Page 15 of Take a Hike
“Sure, unless you want to have them check you out at the hospital,” the medic said with an answering grin. “I can give you a ride.”
“Nope.” She ignored Callum’s “Yes,” giving the EMT a wave as she moved away from the ambulance. Callum made unhappy grumbly noises but followed close behind his wife, joining their group with a bigger frown than usual.
“Probably,” Charlie agreed with Lou’s assessment. “We do tend to rack up the enemies.”
“Around here though?” Fifi sounded skeptical. “Bennett and I were only in Simpson what—a week?—and Charlie just got here. We couldn’t have madethatmany people want to kill us during that time.”
“What about the militia with the stupid name?” Charlie asked, a little offended at how Fifi was underestimating their ability to drive people to murder.
“The Freedom Survivors?” Fifi asked. “We did put three of their members—including their leader—in jail,” Fifi admitted. “I mean, I suppose one or two might be holding a grudge?”
“So the militia members are all going in the suspect column on the…oh.” Lou sounded sad.
“What’s wrong?” Callum asked immediately, as if he had an internal alarm that activated every time his wife’s mood dropped.
“I just realized the whiteboard burned up.”
Charlie stared at the forlorn woman, confused. “Um…I think you can get a new one at Target for about twenty bucks?”
“Sorry.” Although Lou waved off everyone’s baffled concern with a weak laugh, she still looked suspiciously teary-eyed. “I know it was just a whiteboard, but I was fond of it. Silly, I know. I hadn’t even named it or anything. I need to stop getting so attached to my murder boards.”
“Um…sorry for your loss?” Fifi offered, shooting Charlie a look.
Charlie just shrugged. Different people got attached to different things. Whenever Charlie killed an electronicdevice—something she did with unfortunate regularity—Norah always looked as if she was about to cry. “Who else can go in the suspect column?”
“Hey, guys?” Fifi stared into the crowd. “The sheriff’s heading this way. Hang on, some woman just grabbed her and is talking her ear off.”
“That’s my boss—the owner of the coffee shop. I don’t have the energy to deal with her, much less the sheriff. Let’s head back to our cars and plan to meet at the honeymoon suite in thirty?” Lou suggested, but Callum shook his head.
“No more murder meetings tonight.” When Lou frowned at him, his stoic expression slipped, and a flash of exhausted worry was visible before his poker face returned.
Lou must’ve spotted that glimpse of Callum’s emotions too, since she didn’t argue but took his arm instead. “We’ll chat tomorrow,” she said. “I think we need some time to mourn the murder board and for Cal to realize I didn’t die this time.”
He let out a low grunt, as if punched in the stomach.
“Sorry.” Lou grimaced and patted the arm she held. “Of course I didn’t die. Just a little fire…anotherfire, where I work, and the murder board didn’t make it out.” By the end, Lou was sounding a little weepy, and it was Callum’s turn to pat her.
“That’s fine,” Charlie hurried to reassure her, not wanting Lou to break down into full-on sobs. She was terrible at consoling sad people. Angry people, she could handle, but the sad ones made Charlie want to run away. “Get some sleep, and we’ll regroup in the morning. I have some treasure-hunter ass to kick anyway. What’s the use of being stalked if your stalker doesn’t saveyou from being barricaded in a coffee shop and burned alive?”
“Why’d you look at me?” Bennett asked, looking as offended as a man made out of a boulder could look.
“You were a stalker.” Charlie gestured toward him. “Don’t you know the stalker code of conduct?”
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “There’s not a club with rules.”
“Maybe you should think about starting one.” When he continued glowering at her, she shrugged. “I’m just saying that being a stalker comes with some expectations, like not allowing your stalkee to be killed by someone else.”
Callum, who’d flinched at the “burned alive” part and then even harder at the “killed by someone else,” was being led away by Lou. “See you tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.
“Bye!” Fifi called back.
Preoccupied with a thought that just occurred to her, Charlie gave them an absent wave before asking Bennett and Fifi, “Maybe one of the treasure hunters saw the person who barricaded us in and set the building on fire.”
“I don’t know.” Fifi looked around them, frowning. “I don’t see any of them around. They’re always in everyone’s business, so they’d be watching the show if they could.”
“You don’t think the arsonist hurt them, do you?” Charlie peered around the crowd, the faces easy to make out, thanks to the firefighters’ floodlights. She didn’t even see Dave, who was the worst hider of the lot of them. Even Bones’s VW Fox was missing from her parking spot in front of the bank. A guilty twinge awoke in her middle. She and her sister had lured thetreasure hunters here. If they’d gotten hurt, Charlie would feel responsible. “Hang on, there’s Tassie.”
She headed toward the treasure hunter hovering by the edge of the onlookers. When Tassie spotted Charlie making her way toward her, she didn’t run or even try to fade into the crowd. Instead, she waved her arms as if to attract Charlie’s attention.
