Page 2 of Be A Detective, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said

Her death had been a tragedy, but the sacrifice she’d made so her son would be safe lived in my heart every day.

I smiled at him, that warm feeling each time I saw him settling in my belly. “What’s up, Sunshine?”

He rolled his eight-year-old eyes and whispered, “Don’t call me that in front of everyone, Mom. It makes me sound like a baby.”

I bent at the waist, still in disbelief that we were already at the stage where I embarrassed him. With a salute, I said, “Aye-Aye, Captain. What can I do ya for, matey?”

He giggled, reminding me there was still some little boy in there somewhere. “The cupcakes are with the scones. They shouldn’t be with the pastries because they’re sweet, not savory. Mrs. Lincoln would have a fit if she could see.”

Marty, who’d been busy arranging the cookies for me, threw her hand over her forehead in dramatic fashion. “Oh no! The horror! How will we ever keep the sweet from infecting the savory?” she teased on a giggle, winking at him.

Sam held up a hand, his face somber. “This is one of those lessons in lightening up, isn’t it, Aunt Marty?”

She wagged a finger at him with a playfully admonishing expression, her blue eyes dancing. “Oh no, mister, I don’t teach lessons. Nuh-uh. I bring sweet treats and play Nintendo. I’m the fun aunt, remember?”

Nina scoffed at that, scruffing Sam’s hair with her palm. “As if. Tell Auntie Marty who the fun aunt really is.”

Now Sam really laughed, a deep, hearty chuckle, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. He doesn’t need glasses, by the by. My Sam just thinks they make him look more like a bioengineer than a silly eight-year-old, and above all else, he doesn’t want to look silly.

He shook his dark head at Nina, readjusting his school uniform jacket. “Nope. You’re not going to make me choose between you. That can lead to resentment and jealousy I want no part of. It’s messy business.”

I couldn’t keep a straight face. I burst out in full-on laughter. Honestly, I don’t know where he comes up with this stuff, but he loves to learn and loves to read.

We, of course, monitor his intake of all media, social and otherwise, but his most recent checkup probably won’t be the last time I catch him reading a Psychology Now magazine at the doctor’s office.

Nina and Marty gathered him up in a hug. “We’d never make you choose between us, buddy,” Nina said. “Now show me where the offensive sweet is with the savory and I’ll make the bad cupcakes go away.”

Sam hugged them both hard. While my son was a somber, serious little fellow, he was also quite affectionate and he loved his aunties. “Thanks, Aunt Nina.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her to where the offense was occurring.

I gave Marty an impulsive hug as the crowd in the gymnasium grew and people poured into the space. “Thank you for coming to help out. I don’t know what I would have done if Nina hadn’t taken the reins and quieted all those hysterical PTA members.”

Marty laughed, hugging me back, the scent of her pear and cucumber perfume sweet in my nose. “She does have a way with her penchant for violence, doesn’t she? It almost always works. I’ve never seen so many women fall in line so quickly. In fear, mind you, but fall they did.”

I grinned. My Nina, she was a blessing and a curse, but she was our blessing. “She definitely got the job done, and I couldn’t have done this if you hadn’t taken over the organization of the tables and helped get the credit card scanner working. I’m pathetic when it comes to technology.”

Marty flapped a hand at me, her long blonde hair gleaming in the winter sunlight pouring into the gym. “No worries. Now where is Neerie, who’s supposed to be running the show? She’s fae, right?”

That Neerie was. A petite little pixie of a fairy with a gamine face, shiny sandy-blonde hair and pointed ears. She always wore the most adorable clothes, whatever happened to be the height of fashion, and she was a total terror.

I nodded. “She is. Though that doesn’t explain why she didn’t show up for her duties as president of the PTA.”

Marty shrugged, rearranging a plate of donuts. I watched her struggle not to snatch one because she was watching her weight—which was ridiculous. Her weight was perfect. “Maybe she just didn’t feel like coming today. Fae can be persnickety, remember? Depends on her breed. If we learned anything, we learned that much from our journey with Prim.”

That was a fact. Primrose was one of our more recent clients from OOPS, now a dear member of our extended framily. We’d learned exactly how persnickety some fae could be during that case, and while I wasn’t sure what breed of fae Neerie was, persnickety was a hyphen on her name.

Still, I wasn’t so sure, finnicky or not, she’d miss the chance to show us all who was the queen bee of the school for the paranormal and gifted. Neerie loved wielding her power and lording over our heads all the hard work and dedication she put into the PTA.

I don’t like to speak ill of the missing-in-action, but only death could keep Neerie from an event for the PTA.

“Neerie is nothing if not difficult, but this isn’t like her at all, Marty. She doesn’t give a hoot how much gossip surrounds her Gestapo-like tactics or how much the other mothers resent her for playing high and mighty, her mission is to rule the school. She’d be here even if someone cropped her head off. She’d simply grow another one. Nothing would stop her from being here, especially because it’s such an important event.”

Marty looked at me, confused. “It’s a bake sale, Wanda. Not a sale on directions to the fountain of youth.”

I snickered at my friend as I looked around at the gym, now full to capacity with a variety of very large paranormals. “While that’s true, as you can see from the crowd we’ve drawn, it’s a big part of what helps pay for the winter carnival. Never underestimate the appetite of werewolves and ogres. They know how to pack it away and they’re willing to pay a hefty price for it.”

Marty crossed her arms over her shrug denim jacket. “Huh. Then maybe she had a late night out with a new man?”

I scoffed again. “I don’t care if aliens invaded earth. And believe me, Neerie isn’t only a control freak, she’s a conspiracy theory nut, too, but even little green men wouldn’t have kept her from this bake sale, Marty.”

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