Page 10 of Love Expert

“Detective Caster!” Barbara’s entire body rolls with her hurried steps. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

Not happening, woman! No fuckin’ chance.

“Let’s go.” I swing Jeremy’s door shut and paste on a standard, friendly smile saved for strangers in the street. I wave for Barbara and whip my door open. “Good day to you, Barbara.”

“Wait, I wanted to talk to you about?—”

“Yes, I had a great day. Thank you! I hope yours is great, too.”

I slide into my seat and eye my giggling son through the rearview mirror. “Zip it, big ears.”

“You’re so silly.” He pastes on the patented Caster fake-ass smile and waves to the woman still rushing this way. “Did you know Mrs. Sava was Maggie’s grandma? She told me so when I was visiting.”

Visiting. Trespassing. Causing trouble.

“Mmhm. I knew that.”

“Her grandma died. And my mom died.” He waves, veryqueen-of-Englandstyle, and grins. “I just thought maybe she’d like birthday cake if we were already making some.”

Her dad died too, buddy. At the same age you are now.

Still don’t think inviting her over for cake is a sensible choice, though.

“Maybe another time. Now we’ve gotta lay rubber before Barb flips herself onto the hood and tries to stop us.”

“Put the sirens on,” he cackles. “Pretend we’re chasing bad guys again.”

ROUND FIVE

MAGGIE

I step outside on Tuesday morning with my keys in one hand and my phone in the other. Locking up, I peer left and study the side of Billy’s home, like I do almost every single time I come out here now, then I shift my gaze to the neglected garden bed separating our yards. It spans the length of our properties and butts up against Billy’s lush grass, which he would’ve, in the past, benefited from the beautiful blooms my grandmother tended without having to do any of the work.

Now, what was once a stunning parade of color is just crunchy sticks, rotting leaves, and grass growing through the barrier.

I make a mental note to set a little time aside to come out and tidy the space up, but beyond pulling weeds and reinforcing the border, there’s not much I can do until I secure my first in-town event and, more importantly, an infusion of cash.

Turning on my heels and skipping down the porch steps, I cross my yard and slide into my car, and five minutes after starting the engine, I come to a stop on Main Street. Nostalgia settles on my shoulders, long-ago memories tickling the back of my mind. Not much has changed over the years; the bank is still the bank, and the drugstore is still the drugstore. There are no more or less parking spaces than there were in my childhood, and the horse—the kind you slip a dollar into so a kid can have two minutes of ride time—still sits outside the pharmacy, exactly where it sat twenty-five years ago.

A soft breeze trails along the street and whips my hair forward, so I shut my car door and tuck the locks behind my ear, then I move onto the sidewalk with a plan.

Step one: find the social hub of this town and hope for the best.

I spy Mrs. Middler’s bookstore near the corner and narrow my eyes in thought, because Iknowthat place used to be calledBooks Books Books.However, according to the shiny signage out front,Books Books Booksis no more. Still, the inside bustles with little old ladies and loud chatter.

So, I turn that way.

I swing the heavy glass door open and step into a long room bubbling with noise and conversation, but the instant my presence is noticed, the horde of women freeze and dozens of eyes warm my face. Conversations fracture, coffee cups still, and, I swear, the thunder of my heart becomes audible for everyone to hear.

“Maggie Sava?” An older woman in floral print sets her book on a small communal coffee table and rises from herleader-of-the-free-worldsofa. I wrack my memories for familiarity, for a name, since she obviously knows mine, but it’s been too long, and the last time I was in Plainview, I was only eight years old. “Oh my goodness, I heard you were back in town. I was so hopeful I’d run into you at some point.” She comes around the table faster than I’d expect of spindly legs. Her hair is gray, her lips, bright red, and her teeth… a little smudged. “It’s Barbara, honey.” The instant she’s close enough, she takes my hand and yanks me in for a cheek kiss. “You look like your grandmother, don’t you?” She inches back, but maintains her tight grip on my arm. “Same eyes and everything.”

“Uh…”

“Maggie?!”

I sling my gaze to the right, to a friendly blue stare and a smile even wider than Barbara’s.

“Shut the hell up! Is that really you?” The woman’s blonde hair whips back as she dashes around her counter in tight blue jeans and with a baby literally strapped to her chest. She latches on and tugs me free of Barbara’s grip, shooting a sneaky wink my way as she drags me toward the counter, much to Barbara’s muttered displeasure. “They’ve been plotting for a week,” she whispers slyly. “Literally planning to knock on your front door this afternoon, since it was clear you weren’t coming out to play.”