Whack The Mole (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 2)

He walks toward the door like he’s going to open it and see what’s out there.

“Will, hold on. We should wait till the cops get here.”

“I’m just going to take a quick look around the parking lot.”

Will has no idea of the potential danger out there. He doesn’t know anything about the FBI or the mob or El Tigre. He’s like an innocent lamb being led to the slaughter. No way am I about to let that happen.

I grab the heaviest frying pan I can find. Ironically, it’s the same one used to whack me on the head just a week ago. Good. Having personal experience with this thing I can testify it makes a friggin’ good weapon.

“No,” I say firmly. “You absolutely cannot open that door. I won’t let you.”

Will looks startled by the vehemence in my voice. Of the two of us, I’m the one who usually jumps over the cliff with no thought of what lies below.

“Lucy, do you know something I don’t know?”

“Actually…yes.”

Will frowns. “Go on.”

I know I’m not supposed to tell anyone about El Tigre, but I have to. It’s the only way to keep Will safe.

“Okay, so—”

There’s a loud knock on the door startling us both. I’d recognize that knock anywhere. “It’s Travis. Let him in.”

Will opens the door.

Travis takes one look at him, barefoot with his hair rumpled, then his gaze shoots over to me. I’m wearing my pink fleece Pac-Man pajama pants and my sweatshirt that says Muffins are NOT ugly cupcakes. I’m also barefoot, and my hair has probably made a trip to crazy town and back. It must look like the two of us have just…

My face goes hot.

Will ushers Travis into the kitchen. “Glad to see you, man.”

Travis, I notice also looks like he’s just woken up. He’s wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt and no socks with his sneakers. It makes me feel a whole lot safer knowing that he literally flew out of bed when I called. He’s also got a gun, which I’m not a big fan of, but in this case, yes, please. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“Will and I both heard a noise outside in the parking lot.”

“I notified the team on my way over,” says Travis. “They should be here in ten minutes or less.”

“Team?” Will says, confused.

Travis doesn’t miss a beat. “Since there was a dead body found in the dumpster here yesterday we have to assume it could be related.”

Will nods. “Have they identified the body yet?”

“I think I hear a car now,” Travis says, smoothly avoiding Will’s quest

ion. Travis catches my gaze, but his expression is guarded. “You two stay here.” He closes the door firmly behind him.

I run to the front of the café and look out the window. Two dark-colored sedans roll into the parking lot. Agent Billings, followed by the rest of her team, swarm the premises.

“Looks like I better put on some coffee.”

Two hours later the FBI team is gone. Will offers to take Paco for a walk, leaving Travis and me alone in the kitchen.

“You didn’t find anything?” Not that I want them to find anything, but… Correction: I would have been ecstatic if they’d found El Tigre and this whole thing had been resolved. I lower my voice even though there’s no one around to hear. “Not even his signature trademark?”

“Nothing.”