Finding Harmony (Katie & Annalise Book 3) by Pamela Fagan Hutchins Page B
Authors: Pamela Fagan Hutchins
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the way, OK?”
“Fine by me. But don’t forget, we promised Taylor we would take him to the Agricultural Fair this afternoon.” I looked down at my iPhone. “Your mom texted me about an hour ago that she has the kids ready to go, and she said Taylor has been asking when he gets to go see Wilburn approximately every forty-five seconds.”
Nick pursed his lips and exhaled at length. “All right.”
He looked down at his phone and scrolled through a text. He muttered and I caught the word “Elena.” Elena? As he typed a quick response he said, “You know, it probably wasn’t such a great idea after all to bring you in on this case. I’m worried about your safety. I think you’re going to have to sit this one out, after all. I’m sorry, Katie.”
I saw flashing strobe lights and a siren went off in my head.
Breathe, Katie, breathe.
My emotions were still in such a tangle that I decided to hold it in for now—an act of monumental will. Because what I wanted to tell Nick was that he was a patronizing boob and could kiss my ass. It’s possible that my sudden personal growth and maturity might have had something to do with our proximity to Playboy’s Playmate of the Year, the one who had held Nick’s hand and refused to let go.
Or maybe it was because I was scared, too.
Chapter Six
Two hours later, Nick was pushing the twins in our all-terrain double stroller beside me as I walked hand in hand with Taylor through the crowds at the Ag Fair, carefully avoiding the eyes of my recently former boss. Taylor coughed. We hadn’t had a good rain in weeks and the throng had kicked up quite a dust cloud. The girls slept peacefully, despite the noise and smells.
“Mama, I want cotton candy,” Taylor said.
“Soon, but first let’s eat dinner. Cotton candy on an empty tummy will make you sick.”
“Daddy, I want to go see the pigs. I want to see Wilburn.”
“We’re headed there now, champ. Walk faster and we’ll see them sooner.”
I preferred the smell of fry chicken and johnnycakes to the odor of the barnyard, so I chimed in. “We have to eat some dinner first, though.”
The food smelled great. St. Marcos residents love their parties, and Carnival in January, monthly Jump Up festivals, and the annual Ag Fair were the big events of the year. The Ag Fair featured an exposition of plants and animals, but it also boasted a carnival and the best food the island had to offer. I knew what I wanted to eat: sizzling hot beef patés—spicy ground beef inside fried pastry, doubly greased up. Heaven.
We stopped at the food tents and I got in line for the fried things with Taylor while Nick stood in a separate queue for roti, a tortilla-like wrap made from ground lentils wrapped around curried chicken. And I was the one trying to lose the baby weight. Bad Katie.
I kept Nick in my line of vision. I was still flustered. Everything from the surreal interview with Elena and the lurking presence of Mr. Jiménez, to the weird exchange between the grieving widow and my husband, to getting fired on the way out the door—all of it unsettled me.
“What do you want to eat, Taylor?” I asked.
“I want to go see Wilburn,” he insisted.
“Sure, but before we go see Wilburn, what food do you want?” Taylor had turned toward the barns and was shifting from foot to foot as he swung my arm and heaved toward the pigs. “If you don’t answer me, I’m getting you dirt and bugs, OK?”
“Noooooo, Mama. No dirt and bugs. I wanna see Wilburn.”
“You can, after you eat your dirt and bugs.” I looked around for Nick and saw him and the girls. Good.
Taylor started to giggle. “I’m not s’posed to eat dirt. Daddy said so. And bugs are yucky. I want rice and peas.”
There’s my little island boy. “Rice and peas? Are you sure? Because they have dirt and bugs if you want it.”
“I want rice and peas.”
“Oh, good. I thought it was weird that you wanted dirt and bugs,” I teased. Maybe I could keep his brain
“Fine by me. But don’t forget, we promised Taylor we would take him to the Agricultural Fair this afternoon.” I looked down at my iPhone. “Your mom texted me about an hour ago that she has the kids ready to go, and she said Taylor has been asking when he gets to go see Wilburn approximately every forty-five seconds.”
Nick pursed his lips and exhaled at length. “All right.”
He looked down at his phone and scrolled through a text. He muttered and I caught the word “Elena.” Elena? As he typed a quick response he said, “You know, it probably wasn’t such a great idea after all to bring you in on this case. I’m worried about your safety. I think you’re going to have to sit this one out, after all. I’m sorry, Katie.”
I saw flashing strobe lights and a siren went off in my head.
Breathe, Katie, breathe.
My emotions were still in such a tangle that I decided to hold it in for now—an act of monumental will. Because what I wanted to tell Nick was that he was a patronizing boob and could kiss my ass. It’s possible that my sudden personal growth and maturity might have had something to do with our proximity to Playboy’s Playmate of the Year, the one who had held Nick’s hand and refused to let go.
Or maybe it was because I was scared, too.
Chapter Six
Two hours later, Nick was pushing the twins in our all-terrain double stroller beside me as I walked hand in hand with Taylor through the crowds at the Ag Fair, carefully avoiding the eyes of my recently former boss. Taylor coughed. We hadn’t had a good rain in weeks and the throng had kicked up quite a dust cloud. The girls slept peacefully, despite the noise and smells.
“Mama, I want cotton candy,” Taylor said.
“Soon, but first let’s eat dinner. Cotton candy on an empty tummy will make you sick.”
“Daddy, I want to go see the pigs. I want to see Wilburn.”
“We’re headed there now, champ. Walk faster and we’ll see them sooner.”
I preferred the smell of fry chicken and johnnycakes to the odor of the barnyard, so I chimed in. “We have to eat some dinner first, though.”
The food smelled great. St. Marcos residents love their parties, and Carnival in January, monthly Jump Up festivals, and the annual Ag Fair were the big events of the year. The Ag Fair featured an exposition of plants and animals, but it also boasted a carnival and the best food the island had to offer. I knew what I wanted to eat: sizzling hot beef patés—spicy ground beef inside fried pastry, doubly greased up. Heaven.
We stopped at the food tents and I got in line for the fried things with Taylor while Nick stood in a separate queue for roti, a tortilla-like wrap made from ground lentils wrapped around curried chicken. And I was the one trying to lose the baby weight. Bad Katie.
I kept Nick in my line of vision. I was still flustered. Everything from the surreal interview with Elena and the lurking presence of Mr. Jiménez, to the weird exchange between the grieving widow and my husband, to getting fired on the way out the door—all of it unsettled me.
“What do you want to eat, Taylor?” I asked.
“I want to go see Wilburn,” he insisted.
“Sure, but before we go see Wilburn, what food do you want?” Taylor had turned toward the barns and was shifting from foot to foot as he swung my arm and heaved toward the pigs. “If you don’t answer me, I’m getting you dirt and bugs, OK?”
“Noooooo, Mama. No dirt and bugs. I wanna see Wilburn.”
“You can, after you eat your dirt and bugs.” I looked around for Nick and saw him and the girls. Good.
Taylor started to giggle. “I’m not s’posed to eat dirt. Daddy said so. And bugs are yucky. I want rice and peas.”
There’s my little island boy. “Rice and peas? Are you sure? Because they have dirt and bugs if you want it.”
“I want rice and peas.”
“Oh, good. I thought it was weird that you wanted dirt and bugs,” I teased. Maybe I could keep his brain
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