Page 68 of The Pretenders of Copper County
“I just got the message you left with the… with my company. Is everyone okay?” I demanded. “Did something happen?”
“No, Reed. Everyone’sfine,” he said firmly. “And that was the first thing I told the person who took the message, but I guess they didn’t relay that part, huh?”
“No,” I said, my heart rate slowing to its normal rhythm. “They didn’t.”
“Ah, well. Those are the breaks when you have a fancy-pants secretary who takes messages for you, eh?” Knox teased.
A muffled voice cut in. “They’re not calledsecretariesanymore, Knox. God.” Gage Goodman, my brother’s boyfriend, sounded like he was pressed against Knox’s side… which tracked since the two of them were generally inseparable. “They’re administrative assistants. Sayingsecretarymakes you sound really fucking old.”
“Thank you so much, Goodman,” Knox said dryly. “What would I do without your advice and support?”
“Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out,” he said happily. “Now, ask Reed about the thing and stop stalling.”
“I wasn’t stalling. I was reassuring him that we were all fine and then easing him into a conversation. In fact, I’d already be asking him if it weren’t foryouinterrupting?—”
“By all means, continue stalling by claiming how you’re not stalling,” Gage said eagerly. “This is fascinating, baby. Next-level stall tactics right here. I learn so much from you.”
Knox heaved a sigh. “Never fall in love, Reed,” he grumbled. “It starts out all hearts and flowers, then when it’s too late to pull back, you realize you’ve signed on to spend forever with someone who won’t hesitate to call you on your shit.”
“It’s hell,” Gage agreed. “Now,ask him.”
I shook my head, amused. “Ask me what?”
“What my beloved means,” Knox said, “is that there was an incident here in town last week?—”
“Incident?” Gage squawked. “An incident could meananything. An incident could be a… a traffic jam. Or Mrs. Hendelmann’s cat sneaking into Jack’s diner to give birth again. Or the cows in the orchard pasture finally staging the coup I know they’ve been planning for months, even though no one believes me. This was no incident, Knox—this was a potentialfelony. Right here in our beloved Little Pippin Hollow.” He gave an aggrieved sniff.
“You know, Goodman,” Knox said. “Someguys might not think it’s sexy that you sound like my third-grade teacher when you clutch your pearls like that, but not me. No, sir. Your little squawks and gasps of outrage really do it for me.”
Gage squawked again, and I heard a muffledthump, followed by Knox’s laughter.
“You are so fucking lucky I have a thing for lumberjacks,” Gage said hotly.
I snorted. “I miss you guys,” I blurted. “I mean, I know I just saw you a week ago, but… you know I love you, right?”
Both men went quiet for a minute, and I rolled my eyes as I imagined them exchanging one of those silent, speaking glances that people in relationships seemed to master.
“I’m not dying,” I put in. “I just had a… amoment, after I got your message. I thought someone was hurt or whatever, and I realized I really need to make an effort to call more. Tell you about my life. I want you guys to, ah… know me better, I guess.”
I wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from. Chris would probably say I wasoverwrought. Possiblyfreaked-out. The idea made me smile reluctantly.
“You could move back to the Hollow, you know,” Knox said. “I did. It’s not Boston, but…” He paused, and when he spoke again, the smile in his voice told me he was looking at Gage. “…it has certain attractions.”
“See, now, I don’t think he needs to move home just because he misses you guys,” Gage countered. “I appreciate my family way more since I left Florida. I still get all the Whispering Key weirdness on the group chat, but now I’ve also found a place where I really fit. Not to say that the Hollow’s not weird, too, in its own way, but it’smykind of weird.” He added sagely, “Life’s all about embracing your own personal weird, Knox.”
“So true,” Knox agreed. “And Idoembrace you, Goodman. Regularly. But Reed?—”
“Reed,” I interrupted, “is going to jump through the phone and strangle you both if one of you fuckers doesn’t explain the felonious non-emergency you called me about. Immediately.”
There was the sound of a brief struggle like they were fighting over the phone. Apparently, Gage won, because he put the cell phone on speaker and spoke next.
“See, Reed, the thing is, Norm Avery claims he saw you kidnap someone outside the Bugle last week. One of the servers left town about a week ago?—”
“Chris,” Knox put in.
“Not Crys,” Gage said impatiently. “I just saw her yesterday.”
“I mean Other-Chris,” Knox said. “The one who helped Webb at the orchard. The guy who does those cheese board things… what do you call ’em?”
