Stranger Danger (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 4)

Tell me about it.

“If Will is J.W. Quicksilver, then who’s this mysterious person going to Betty Jean’s book club tomorrow night?” I ask.

“That’s the big question.”

“Will must be beside himself.”

“It’s a delicate situation,” admits Sebastian. “He can’t come out and directly ask Betty Jean too many questions about this impostor without outing himself as the real J.W.”

“Poor baby. I feel so sorry for him.” I might need a hankie to wipe the sarcasm that’s practically dripping from my nose.

“Lucy, he wanted to tell you. He really did.”

“So what was stopping him?” Sebastian opens his mouth to say something, but I interrupt, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. There’s no reason that’s good enough to keep something this big from your supposed best friend. He told you, didn’t he?”

“Just don’t be too quick to judge until you know the whole story.”

“Is that a line from your sermon?”

“What—oh, um, not this week.” The guilty look on my brother’s face reminds me of Shirley’s deception. If Sebastian isn’t working on his sermon, what is he working on? And more importantly, why don’t he and Shirley want me to see it?

I stand up and stretch my arms over my head, trying to see what’s on his desk. All I can make out is a bunch of flyers with the words JOIN US on the top. The rest of the words are hidden beneath a stapler and a bowl of paper clips. Sebastian follows my gaze. His cheeks turn pink. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to see what’s written on the flyer, which makes me want to see it even more.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the flyers.

Sebastian picks up the stack of papers and clutches them against his chest. “Nothing.”

Right.

I glance down at Paco, and we lock eyes. I swear, sometimes I think that dog can read my mind because suddenly Paco jumps onto my brother’s lap, taking him off guard. The flyers scatter to the floor. I scoop one up. In big letters at the top of the sheet it says, JOIN US TUESDAY NIGHT FOR JESUS AND DONUTS.

“Lucy—” my brother starts, but it’s too late. I’ve already quickly perused the rest of the flyer.

“You’re serving donuts from Heidi’s Bakery at a church social?”

Heidi’s Bakery is located in downtown Whispering Bay, just a couple of miles from The Bistro by the Beach, the café I co-own with my friend Sarah Powers. We serve breakfast and lunch and the best muffins you’ll ever taste. Not that I would say that about my own muffins, but others have, so who am I to argue?

Recently my café was involved in a reality TV show that pitted six restaurants in our little town against one another for the title of Best Beach Eats. But then Tara Bell, the show’s producer, was murdered, and filming shut down, which was a major bummer because I really think The Bistro had a good shot to win. Plus, I could have really used the prize money.

With the help of Paco and my “gift,” I was able to solve Tara’s murder, but not before making a few enemies around town. Like Heidi Burrows. During a meeting of all the show’s participants, I outed her bakery for not disclosing the nutritional values of the food she serves (believe me, if I served food with the crazy calorie and fat counts that she does, I wouldn’t disclose it either).

“What’s wrong with serving donuts from Heidi’s?” Sebastian asks defensively. “We always serve donuts and coffee after mass in the parish hall. Lucy, you have to get over this irrational jealousy you have of Heidi’s Bakery.”

“First off, I’m not jealous of Heidi and her overpriced donuts. But this isn’t mass, and you never serve premium donuts from Heidi’s. So what is this?” I wave the flyer in his face.

Paco barks as if to say, Yeah, what is this?

“It’s a one-time program. We’re having a speaker

come from the diocese, and Heidi offered to provide free refreshments. What was I supposed to do? Turn her down?”

“No, Judas Iscariot, you were supposed to ask your sister. I could have comped the muffins. Which, by the way, are lots healthier than donuts. First Will, now you.” I look at Paco. “C’mon, boy, at least you’re still loyal to me.”

Paco lifts his chin in the air, then turns his back on Sebastian. Good dog.

My brother frowns. “Don’t you think you’re blowing this out of proportion?”

“I hope you’re current on your CPR because those donuts of Heidi’s are loaded with enough fat to give the entire congregation a heart attack.”