Page 13 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

Chapter Twelve

Lindy

A shiver ran over Lindy as she hurried toward the section of the grocery store that housed the eggs.

A woman in her late fifties was there, acting like she owned the section.

She had a head of bleached blonde hair with dark as night roots.

The faint smell of whiskey and something that seemed a lot like peppermint clung to the woman.

An unlit cigarette dangled expertly from the woman’s lips as she shook her head, mumbling to herself as she opened carton after carton of eggs, inspecting them like it was her job.

The woman wore cut-off jean shorts and a low-cut leopard print shirt, all of which was for far warmer weather than they were currently having in Colorado.

She looked as if she’d slept in her makeup, which consisted of bright blue eyeshadow, thick black mascara, and bright red lipstick, all of which was slightly smeared.

Basically, she was the total opposite of Bitchy Grape Lady.

Lindy reached for a carton of eggs, and the woman’s hand darted out.

“Not that one, Kitten,” said the woman, her voice raspy.

“I went through that whole row already. They all got cracked ones in them. The ones on the row under them are worse. I swear, they restock with their eyes closed or the lights off. Maybe both. Men. Can’t live with them, and people notice if you start killing them. ”

Lindy drew her hand back, unsure what to say to the woman, who didn’t seem to be all that sane.

That being said, she was still better than Bitchy Grape Lady and was smart to check the eggs.

Lindy had never thought to open the cartons at the store and check the eggs.

More than once, she’d gotten home to find some of the eggs were cracked, though it might have happened on her walk back to the house.

Either way, Lindy and her aunt needed every egg to be usable.

The woman grabbed a different carton of eggs and thrust it at Lindy in a forceful yet oddly gentle way. “Here. Those are all good. Take that one. I’ll find another. Got a coupon for fifty cents off if you want it.”

“Are you sure?” asked Lindy, reaching out tentatively for the eggs.

The woman glanced at her and paused. “Once you get to know me, you’ll realize I don’t say anything I don’t mean, Kitten.”

Lindy wasn’t sure how to respond to that since there was little chance that she and the woman would be bonding beyond the egg section at the store. Lindy also wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about being called kitten nonstop. Smiling, she took the carton of eggs. “Thank you. My name is Lindy.”

The woman’s fingers brushed hers, and a static spark shot between them. Lindy gasped and jerked the eggs toward her, nearly dropping the milk in the process. The woman merely nodded as if she'd expected the electrical jolt to happen.

“Thought I sensed it coming from the other aisle right before I heard some woman carrying on,” said the woman, reaching into her bra and pulling out a coupon. She held it out for Lindy.

Taking the coupon, Lindy’s brows met. “Sensed what?”

Surprise flashed on the woman’s face, but she schooled her expression quickly.

A stock boy appeared from around the corner. His gaze widened when he spotted the woman. He pivoted swiftly like he was trying to make a fast getaway.

The woman snapped her fingers. “Nice try, Joey. I’ve got a question for you.”

The stock boy froze and then glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you stock these shelves with your eyes closed?” she demanded.

He blinked rapidly. “Uh, no, ma’am.”

“Do you stock them with the lights off?” she asked, her tone never wavering.

Joey looked nothing short of confused. “Ma’am?”

“You got wax in your ears, Joey?” she asked before coughing, the cigarette still in its starting place. Her lungs sounded like she shouldn’t even think of ever smoking again.

“No. I don’t think so,” said Joey, who looked as if he might cut and run.

“Joey.”

“Yes, ma’am?” he asked with a squeak.

“You get a new shipment of eggs in today?” she asked, peering down her nose at him. “And I told you to call me Teresa. Not ma’am.”

“No, ma’am, erm, Miss Teresa,” he said before standing straight. “Um, Teresa.”

She cast an amused look in Lindy’s direction. “You can lead a man to water?—”

“You get a new shipment of pickled herring?” asked the woman.

Joey turned a little green at the mention of the pickled fish. “Uh, no, but that’s only because you’re the only one who buys it, and you don’t buy it regularly.”

“It’s got a shelf life that should take it through the end of times, Joey,” snapped the woman. “Order some and keep it stocked. My man friend likes it in his omelet. Oh, and he likes those jellybeans you had in around Easter time. The ones that had all the weird flavors.”

“He doesn’t eat them on his omelet too, does he?” asked Lindy before closing her mouth quickly. It wasn’t any of her business.

The woman shrugged. “Yeah, Sweet-Cheeks likes them on there as a garnish, he also likes it with cream cheese and jalapenos, but I got me a bunch of both of those at the bar. No need to buy more.”

Lindy’s gaze collided with Joey’s, and they had a perfect, shared moment of disgust at the manfriend’s omelet choices.

An older gentleman with a combover, a bow tie, and a short-sleeved dress shirt walked out from the cereal aisle. He had a clipboard in his hand and a name tag proudly proclaiming him to be the assistant manager. He frowned. “Teresa, what have I told you about going through all my eggs?”

“Well, Fred,” she said, somehow managing to carry conversations with the cigarette in her mouth, never once falling.

It had to have taken years of practice to perfect.

“Unless you laid these, they ain’t your eggs.

And maybe if you folks treated them with soft hands, I wouldn’t have to check the cartons for broken ones.

Then again, you wouldn’t know much about having a tender touch, would you? ”

“You can’t smoke in here,” Fred said, motioning with his clipboard to her cigarette as he ignored her comment about him lacking a tender touch.

“No shit, Sherlock,” she shot back as she returned to opening egg cartons. “Did you notice it ain’t lit? With that keen sense of observation you have, I bet you’re the one stocking these shelves.”

“Teresa,” Fred said with an exasperated breath, tugging at his bow tie.

She paused in her quest for the perfect carton of eggs.

When she turned partially to face Fred, the man paled.

Teresa put a hand on her hip. “What do you want to say to me, Fred? Think carefully before you do it. It’s been a while since you’ve signed my bat.

It’s in my car. I like to keep it close in the event I feel like using it. ”

“Signed your bat?” echoed Lindy before clamping her mouth shut.

Joey nodded. “Ms. Teresa has got a bat she carries around with her and then keeps behind the register at her bar while she’s there.

If she hits you with it, you have to sign it.

Rumor has it, there isn’t much space left on it to fit names.

I heard the food inspector’s arm still doesn’t bend right since she hit him with it six years ago. ”

Lindy chuckled, assuming the stock boy was joking.

When no one else laughed, she blinked. “Really?”

Teresa grinned, her gaze locked on Fred.

“Yep, Kitten. The fire inspector has a story or two to tell about my bat too. Speaking of which, Fred has signed it a few times now. Looks like he wants to sign it again. Fine by me. I like repeat customers. I get a kick out of watching their signature change over the years, especially if I break their wrist.”

Fred lifted his hands as if he were being held at gunpoint. “Nope. I don’t want to sign it again, Teresa. I’m good. Carry on with checking the eggs. I’m going to find somewhere else to be.”

“Take me with you,” said Joey, desperation in his voice.

The pair of them hurried off, leaving Lindy standing with Teresa.

“I have got to learn to clear an area like that,” said Lindy before thinking better of it.

Teresa snorted. “Stick with me, Kitten, and I’ll show you the ropes.”

“Uh, thanks, but I should get going now. My aunt will be waiting for me. Thank you for the eggs,” managed Lindy before rushing off in the direction of the bread.

She didn’t look back at Teresa but had a funny feeling the woman was going to go through every single carton of eggs there was just to spite Fred.