Page 22 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
“Rest?” Mrs. Perez laughs. “That boy called me at eight oh five in the morning to check on Hercules, and Dr. Diggle says he’s been holding meetings from his office since ten.”
“That’s good news for us—ah, I mean, you, the Scuttlebutts, then, right?” Mr. Abboud winks. “If he’s feelin’ so good, he won’t go suing us.”
“He’s not suing anyone.” I raise my voice to be heard over the group that’s already moving toward my office like a bunch of people in a three-legged race.
“But how do you know?” Mrs. Carver takes my arm and leads me inside my own building.
“I asked him. He’s not going to sue you.”
A collective sigh is released into my office, and I regret standing so close to Mr. and Mrs. Carver. At least one of them had an onion sandwich for lunch.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Mrs. Perez says, sitting down in a side chair and setting Hercules in her lap.
“Shouldn’t we discuss the fact that Johansson left Hercules here in the first place?” I ask.
Mr. Carver waves me off. “He’s long gone, and good riddance.”
Okay, that’s interesting. I knew Johansson and Mr. Carver had words over the tomato contest at the town fair, but maybe it’s deeper than that.
“At least now we can have our meetings without some nosy two-faced cheater snooping around.” Mr. Carver plops down at my desk.
I rush toward him and rearrange my papers and keyboard so he doesn’t accidentally spill something—again.
“What makes you think Thane isn’t a nosy two-faced liar?” I huff.
“Not Thane. I’m talking about Johansson.” Mr. Carver watches as I push everything out of his reach.
“And I don’t lie,” Thane’s rough voice says at my back. I stand upright and fight the chill working down my spine.
Squaring my shoulders, I face the man in question, then hiss, “Mr. Carver, you knew he was standing right there. You could have said something.”
“What he says is of no consequence.” Thane’s voice rolls down my arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I’m not a liar—I’m telling you now. I withhold information only when strictly necessary, but I will never lie.”
“Tone,” Mrs. Carver shouts, causing Thane to flinch and take a step back.
“Yes, I agree, tone.” Mrs. Perez touches her chin thoughtfully.
I would really appreciate it if someone could just knock me out cold right now.
“That’s not how this works,” I say.
Ignoring me, they keep saying “tone” all around us, and even Thane is muttering it now.
“What’s going on?” Rafe asks, entering the fray.
“Lock the vault,” Mr. Abboud says too loudly for the room.
“Abort, abort. Incoming,” Mr. Carver says with his hands in the air. “Collect all evidence.”
“Mr. Carver,” I say in my best schoolteacher voice. “We were not having a meeting. There’s no evidence.”
“Right, right, of course,” Mrs. Perez says. “That would be silly. Silly old minds of ours and all.”
Mrs. Perez might be the worst actress in the history of humankind.
“Are you hiding the Scuttlebutt Society from my friend?” Thane barks. When I glance over at him, I find him looking a little worse for the wear. I’ve never seen a hair out of place, and today, it appears he’s been pulling on the end of each strand individually.
“The Scuttlebutt Society?” Rafe asks, just as Mr. Carver says, “Tone, Thane. Tone.”
