Page 62 of Joker in the Pack

“That’s not nothing.”

The shakes set in, and I willed myself to grow a backbone. It didn’t work.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

“Let’s talk about this inside.”

Nye picked up my bike with one hand and took my arm with the other, then led me to the front door. Guess I didn’t get a choice in the matter. He stood close while I fumbled through my pockets for the key, but when I couldn’t fit it into the lock, he made no effort to help, just watched as I demonstrated my remarkable lack of coordination. Finally, we got inside.

“Better go to the kitchen. I don’t have anywhere else to sit.” In all the stuff Aunt Ellie had bought, chairs were sorely lacking. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Milk, no sugar.”

I fussed about, trying to keep my hands busy so Nye didn’t see how much they were trembling. Teabag into cup, add milk, spill the sugar—dammit—wipe the mess up, add two spoonfuls to my own mug, add water, stir.

Nye watched me, silent, his eyes missing nothing. My skin prickled under his scrutiny, but I had nowhere else to go. The kitchen had never felt small until he sat in it. It wasn’t just his physical size that filled it, although he was big. Rather, he dwarfed the room with his presence.

So this was how it felt to be stuck in a cage with a lion.

“Want to tell me what’s been going on?” he asked.

Not really, but his question wasn’t so much a question as an order.

“I’d only been living here for a few weeks when somebody broke in for the first time.”

“Did they steal much?”

“I don’t think they took anything, but there’s so much junk here, I couldn’t be sure. They just made a huge mess—broke things, strewed stuff around, emptied every bottle they could find, and smashed all the jars.”

“That sounds more like kids than a career criminal.”

“Which is what the police said, but there aren’t many kids in the village. It’s mostly retirees and commuters.”

“What else? The message from Soph made it sound like a crazed mob was trying to kill you.”

“Someone threw a brick through my living room window. I didn’t know why at the time, but the next time they broke in, they left me a message.”

“What kind of message?”

“It’s probably best if you see for yourself.”

I headed to the lounge for the first time since the night those words were written. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Seeing the hate again brought all the horror back, and tea sloshed out of my mug as I stumbled. At least the stain wouldn’t show on Aunt Ellie’s ugly carpet.

“Easy, it’s okay.”

Nye took the mug from me gently and set it down on the coffee table. I was about to remind him to use a coaster when I saw all the other cup rings and decided against it.

He turned back to the wall. “Have you knowingly upset anybody since you’ve been here?”

“Everyone, it seems. Someone started rumours about me and they spread more quickly than pictures of Kim Kardashian’s naked bottom. The village information network could give a bush fire a run for its money.”

“What kind of rumours?”

“That I’m a gold-digger. That I only moved here to snag myself a rich man and take all his money.”

“And is that true? Be honest with me.”

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