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Stranger Danger (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 4)

Page 11

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Nice suit.

Cologne.

Opens the car door for me.

Bought tickets for tonight because of me.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this is a real date.

“Thanks,” I say cautiously.

“My pleasure.” He smiles, and my insides go all mushy.

Oh no. My girl parts think this is a real date too.

Chapter Four

The Harbor House is owned by Brittany’s family and is Whispering Bay’s fanciest eatery, serving premium seafood and upscale cocktails. I worked here during the summers while I was in high school. Even though the work was hard, the experience cemented my passion for cooking.

The parking lot is crammed with cars, and the valets are directing everyone to an overflow lot. Rusty Newton, a local cop and one of my favorite customers (he comes by every morning for a cup of coffee and a lemon poppy seed muffin), is assisting with traffic flow. Rusty is what the locals call a good old boy. He’s in his mid-forties, and he’s been on the force forever. He and the department’s receptionist, Cindy, have been dating for a while now.

Seeing a police presence at the event reminds me that Whispering Bay’s finest might be needed before the night is out. Impersonating another person has to be a crime, right?

“Do you know if Rusty is going to be here all night?” I ask Travis.

“Why?”

“Just wondering. So … could you arrest someone if you had to? I mean, since you’re not on duty?”

“Why? Are you expecting a rumble?” he teases. “Some overzealous fans planning to rush the stage and fight one another to get the first autograph?”

“Not exactly.”

The humor in his eyes fades. “Lucy, do you know something I don’t?”

I wish I could give Travis the heads-up on what’s about to go down, but I promised Will he could do this his way. I clamp my mouth shut before I accidentally spill the beans.

Travis groans. “Promise me you’re not planning some kind of crazy shenanigans tonight.”

“What on earth makes you think that?”

He raises a brow.

“Okay, so maybe in the past, I’ve pulled a few stunts, but it was always for a good cause. Like finding a killer,” I remind him. “But there’s no unsolved murder, no dead bodies, nothing to worry about. Right?”

“Right,” he says, but he doesn’t sound confident. Considering our history, I can’t blame him.

We leave his car with a valet. Inside the building, we’re shown to a private salon with a terrific view of the gulf. The room holds maybe two hundred people, and it’s packed. Brittany is right. This event is big. I glance around to see lots of familiar faces, including—

“Lucy!” My mother scurries across the room to give me a hug. She’s got a glass of champagne in one hand and a yummy-looking appetizer in the other. “Isn’t this exciting! J.W. Quicksilver here in Whispering Bay!” She steps back to get a look at Travis and me. “Well, don’t you two look wonderful! Is that a new dress?”

“Um, sort of.”

My father, who’s always three steps behind my mother, catches up to the conversation. “Hello, kids,” he says good-naturedly.

Travis shakes Dad’s hand. “George. Good to see you again.” He gives my mother a smile straight out of the Eddie Haskell school of smarm. “Molly, you look lovely. You and Lucy could be sisters.”

Mom titters like a schoolgirl. “Aren’t you the charmer?”



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