“Gesundheit,” he said.
“Har har. Wilfred Peabody. He’s the jeweler on the list. Griffin said Wilfred’s been harassing him over some piece of jewelry or something. I kept seeing sparkles in my vision.”
“So it’s not another glitter bomb?”
“I think we’re safe. Gabe confirmed it by doing some other psychic stuff.”
“Thank God. I’m still finding glitter in my underwear,” Nick said.
“I also kept seeing Griffin’s legs.”
“That’s a straight up nightmare.”
“I know, right? Do you think we should take a closer look at the personal trainer?” she asked.
“I’ll bump her up on Brian’s list and see what he can dig up,” he promised.
The doorbell rang, and he jumped to his feet.
“Are you expecting someone?” Riley called after him as he practically sprinted for the door.
He yanked it open and disappeared onto the front porch.
“Your snack,” Gabe said, returning from the kitchen with Burt on his heels. He held out a plate with a picture-perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut diagonally with precision.
“Hey, Schwarzenegger 2.0, get your biceps out here,” Nick called from the porch.
“I think he means you,” Riley said, taking a bite of her sandwich. Burt sat in front of her, staring hard at the food and drooling. “Don’t even think about it, buddy. Mr. Willicott said your poop looked like Orange Julius.”
Nick and Gabe returned, carrying a large flat box between them.
“Just set it down against the table,” Nick said through gritted teeth. They maneuvered the box into position.
“What is that?” Riley asked, the words muffled by peanut butter.
“That is an eighty-five-inch TV.” Nick patted the box with affection.
The sandwich lodged in her throat. “Nick! I thought you said no medium-size purchases?”
“That was before I saw the TV in Gentry’s gym. And before I got Mom and Dad’s birthday check in the mail. Besides, now you and I can watch those movies you got me upstairs in ourlockedbedroom.”
Mr. Willicott shuffled past in his bathrobe, chugging a bottle of Diet Pepsi. He paused in the middle of the foyer and released a dragon-worthy belch.
“I know I’m supposed to be the voice of reason, but I’m not hating this idea,” she admitted.
“This television appears to be quite small,” Gabe said.
“He’s being sarcastic,” Riley explained.
13
1:07 p.m. Friday, November 1
Peabody Jewelry was sandwiched between a vape shop and a vegan restaurant in one of Camp Hill’s mini strip malls. Nick eyed the classy gold lettering on the shop window as he put Riley’s Jeep in park, then noted the handwrittenGoing Out of Businesssigns.
Riley snickered in the passenger seat. “Uncle Jimmy is offended by the vegan place. He says he doesn’t trust anyone who doesn’t eat fish.”
“Don’t worry, Uncle Jimmy. We’re going fishing for a bad guy.”