Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(58)

Several oohs and ahhs went up from the over-seventy crowd.

“But she is a pet psychic?”

“Well, yes dear. She has birds. A whole aviary of them. She used to have them deliver messages, but now with everyone having cell phones and e-mail, she rents them out for weddings and such.”

“She rents out pigeons,” Emerson said, reaching for another strawberry. “Not doves. And the pigeons crap all over the guests. I went to a wedding last year up valley and it was like Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, only instead of blood, there was poop.”

Great. “But she talks to her birds?”

“No, dear, her dead lovers haunt her, scratching at her windows and hooting at all hours of the night.” Peggy looked at Shay as though she were the slow one. “And who talks to birds?”

“Sonya Fitzpatrick,” Shay said. “The pet psychic on Animal Planet. It sounds like June is a psychic who has pets—that’s not the same thing at all. You know what? Never mind. Who is the third judge?”

Peggy smiled. “You. As the best pet stylist this town has ever seen. We all think you should be the final judge for the walk.”

Well, if that didn’t make her all warm inside.

“I’d love to, but I don’t know if I’d be the best person. A good portion of the contestants will most likely be St. Paws’ former fosters and I really want to enter Jabba and Socks, but I can’t if I’m judging. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“They’ll find homes no matter what,” Ida said confidently. “And with a five-hundred-dollar St. Helena gift card for first place, we need a good judge.”

“We’re giving away five hundred dollars?” Shay asked, looking at the crowded bar and wondering if she was supposed to come up with the money.

“It was all donated by local shops.” Ida smiled. “And that’s just for first prize. We have several smaller prizes for runner-up.”

Shay was stunned and completely touched that local shops had donated that kind of money to her cause. That warm feeling expanded to fill her chest.

“Great work, ladies. Moving on to the next topic on the agenda,” Harper said, gaining control of the room again.

“There’s an agenda?” Shay whispered. Emerson sent her best welcome to it smile.

“Since Clovis can’t be here today,” Harper started, “I told her I would bring up her boa idea.”

Harper went on about boas, colors, and themes, and Shay leaned in to grab a strawberry and asked Emerson, “Where is Clovis?”

“She’s at the hospital with Giles.”

Shay’s hand stopped midway to her mouth. “Giles is in the hospital?”

“Yeah, he went missing yesterday, but they didn’t find him until early this morning. Nearly every first responder and volunteer turned out for the search.” Emerson paused to study Shay with disbelief. “How have you not heard about this?”

Shay put a hand to her forehead and admitted, “I was with Jonah all night.”

Emerson’s expression was one of surprise and pride. “Wow, you go, cat lady.” Then she stopped and her smile faded and she gave a low whistle. “Oh boy, so if Jonah was with you, then—”

“He wasn’t out doing his job.” And his uncle was hurt. Not that Jonah could have prevented Giles from wandering around town, but he wouldn’t see it that way. Jonah was such a protector, the mere thought of what he must be feeling made her throat tighten. “I gotta go. Tell Harper thanks for everything and I’ll call her later.”



“You understand that you are admitting to an officer of the law to peeping on Ms. Owens?”

“Are you hard of hearing, son?” Giles asked, spooning in another mouthful of Jell-O. “I went to Clovis’s place to peek over her fence. Heard she goes in her hot tub after hours.”

Jonah leaned in and lowered his voice so only Giles could hear. “A Peeping Tom charge carries a thousand-dollar fine and possible jail time in this state.”

“It’s not a crime when everyone involved is privy to it,” Giles bristled, then lowered his voice and waggled a bushy brow. “It’s called foreplay, son.”

Jonah looked at Clovis, who was sitting in the chair next to the bed, her hands folded in her lap, her frown so big it nearly detracted from the strapless corset she was trying to pass off as a top. He turned back to his uncle. “What about Celeste?”

Giles made billowing gestures to his chest. “They didn’t move, not even when the current in the water picked up. That’s not natural. And the girl thinks bocce is an island in the South Pacific, and she doesn’t eat meat or sugar. What kind of woman doesn’t eat sugar?”

Now things were making sense. “I take it you got Clovis’s cake?”

“Lemon-iced fig, my favorite. Set it on my doorstep with a note that said, ‘There’s arsenic in the frosting. Enjoy.’ So I enjoyed me a slice, then went off to return the favor.”

“By peeping?”

Giles snapped his fingers. “Now you’re catching on. After a decade of circling, I’m closing in. Maybe it’s the real deal you hear about in books, or maybe she’ll wind up killing me. Either way I’ll die smiling. Now, watch and learn.” Giles cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Heard she goes in the hot tub nekkid too. Now, write that down and see when the doctor will let me go home.”