Loose Screw (Dusty Deals Mystery) by Lori Devoti, Rae Davies Page A

whatsoever.
    “Plus, we would get to work together again.” Gary reached out and brushed cappuccino foam off my upper lip with his thumb. “That could be fun.”
    He stared at his thumb for a moment, then, glancing at me, he licked it clean.
    I froze. “Fun,” I parroted.
    “Call him!” he said, dropped his paper cup into the trash and left.
    o0o
    A few minutes later, I was back in Dusty Deals—neither Gary’s promise of fun nor his advice that I “take advantage of Ted” forgotten.
    The first was tempting, the second not at all.
    Sure, knowing Ted needed me was good for my ego, but not so good that I wanted to work for him again—or do the job again. I’d barely survived the interaction I’d already had with Blake, and that was with me playing innocent witness. Someone he should have been motivated to be nice to.
    I said as much to Betty.
    She grunted.
    “What?” I knew that grunt. I didn’t like that grunt. Realizing I didn’t actually want an explanation for it, I made a move to scamper into my office.
    “You need to do it.”
    I stopped and prayed she would stop there. Of course, she didn’t.
    “Heaven knows, I’m no fan of Ted’s, but you left under bad circumstances.”
    I hadn’t. I’d quit, but Betty knew that. I turned, my mouth opening.
    She held up a hand. “You ran away.”
    My lips closed. Then they opened. Then they closed.
    As I stood there, doing my best imitation of a deranged goldfish, a customer walked up to the counter with box of antique marbles. I took advantage of Betty’s change of attention and hurried into my office.
    With the door closed, I sat down to pay some bills, but my mind kept going back to Betty and Ted.
    I hadn’t run away. I had quit. I hadn’t even been in the building at the time. I’d sent an email. Very casual—no running at all. Ted had just left on the first vacation I’d ever known him to take. So I’d emailed him. Very thoughtful, if you asked me.
    The phone rang. I stared at it. Betty could pick up in the front.
    It rang four more times. The radio went on in the main shop—the ag report, not an interest of Betty’s I’d been aware of. 
    Five more rings and I admitted defeat. I picked up the phone.
    “Did you watch Channel 4 this morning?” Ted wasn’t much for niceties.
    “I caught it.”
    “Then you know how bad we missed this one.”
    “There were a few facts missing.”
    “A few?” His voice raised to just below a roar. “You could’ve driven a herd of buffalo through the holes.” I could hear him shifting papers on his desk. “Here’s the deal. I need someone to cover this thing, and you’re already sitting right in the middle of this story. It’s right up your alley.” He chuckled. “No pun intended.”
    “What about Marcy?”
    He snorted.
    A brave me would have quoted my last performance review...  “But I’m a ‘wuss,’” or “I’d ‘pee myself before I asked a hard question,’” or maybe “There are ‘girl scouts with bigger balls’ than me.”
    But I didn’t. I stared at my desktop and tried to think of a polite way out of this.
    There wasn’t one. I was either going to have to agree to do the job or tell Ted no.
    Ted didn’t give me time to do either.
    “You can start today. I’ll pay you double my normal stringer rate.”
    Double nothing was... let’s see ... I did some quick calculations in my head... nothing .
    He spent another five minutes or so spitting out details on pay, deadlines, and equipment. “And Marcy will help. Between the two of you, surely you can come up with something that won’t embarrass us.”
    I stared at a spot on the wall in front of me until my eyes crossed.
     When I was pretty sure my mother was right, and they would get stuck that way, he blasted one final order. “Article. Five.” Then he hung up.
    I dropped the receiver onto the cradle and tore a page off my cartoon “quote of the day” calendar. I’ve developed a new philosophy…I only dread one day at a