The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas #7)(62)

As Temple set off for Lucy’s bedroom, Panda headed for the porch. Lucy was feeling a little sick from everything she’d eaten, and she rubbed her stomach.

“Bastard!” Temple screeched.

Uh-oh. The sound had come from the bedroom. Lucy stuck her head out the back door. Panda wasn’t on the porch. She craned her neck toward the open deck on the other side of the screen. Sure enough, the slider door into her bedroom was open.

It was time to make herself invisible.

“Lucy!”

At the sound of Panda’s ominous roar, she quickly reviewed her options. Escape by car or by water?

She chose escape by car, but before she could reach the front door, Panda was storming toward her through the living room with Temple at his heels. “Do you think this is a joke?” he exclaimed. “You deliberately sabotaged her. Don’t you get it? This woman’s career is at stake.”

“It really wasn’t well done of you, Lucy,” the Evil Queen said haughtily. “I thought you understood how much I need a supportive environment. Obviously, I can’t count on you to be there for me.” Lifting her head, she bounded up the steps.

Lucy stared at her, then opened her mouth to unload, but Panda’s hand shot up. “Not now. I’m way too pissed off at you.” He headed for the porch.

No way was she putting up with this. She stormed after him.

He’d already found the bread.

She stomped across the porch. “If you think for one minute—”

“Damn …” He said the word like a prayer. “It’s still warm.”

She stared at him as he lifted the first loaf from behind the plants. He took in the missing heel but didn’t seem upset about it … Or about anything, for that matter, including the smuggled muffin. “I don’t suppose you have a knife,” he said. “Oh, hell …” He ripped off a chunk and sank his teeth in. “Honest to God, Lucy …” He swallowed. “This is the best thing I’ve had to eat all week.”

“Never mind about that. I’m not going to let you—”

“We need to find a better hiding place.”

She splayed her hands on her hips. “Obviously not under my bathroom sink!”

“Maybe that desk in the den? Watch the door. Make sure she doesn’t change her mind and come back downstairs.” He took another bite. “And try not to let her get to you again.”

She threw up her hands. “You two deserve each other.” And then … “What did you do with the muffin?”

“Ate it in front of her like I told her I would. I had to stuff it in so fast I couldn’t even enjoy it.”

That would account for the smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth.

“You do know this diet she’s on is insane,” she said.

“I’m hoping she’ll figure that out, but until then I have a job to do.” He tore off a second chunk. “I’ll have to search you from now on.”

“Search me?”

“Nothing personal.”

Nothing personal, indeed!





Chapter Fourteen




I DON’T SEE WHY WE HAVE to go to church,” Toby said.

“Take it up with your best friend Big Mike.” Bree knew she sounded petty, but she couldn’t help herself. She slipped into her only remaining pair of heels, strappy bronze stilettos that would make her as tall as Mike. As a bonus, she could always use the heels to stab any serpents that might escape during the worship service.

For the past five days, she’d tried to come up with a way to get out of this, but Mike had backed her into a corner. As long as she was responsible for Toby, she couldn’t afford to have Mike blackball her in the community, something he was perfectly capable of doing. He was a big man outside, but inside, he was small and petty, and he had years of practice manipulating people to do what he wanted.

“We have to go to church because of the way you act so mean to Big Mike,” Toby said. “I’ll bet he thinks you’re going to hell.”

Already there.

Just then Mike’s red Cadillac pulled into the drive. She still couldn’t figure out the best way to warn Toby to keep his guard up. “Mike’s been nice to you,” she said tentatively, “but … sometimes people aren’t always exactly the way they seem.”

He shot her a look that branded her the dumbest person on earth and dashed out the door, the tail of his plaid shirt flapping. So much for good intentions.

She’d tucked her hair into a fashionably untidy bun to accompany one of the few dresses she hadn’t put up for consignment, a sleeveless caramel sheath she’d accessorized with costume hoop earrings. Her arms still felt bare without her bangles. She’d sold all her good jewelry months ago, along with her two-carat engagement ring. As for her wedding ring … The night Scott had left her, she’d driven to the club and thrown it in the pond by the eighteenth green.

Mike hopped out of the car to open the door for her. She handed him the computer laptop he’d given her. “Thank you,” she said stiffly, “but I’m sure you can find a better use for this.”

Toby clambered into the backseat. The interior smelled of good leather with only the faintest trace of Mike’s cologne. She cracked open a window anyway to get some air.