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CHAPTER ONE
Honey
I’m not a con artist anymore, and I’m not going to con anyone today. I’m just going to ask for a favor. If I have to use some of my skills of persuasion, that’s not the same thing as conning someone.
My gut twists, calling me out as a liar. Anything that uses my old skills feels wrong these days. Even if I’m doing it for the best of reasons.
The small cottage in front of me, surrounded by forest on all sides, with a narrow gravel drive and one lone SUV parked in front, is silent and still. Even the two ceramic gnomes, both with red hats, blue shirts, and smiling sweetly, on the front stoop seem to hold their non-existent breath.
It looks exactly like the sort of place a person who likes to dress as Bigfoot would choose. There’s a gingerbread, fairy tale feel to it, with ivy growing up the side and a stone exterior. It could have been built in the nineteen thirties or two weeks ago.
It’s got a timelessness about it that makes it hard to place.
The blinds are up, giving me a clear view inside, but there’s no sign of movement. If Bigfoot is home, they’re probably watching TV or doom scrolling on their phone.
Maybe they’re bored and will want to help me out of the goodness of their heart. Maybe I won’t even have to flatter and persuade them.
I have no idea what to think of someone who enjoys dressing up like Bigfoot and scaring hikers. Is kindness even possible? Or could I be just the kind of person a Bigfoot impersonator would love to torment?
A memory of groping hands and angry hissed words slashes through my calm, but I stuff it back down where it belongs. That happened once, because I let down my guard and forgot how dangerous humans can be. I forget how angry a person can get when they realize they’ve been played. It only lasted a moment. My father rescued me and I was fine. But I’ll never forget the fury in that man’s eyes.
I’m smarter now. No one will ever corner me again.
And I’m not conning Bigfoot. I’m not.
I’m just asking for a favor, and there’s no reason Bigfoot should get mad about that. No is a complete answer.
Not that I can accept no, but I’m not conning the fluffy beast. I’m not.
Behind me, a branch snaps and leaves crunch. I press my lips together tight, to keep from screaming in fear, and take three big steps closer to the cottage.
I don’t know who’s been dressing up as Bigfoot, but I know they’re friends with my sister Clover and her boyfriend Asher, so they have to be safer than whatever is in the forest.
Right?
My heart pounds with fear, and I swallow hard. I’m not a con artist anymore, but maybe Bigfoot will be more willing to help if I lean into my fear. Everyone loves a sweet, submissive woman who needs the help of someone big and strong, right?
I hunch my shoulders forward and drag my long hair halfway across my face. I’ve been thinking of cutting it all off, because it’s getting too long and is always in my way, but I haven’t had the time for an appointment.
My fingers bump over a bit of clay tangled in the long strands, but I don’t pull it out. It’s too dry and will take a clump of my hair with it. I’ll have to wet it and work it out gently when I’m back in my ceramics studio.
I watch the house and listen for any sounds from inside.
I’ve always been a good listener, because it’s the best way to read a person and to understand their wants and needs. It’s part of what made me such a good con artist.
People think I’m naturally intuitive, practically a mind reader, but I just love knowing people and figuring out how to be there for them, especially my four sisters.
Some people would call what I do eavesdropping, but I call it being aware of my surroundings. I like to know what everyone in my life is up to. I always have.
When I noticed Clover and Asher acting strange whenever anyone mentioned Bigfoot, my suspicions were piqued .
Ever since Clover told us she’d found a home for our little goat, Barley Hopper, I’d been dying to know where. I’m nosy that way.
It might seem over the top to people who have a vibrant social life or a lack of free time, but I started following Clover and Asher whenever they left the house. It wasn’t easy with my work schedule, but nothing worth doing ever is.
Last week, they drove to this house and hung out on the front porch for so long, I almost got bored and drove away. My patience paid off when Bigfoot ambled into the front yard and hugged my sister and her boyfriend.
Bingo.
