked and jumped into the pool to rescue Lou, who could swim perfectly fine but was spitting mad.

Oscar burst into tears and raced off through the backyard toward the woods.

Jack shifted into his tiger shape and went after Oscar.

By the time I wrapped my cat in a towel and let her hide in my closet, calmed Eleanor and Bill down and plied them with wine, explained to Shelley that she was not, in fact, allowed to use her magic to dump Oscar into the pool and hold him there, and, finally, changed out of my wet dress and into shorts and a T-shirt, Jack and Oscar came walking out of the woods.

I was relieved to see Jack was human again, and Oscar didn't seem to have been hung upside down by his ankles, from the way he was laughing.

To his credit, Oscar marched straight up to me, where I stood next to the grill.

"Mrs. Shepherd, I'm very sorry. It was wrong of me to take out my bad mood on anybody here, but especially not on somebody younger than me and especially not on a defenseless cat."

I blinked.

First, the "Mrs. Shepherd" caught me off guard. Second, Lou, far from being defenseless, would have clawed him to ribbons if she'd gotten her paws on him.

But then I snapped out of it.

"Oscar, I really appreciate that. I won't ask you to apologize to Lou, because my cat won't want to hear it, but I think you should talk to Shelley," I said gently.

His lips quivered, but he squared his thin shoulders and trudged up the steps to my kitchen door like a soldier marching to the firing squad.

I turned to Jack in disbelief.

He walked over and hugged me. "Lou okay?"

"She's fine. Luckily, I still have some salmon left from the post-trip apology. What in the world happened out there?"

But Eleanor, Bill, Oscar, and Shelley came outside just then, all of them with somewhat forced smiles on their faces.

"So," Bill said, rubbing his hands together. "What's for dinner?"

After that, we played pool volleyball and ate lots of burgers and hot dogs and pie and cake, and within no more than half an hour, the smiles were real and the evening was actually fun.

When Eleanor and Bill were packing up to go, planning to drop Shelley off on their way home, I noticed Oscar sidle away from the group goodbyes and pull Jack a few feet away from the pool to talk.

And then, wonder of wonders, the boy hugged him before dashing to the car. They all waved, even Oscar, and then they drove away.

"Okay. Spill, Buster," I demanded, folding my arms. "What happened?"

Jack sighed. "His parents are getting a divorce. They dumped him on Grandpa Bill for the summer while they work out the logistics. He's a very sad, very angry little guy."

"And it took a tiger to figure this out?"

He grinned and started stacking dishes to carry inside. "Well. Tigers are cool. After he gathered the courage to touch my giant, furry head, we walked for a bit. Boy and tiger. And he told tiger me all the stuff he would have been mortified to confess to human me."

It made sense. Tiger Jack had pulled Shelley out of some tough times, too.

"You're pretty wonderful, you know?"

"I know," he said smugly. "But you can show me just how wonderful after I do these dishes."

One of the best things about Jack was that he liked to do dishes. Since I loved to cook and bake, we were obviously made for each other.

"And that hug at the end?"

He laughed. "After I shifted back, I told him I'm going to be restoring an old motorcycle I found in my uncle's garage, and I needed an assistant. In case he knew anybody who might be interested."

"And he was?"

"Twelve-year-old boy. Motorcycle. Dirt. Oil. Tools. What's not to like?"

I rose on my tiptoes to kiss him over the armful of dishes, and then we cleaned up from the party. When I was turning out the lights, Jack's phone rang.

"It's Sam," he said. "I should get this."

"Of course. I'm going to have a shower."

When I came out of the bathroom in my summer PJs, Jack was sitting on the bed, staring into space.

"What happened?"

"Sam said he got a video call from her, and she looks awful. Too thin, exhausted, and wild, like she might be using drugs."

"Oh, no! That poor girl. What are you going to do?"

"He recorded the call. I sent it to the Fox brothers. If they can get anything that might give us a clue to her location, I'm going to have to go try to track her down."

"Absolutely. If it were Shelley …"

Our gazes met. If it were Shelley, we'd never stop until we found her. He had to do the same for Katherine.

"There's one thing," Jack said, tapping his phone with one fingertip.

"What's that?"

"She knows about me. Sam said she might head here to find me so I can help."