She glanced at it and turned it over. “This isn’t your card.”

I rested my hands on the small shelf near the conveyer belt, wondering why I hadn’t just slid the card through the card reader. “It’s okay. It’s my boyfriend’s.”

“But it’s not yours.”

“Well, no. But he gave it to me to use.”

She looked over her register toward the fracas behind me. “Ed.”

But Ed was too busy tripping over boxes and dealing with the irate mother to hear her.

“Ed!” she shouted, and when she got his attention, she continued. “We got a case of identity theft at register four.”

“What?” I gasped.

The mother looked up at me like I was one of the horsemen of the apocalypse.

Bennie’s eyes widened like saucers. “You’re a thief, Miss Rose?”

“What? No!” I turned to the cashier. “I didn’t steal his identity. If you’ll just call Mason, he’ll tell you it’s okay.”

Miss Mildred gave me a smug grin. “I knew you were wicked since you were little. It was only a matter of time before you were put away in prison.”

“I didn’t steal Mason’s identity!”

The cashier’s frown deepened and it was a wonder she hadn’t set permanent lines in her face. “You can tell it to the Henryetta Police.”

Crappy doodles.

Chapter Six

By employing a few evasive tactics, I managed to text Mason to tell him I’d used his card at the Piggly Wiggly and was in a heap of trouble.

The store manager, the cashier, poor confused Bennie, and Miss Mildred had formed a loose circle around me, as if corralling a dangerous criminal, by the time Officer Ernie arrived. The police officer slid through the automatic door as it was opening, only the door moved too slow and his shoulder got caught in the edge. He lowered his sunglasses and glared at the door as though it were a punk kid who’d pulled a prank on him. Then he turned, settled his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose, and strutted toward us.

Somebody had watched too many cop shows.

He stopped several feet away from me, his thumbs hooked on his belt, a cocky grin on his face. He was Henryetta’s own version of Barney Fife and he played it to the hilt, whether he realized it or not. “Well, well, well. Look who’s causing trouble again.”

I put my hands on my hips and said, for what had to be the hundredth time, “I didn’t do anything wrong. If you would just call Mason, we could get this all sorted out.”

Officer Ernie gave me a satisfied smirk. “We’ll sort it out down at the station.”

Miss Mildred was fit to be tied since I was still blocking the checkout lane. “Some of us don’t have all day to deal with your shenanigans. Just haul her off to jail and be done with it.”

I turned to face her, my anger nearing the boiling point. “Then why didn’t you move over to lane four like the manager told you to do?”

She shot me a scowl. “My stuff’s already on the belt.”

I was about to scoop her three bottles of Metamucil into her cart when everyone turned toward the doors. I whipped around to see Mason walk through them, already giving Officer Ernie an irritated look. “What in Sam Hill is goin’ on here?” His annoyance came through loud and clear.

The policeman gave him a haughty look. “Rose Gardner has committed identity theft.”

“And whose identity did she allegedly steal?” Mason asked in disbelief.

Ernie looked stymied by the request, so he turned toward the cashier and store manager. The cashier picked up the confiscated card. “Mason Deveraux.”

“And do you have any idea who Mason Deveraux is?” my irritated boyfriend asked.

Some of the manager’s arrogance faded. “Why you, of course. The assistant district attorney.”

“That’s right,” he said. “And given the uncanny efficiency of the Henryetta gossip mill, everyone in town knows I’m living with Rose. Hell, Ed,” he said to the manager, his voice getting tighter. “I’ve been trying to convince you to lift her ban from the store for the past month. I’ve made it no secret that she’s my girlfriend.”

“Yes, but…” the manager stuttered. “She was using a card that wasn’t hers.”

“She was using my card!” he boomed. He paused for a second, taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “I am a very busy man. I don’t have time to run down to the damn grocery store for such nonsense. Next time I’d appreciate it if you’d call me rather than interrupt my schedule.” He took my hand. “On second thought, never mind. We won’t be shopping here anymore.”

I looked back at a shocked Miss Mildred as Mason pulled me out of the store. Bennie was watching me with disappointment in his eyes. Did he think I’d actually stolen the card? Somehow that was the worst part of this whole ridiculous situation.

Mason marched out of the store, his hand wrapped around mine, and I trailed behind. He didn’t stop or release my hand until he reached his car.

I hated to ask, but it needed to be said. “What about the groceries?”

“Leave them,” he barked.

I felt flabbergasted. What he’d said inside was right. He was too busy to be dealing with nonsense, and I was usually the cause of all his predicaments. “Mason, I’m so sorry.”

He released a breath, the anger in his eyes softening. “Don’t be sorry. This is my fault.”