Stranger Danger (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 4)

“Oh. Like Fifty Shades of Grey steamy?”

“I wish it was that tame. Mine is a lot steamier.”

Cindy giggles. “Lucy McGuffin! What would your—oh. That’s awkward.”

“Tell me about it. I had planned to publish it under a pen name. I gave it to Archie to read. He told me his name was Hoyt Daniels and he was an aspiring author like myself. I know it was foolish of me, but I was just so taken in by them.”

She nods. “Like I said, you weren’t the only one. How much money did you give them?”

“We never got that far. But, he has my manuscript, Cindy. With my real name on it! What if someone gets ahold of it? What if someone shows it to my brother? I would die of embarrassment.”

“Oh, hon. What are you going to do?”

“After I talked to Anita this morning, it gave me hope. If Archie is half the gentleman she says he is, maybe he’ll tell me what they did with my manuscript.”

“It’s worth a try,” says Cindy.

“You think so? The thing is, how do I talk to him? If the feds are coming to question him, chances are they’ll take him out of state. I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to my book.”

“You poor thing. That’s awful.” She hesitates. “I bet Rusty would let you talk to Archie.”

“Really?”

“Why not? If the two of us ask him nicely. Plus, you could always throw in some free muffins for him.”

“Just for the rest of his life!” I say.

Cindy smiles coyly. “Let me see what I can do.”

I leave Paco with Cindy and follow Rusty down the hallway. He stealthily looks to the right, then to the left, motioning me to follow him. I feel like a ninja on a secret mission. “I hope this isn’t going to get you in trouble,” I say.

“Nah. I just want to make sure no one’s looking.”

“I promise, Rusty. Free lemon poppy seed muffins forever.”

“Aw, that’s okay, Lucy. Cindy told me what happened to you.” He clears his throat like he’s suddenly uncomfortable, and a wave of tenderness washes over me. Whatever happens, I can’t let Rusty or Cindy get in trouble over this.

He ushers me into the interrogation room, where Archie Clements sits at a table, eating one of my carrot cake muffins. He looks up in surprise. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Well, hello, Hoyt,” I say, using his alias.

He shrugs. “Sorry about that little ruse, my dear.”

“You have five minutes,” warns Rusty. “I’ll be watching you from the window. He’s not dangerous, but if he makes a move, this visit is over.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Rusty points two V-sign fingers between himself and Archie in the universal “I’m watching you” look, then closes the door.

“This is unexpected,” says Archie. “But I understand this excellent muffin is compliments of your café. Thank you. The food around here leaves a bit to be desired.”

“You’re welcome.” Because I’m curious, I ask. “Did you select that muffin yourself, or did Cindy just hand it to you?”

“I selected it myself. Very nice variety, by the way.”

You know the old saying you can always judge a book by its cover? I have another saying. You can always judge a person by their favorite muffin. Carrot cake muffins are loyal and trustworthy, two qualities I’m having trouble ascribing to Archie Clements right now. Still, it bodes well for our conversation.