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

“You’re not a disaster,” I say firmly. “You’ve worked your butt off for this town. The chamber of commerce is lucky to have you.”

She wipes the tears from her cheeks. “You’re only saying that because you’re my best friend.”

“Well…” I try to think of something to console her, but I’m not as good at this as Sarah.

Brittany leaves to go back to work and try to salvage her budget, and since we’ve driven away all our customers, Sarah and Jill take off as well. That leaves just me, the cops and the FBI.

Agent Billings is in the middle of chastising me for jumping to conclusions and creating a lot of trouble. And just when I think that my day couldn’t possibly get any worse. It does.

Agent Parks comes up to us with an expression of total and utter fear. He’s holding a clear baggie in his hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but I thought you might want to see this.” He holds up the baggie. There’s a button inside. “We found this in the parking lot about two feet from the dumpster. We’ve just verified it’s a button from the shirt Rinaldi was wearing when he was murdered.”

“El Tigre’s signature clue. Okay, so today hasn’t been a total waste then. Let’s get the footage off the camera in the parking lot and see what we’re dealing with.”

Agent Parks clears his throat. “That’s just it, ma’am, I’m afraid someone disabled that camera.”

“Disabled it?” The disbelief on her face mirrors my own.

“How did they do that?” I ask.

“Not they,” she says tightly. “He. While we were in the kitchen listening to your nonsensical rantings, the real El Tigre was out here making fools of us all.”

“But—”

“C’mon,” Agent Billings snaps at her people, “we have less than eight hours to get out of here.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To take Joey somewhere safe. Which means as far away from Whispering Bay as possible.”

If I thought Mike was disgusted, that was nothing in comparison to the way Agent Billings looks at me. It’s like I’m a wad of gross sticky gum stuck beneath her favorite shoe.

“I have no idea how you caught The Angel of Death. You must have bumbled your way into solving that. From now on, McGuffin, do the United States a favor and stay away from Bureau business before you take the entire country down with you. Got it?”

Chapter Nineteen

I told Brittany she wasn’t a disaster and I was right.

I’m the disaster.

Now that everyone’s gone I’m lying on my living room couch feeling sorry for myself. Paco is snuggled next to me. He gives me a look that’s different from all the other looks I’ve cataloged so far. I’ve decided to call this the Don’t Cry, Lucy look because his brown eyes are pleading with me telling me that it’s all going to be okay. Intellectually I know that’s true. I’ll live this down eventually. In about another ten years or so.

I thought going to my parents for dinner would be a good idea, but I can’t face them just yet so I call Will and tell him I’m coming over.

He’s waiting with a big chocolate bar for me and a bone for Paco. Paco greedily snatches the bone and takes it off into the corner of the living room, but I’m not in the mood for chocolate or anything else. I’ve never gotten the concept of being too distressed to eat before, but I totally get it now.

“Are you sick?” Will teases when I turn down the chocolate.

Since he was part of the group in the dining area that’s oblivious to what went down in the kitchen, I fill him in on everything. How I accused a Jersey City homicide detective of being a ruthless hitman and all the while, El Ti

gre got the best of everyone.

“You told me not to do, but did I listen? No.”

“Sure you don’t want that chocolate? I’ve got whiskey too.”

“No thanks.”

“C’mon, Lucy, none of this is your fault.”