Page 21 of A Little Naughty

I grin, standing a little straighter. “I have an even better idea. A Mardi Gras gala to benefit the paper!”

Piper’s brow furrows, and she twists her lips. “I’m intrigued. Go on…”

“Okay!” Clearing my throat, I try to think of what all I know about Eureka from my last visit. “We could have it at the distillery, in the place where the wedding reception was?” She nods, and I tap my forehead. “If I’m remembering right, doesn’t it have big doors we can open to expand the space? We could decorate the trees with beads and lights, do the catering and drinks there. For tickets, we could charge… two hundred… one fifty…” I’m watching her nose wrinkle as I bring down the ticket prices. “How about one hundred for a base ticket that doesn’t include drinks, and they could add drinks from there. Maybe one-fifty for well brands and two hundred for premium spirits?”

“I like it. We can talk to Alex about renting the place, and I’m sure he’d be glad to help with the alcohol. Your sister is amazing when it comes to party planning. You should’ve seen Aiden and Britt’s wedding.”

“I saw Alex and Cass’s wedding, and I thought you did a great job! The MC at the reception was hilarious. We should get him again.”

“Drunk Guy? Turns out he wasn’t even with the band! He was some leftover from Britt’s old guest list. One of Gwen’s friends from the circuit.”

“Like a magician?” Laughing, I press my hands to my cheeks. “That makes so much sense now. I definitely want him back, and maybe we can find a Cajun band somewhere close—or at least a band that knows the Mardi Gras standards.”

“I’ll text the girls, and we can meet up for a planning session tomorrow. I know Britt will want a break from the baby, and we all want to hear what happened when you went back to Branson.”

“You just want to know about Nikki.” I scoop my purse off the counter. “Let me see if I can change my interview with Raif Jones to tonight after work…”

“You’re not?—”

“I’m not going to his house, if that’s what you were about to say.” I take the keys to her old truck off the hook by the door. “Although with the way you and Adam keep acting, I’m very curious.”

“Adam?”

“He offered to drive me to their house. Don’t worry, Raif has agreed to come here after he finishes at your mom’s.” My phone buzzes, and my chest jumps. “Today!”

“Is he still over there?” Her lips press into a frown, but I only wave her away. “I’m going to chat with our new vet. I’ll bring back a coffee.”

“Decaf!”

Hopping into her old truck, I place my hat on the passenger seat across from me and switch on the radio. This thing is so old, it only has a radio, which means I only have one choice—country!

To my surprise, “Tim McGraw” by Taylor Swift is on, so naturally, I belt the lyrics along with her as I turn onto Beach Road heading to Seamist, where Dr. Anderson’s office is located.

I vaguely remember Adam saying it was “conveniently located” in the direct center of the county. Something to add to my notes.

The song has ended when I turn into a beige strip mall and park in front of Sunshine Pet Care. Another note.

Two cars are in the lot, and when I push through the glass doors, the loud squawk of a parrot echoes right beside my face.

“Holy shit!” I yelp without thinking, then my eyes widen when I see a frowning lady in a large platinum wig scowling at me. “I’m so sorry! Your bird startled me.”

“You’re Jemima Dixon.” The lady stares at me with eyes as focused as her bird’s.

“Aunt Terra, don’t harass Jemima!” A girl about my age walks up and holds out her hand. “Hey, there. We haven’t really met properly. I’m Julia Belle. This is my aunt Terra and her Parrot, Pat. He’s got the dirtiest mouth, so don’t even worry about it.”

“Fuck off!” the parrot rasps as if on cue, and I snort.

“Thank goodness for that. I’m starting a swear jar at home.” I smile, putting on my best Eureka-friendly face. “Julia… I’ve heard your name. Do you have a little girl?”

“Crimson.” She nods, returning my smile. “Pinky’s her best friend.”

“Yes! My sister has mentioned her. It’s nice to meet you properly. And you as well.” I lean around to where her aunt is ignoring us. “I have a friend who will appreciate your aesthetic.”

The woman’s eyes narrow, and I’m back in her suspicious line of sight. “How do you feel about pickles, young lady?”

For a whole half-second, I’m lost, then I remember. “Oh! I’m a big fan. Huge. Are youtheTerra Belle of Terra Belle’s Pickle Patch?”

“I am.” Her shoulders straighten, and I know I’m on the right track.

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