Thirty-Two and a Half Complications Page 64


“Yeah, but I like having him there. I’ll miss him too much if he leaves, especially with his busy schedule. I don’t want him to move out.”

“So tell him you want him to stay.”

“Yeah…” Although I’d felt this way before Joe and the baby, I still worried that asking him to stay would come across to him as reactive.

Neely Kate pulled into the gravel parking lot of a ramshackle old house that looked like it was about to cave in. It had once been painted white, but what little paint hadn’t flaked off was now a drab gray. A lopsided sign hung on the roof boasted the faded words Big Bill’s Barbeque. I’d driven by Big Bill’s plenty of times, and one of my male coworkers used to bring their hot wings for potlucks when I worked at the DMV, but I’d never actually been there. Now I was having second thoughts.

Neely Kate laughed. “I know it looks scary, but it’s worth riskin’ your life for, I promise.”

“Maybe I should force a vision and make sure we’ll survive our lunch,” I joked.

Her eyes lit up. “That’s a good idea.”

I shook my head. “If you’re really that concerned about your stomach, maybe we should skip this…”

“Not for that, silly. For the case.” She turned to me, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve said it before—you don’t use your gift nearly enough. Think of all the things you could figure out. We could figure out.”

“And blurt out. Don’t forget that part. That’s what got me into trouble with those guys.”

“Well, let’s get our wings and figure out which guy was the object of your vision while we eat.”

After our bathroom encounter at the church, I wasn’t sure wings were the best choice, but I wasn’t about to contradict Neely Kate.

We walked into the main room, which was crowded with about fifteen mismatched tables covered in red-and-white-checkered plastic tablecloths. Almost all of them were occupied. The baseboards were coated in grime, and greasy spots coated the tops of the walls. The entire restaurant looked like it needed a good scrubbing, but from the way the ceiling sagged slightly in the middle, I had to wonder if dirt was the only thing holding the place together.

“You do know this place violates a ton of health codes, don’t you?” I whispered into Neely Kate’s ear. “How do they not get shut down?”

“They pay off the inspector, of course.” She waved a hand. “Not to worry. Whatever germs came in here have no chance of surviving contact with the hot sauce Bill puts on his wings.”

“That’s not all that reassuring.”

She shook her head like I was simple-minded. “Don’t be such a worrywart. My grandma’s been eatin’ these things for years and it hasn’t killed her yet.”

“Not for lack of tryin’,” I said, eyeing the menu board. “How many times has your grandma been to the emergency room after eatin’ Bill’s wings?”

Neely Kate waved off my statement. “That doesn’t count. She’s got an ulcer.”

“And she still eats here?”

“Some things are worth the pain.”

Before I could give her statement more thought, the person in front of us moved forward and it was our turn to order. I put in a large order of mixed wings, planning on taking most of them home to Mason. After I placed my order, I pulled out my wallet and handed my debit card to the older man at the cash register.

He handed it back, curling his lip in disgust. “We don’t take that here.”

Who didn’t take Visa? “But I don’t have a MasterCard.”

His eyes narrowed into a glare. “Cash only.”

Grumbling, I dug through my purse to find enough loose change to pay. After Neely Kate placed her order, we stood to the side with a good twenty other people waiting for their food.

“I can’t believe this place doesn’t take debit cards. You’d think they’d lose business by being cash only.”

She shrugged. “They’ve always done it this way. It’s what people expect. And look at this place.” She waved at the crowded dining room and the line that was steadily swelling. “They’re definitely not hurting.”

The temperature was in the fifties and the sun was out, so we went outside and sat on a wooden picnic table. Plus, despite Neely Kate’s protestations to the contrary, I expected the ceiling to cave in at any moment.

I ate two mild wings before closing the container to save the rest for Mason. I leaned my head back and sucked in several deep breaths, trying to get my stomach to settle. “I should have just stuck with Texas toast.”

“Why don’t you just take the test already?” she asked.

I shook my head, not wanting to explain myself. Propping my chin on my hand, I said, “Now let’s try and figure out whose vision I experienced.”

“Okay.” She watched me for a moment. “Where were you?”

“It was nighttime and I was in a dark room. There was a window divided into panes and the bottom one was cracked in an upside-down Y. There was a light shining in the window, but I’m not sure what the source could have been.”

“Okay, what else? Did you smell anything distinctive?”

I hadn’t actually thought about it much, so I searched my memory for the answer. “Yes,” I said after a moment, “the room was stuffy and smelled… kind of like rust and something earthy.” A strange feeling of déjà vu tickled the back of my head, and then it hit me like an anvil. “Wait. Mick—the robber—he smelled of rust and dirt. And he was in the room in my vision.”

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