Worst Laid Plans (A Maddox Storm Mystery Book 1) by Claire Robyns Page B

Little,” Jenna said. “That popped up first thing this morning.”
    The post in question was a one-liner designed to grab you by the short and curlies. It was also an outright lie.
    Maddox Storm buys Hollow House.
    “Well, this explains Lily’s source,” I said. And Jenna’s. I’d assumed Mr Hollow had told her this morning, but nothing pinned a source more accurately than quoting misinformation. “Mr Hollow’s going to pop an artery. I really hope he doesn’t think I’m going around telling everyone I bought his family mansion.”
    “You could leave an indignant comment,” suggested Jenna.
    Tempting as it was, I was no fool. “I’ll put my mom on the case. She’s better equipped to take on Miss Crawley. There should be a law against spreading utter nonsense on the internet.”
    “Maybe there is.” Jenna fluttered her lashes at me. “You should definitely call that dreamy detective and ask.”
    I just looked at her.
    “Too soon?”
    “To be planning my next wedding?” I selected a double chocolate fudge cupcake and licked at the frosting. “I need a touch longer to put myself back together.”
    Jenna hesitated, then spoke her mind. “Except…you haven’t fallen apart. You didn’t even phone to talk when it happened.”
    “I’m sorry, I wasn’t keeping you out—”
    “Don’t be sorry,” she cut in softly. “You do whatever you need to do and I’ll be here, always. I’m glad you haven’t fallen apart, but I’m also kind of worried that you haven’t, that’s all.”
    “If I do, you’ll be the first to know about it,” I told her. “But don’t get out the brush and dustpan yet, I’m perfectly fine.”
     
    ∞∞∞
     
    My mother took up the rest of my day. She labored under the mistaken impression that I’d give up this silly business with Hollow House now, because who would want to stay where someone had just given up the ghost?
    In an ideal world, no one.
    But I was on a tight budget and to be totally honest, I was scared of moving back home. As much as I moaned and groaned about my parents, Dad was my rock and Mom was my safety net. If I moved into my old bedroom upstairs, I might never leave again. I’d gotten my first look at the world out there and it was big, bad and nasty.
    Thankfully, I had a good cause to divert Mom’s focus. “Do you read Miss Crawley’s Blotter ?”
    “Every Sunday morning, honey,” Mom said, smiling at me over the lasagna she’d just finished layering. “I’m subscribed to her weekly digest edition. Why?”
    My mind boggled at the stream-lined efficiency Miss Crawley had introduced into the Silver Firs gossip grinder. “She’s got her facts wrong about me and Hollow House and it would be great if you could set her straight.”
    “She has, has she?” Mom looked delighted. She drizzled cheese and carried the baking dish to the oven. “I’ll have a word with her on Monday. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she issues a retraction.”
    “Is Miss Crawley out of town?”
    “Not that I’m aware of.”
    “Then why wait till Monday?” I said, confused. “I’d rather it was sorted before that digest goes out to the masses on Sunday.”
    “It’s just…” Mom turned from the oven, faltering at my perplexed gaze.
    “Just what?” I prompted.
    “Well, you know I like to pop in at Betty’s for tea after church?”
    Betty was Mom’s long-time friend and my godmother. I loved her to bits, but any explanation that started with ‘Mom and Betty’ generally didn’t end well.
    “And?” I capped my bottle of water and went to put the kettle on the stove for coffee. I was going to need something stronger for this conversation.
    “We read the digest together,” said Mom, “and pick out everything Miss Crawley miscalculated during the week.”
    I read between the lines and blurted, “You keep score of Miss Crawley’s blunders so you can rub her face in it, and that’s more important than the trouble her lies are causing me?”
    “It’s