Page 6 of Be A Detective, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said

Chapter Three

“Well, fuck, Wanda,” Nina groaned. “What am I supposed to say when that hag of a winged monster has one of the cutest kids ever? Can’t we just offer to adopt her and leave Neerie the Narcissist wherever she is? The kid’d be better off with us and she’d have tons of playmates. Charlie’d love her and Olivia already does. She’d forget all about the nutjob who gave birth to her by the time we were done with her.”

We were in the murder basement, me trying to convince Marty and Nina to help me find Neerie, and it wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped.

Both of my BFFs were hesitant, for obvious reasons. They thought Neerie was off on some conspiracy theory jaunt and neglecting Tamlin for her own selfish pleasures.

But I wasn’t so sure. Neerie took pride in Tamlin, and when I’d witnessed her with her daughter, she was always attentive.

Marty shifted in her office chair. “I’d almost agree with you on this one, vampire. Tamlin is precious, and she’s the sweetest thing, and I have to wonder if she hasn’t been a victim of her mother’s kookiness, which worries me. Plus, Olivia does love her, and that works in our favor. But I think people would ask questions about us adopting her and that could get uncomfortable. So no can do,” she teased.

I nodded, even though I didn’t think adopting Tamlin was such a horrible idea…

Marty looked at me, her beautiful blue eyes full of sympathy. “I vote yes, but want it noted in her file, Neerie is a dreadful person and I don’t like her. I don’t like how she’s treated your generosity. I don’t like the way she orders the PTA moms around like she’s the head b-i-t-c-h in charge, and I really don’t like her muffins.”

I chuckled. Last year, out of the goodness of his heart and his love for my children, Arch had made blueberry muffins, too. He’d wanted to contribute to the success of his grandchildren’s cause. But if you listened to Neerie, she was the only one who made them correctly.

Oh, the fuss she’d made about where Arch had placed his muffins on the center table, without knowing that was where Neerie put her baked goods. I thought I’d never hear the end of it.

And Marty was right. Neerie’s muffins weren’t nearly as good as Arch’s.

This year, in preparation for a tantrum from Neerie, Arch made banana nut and gave them to me to put on the tables to avoid, as he said, “saying something he’d regret and embarrassing his grands.”

Looking at my BFFs, I gave them my puppy dog eyes. “Listen, you two, I have no love lost for Neerie. She’s mean and pushy and abrasive, but her daughter is darling. I realize I’m asking a lot, considering she’s been rude to both of you, but I can’t help thinking about Tamlin’s eyes today and how sad she was that her mother wasn’t in attendance.”

Nina made a face. “That was the product of brainwashing. Neerie’s brainwashed that sweet kid into believing she’s mother of the fucking year.”

I rolled my eyes at my friend. “Neerie has her faults, but she’s a good, conscientious mother, Nina. I think she keeps her cray in check when Tamlin’s around, but that’s beside the point. A little girl’s mother is missing…”

Nina threw her hands up in the air in clear defeat. Not that I doubted for a moment Nina would cave. She’d die before she’d let a child suffer a scratch, let alone the loss of her mother.

“Fine, I’m in. But I’m only doin’ it for you and the kid. Neerie can kiss my skinny ass, because I think what’s really happened is she’s run off with one of her conspiracy theory junkies. I bet we find her holed up with her tin foil hat and empty pizza boxes in some hotel in Jersey.”

“She calls herself an alternative thinker, FYI,” I said, repeating what Naida had told me.

“What the fuck ever. I’ll help you find the alternative thinker.”

Naida had sent me a list of the conspiracy groups Neerie was involved with online, with a note tacked on that read: If you thought I was worried about nothing, read some of the posts on the groups she’s a part of. Please, please help me. I can pay. I swear. If you say no, I won’t ask again, but I’m begging you…

Seeing some of those posts definitely left cause for concern, but I couldn’t see all of the comments because they were private and they had a vetting process to join.

If Naida could find out what Neerie’s Facebook password was, that would surely change the game.

I hopped up and rushed to Nina’s desk to give her a hug, wrapping my arms around her neck, inhaling the scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Thank you, Dark Lord. I love you. You’re my favorite BFF.”

Nina scoffed as she gave me a stiff hug before pushing me away from her in typical don’t-go-soft-on-me fashion. “Bullshit. You say that to Marty, too. Now where do we start? You want me to look into these Facebook groups she’s on until Naida can find out if she can get her hands on nutjob’s password?”

“How can we do that? You have to join those groups, and I’m pretty sure the way you troll the jerks online who women-bash on some of those reels you watch on Facebook, you won’t be able to resist creating some chaos with a flame war. You’ll get booted out before you can say ‘inbred halfwit’,” Marty said, quoting one of Nina’s favorite pet names for the men who had the courage of a keyboard and an Internet connection.

Nina simply grinned. “Listen, those incels deserve to be shot down by my sarcasm. Somebody has to call them out for talkin’ to women the way they do, knowing damn well they wouldn’t do it in real life because they’re pissy babies. The fuck I’m gonna let some keyboard cowboy think he can say dirty shit to a chick when she’s just baking a cake without getting his ass handed to him. If I see it, I’m gonna say somethin’, because I’m that bitch. It warms the cockles of my nonexistent heart to call ’em out.”

I went back to the chair at my desk and shook my head. “You do know your slam dunks to their egos won’t stop them, right? You’re only fueling the fire.”

Nina shrugged. “I don’t give a ripe shit what it fuels, Wanda. I just like poking them for being freaks, and I like doing it in big bold letters with their names attached. They might not stop, but you can bet they cringe when I call them basement dwellers with teeny-peeny’s, and that makes me smile and smile. I don’t go back to see if they answer me. I don’t care. I just like pissing in their Wheaties. But that’s neither here nor fucking there. Tottington can help. I already asked him to contact the dude who helped us with the last case to see if he could hack into Neerie the Nag’s social media accounts.”

Clapping my hands together, I cheered. “Oh, that’s brilliant! But wait…who do you suppose it is he’s contacting?”

Nina scrolled her phone, popping her lips. “I have a strict policy: Don’t ask, don’t tell. In other words, if it gets me what I need, I don’t fucking need to know how it happened, and neither do you.”

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