Page 38 of Total Jane Wreck

“You should take something for the pain. Something to help you sleep. I don’t have much, but—”

“How about two Tylenol PMs, washed down with a shot of bourbon?”

Chet’s eyebrows shoot up, as if he’s impressed. “Your wish is my command.”

He strides off, coming back in no time with what I requested, plus a glass of water. “To keep you hydrated.”

First, I sling back the bourbon. “Is this Four Roses, small batch?”

“Of course,” Chet answers. “Only the best for my Kentucky Jane.”

“You’re too good to me.” I drink from the water glass and down the Tylenol PMs. “There, that should do the trick. I’ll be out like a light in no time.”

Half a smile inches up Chet’s face. “Anything else you need?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” If I wasn’t completely exhausted, traumatized, and in pain, I’d say Chet’s expression was full of longing.

“I’m sure.”

Except, there’s really nothing that I’m sure about anymore.

Chet leaves, and true to my word, I drift off almost immediately. Sleep covers me like a heavy blanket, interrupted only by the voices—loud, yelling voices—that could have been part of my dreams.

Or they could have come from the direction of the blue barn.

Chapter Seventeen

I don’t understand enigmas. I could never guess a riddle in my whole life.

I must be sleeping in pretty late, because Axel Rose comes to wake me up.

“Jane? Morning, sunshine!” She pokes her head inside my door after knocking only once. Strolling inside without invitation, she looks like her usual edgy self. Black jeans with rips at the knees and a Bon Jovi concert tee. “Chet said to come check on you. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll survive.”

That’s the truth. However, I don’t elaborate. But something must’ve died inside my mouth, and my feet have been microwaved. Sitting up, I reach for the glass of water that Chet left on the nightstand. “You heard about what happened?”

“Yes. A mysterious fire and you single-handedly rescuing all the horses.”

“Mmm. Only sort of. Chet pushed me and Miss Adele to safety. But the fire, that was mysterious. How does a hay bale just spontaneously combust?”

Axel Rose meets my gaze, but her eyes betray nothing. “I don’t know, sweetheart.” She sighs. “Let me check your bandages, okay?”

I agree, and she sets to work, looking to see if my feet need more ointment or fresh wrappings. “Chet did a decent job. Hopefully, you’ll heal quick.”

“Yeah.” There’s a solemn pause. “Axel Rose, has Chet said anything more about the blue barn?”

“No.” Her retort is instant and sharp. “But it’s none of my business, so why would he say anything?”

“I don’t know.” My voice cracks. “Except—it doesn’t add up. He did repairs while we were both gone, and now his aunt Grace is living there like it’s a private spa? Meanwhile, something—or someone—had to start that fire. What if Grace was behind it?”

“Jane!” Axel Rose leaps up, boots thudding against the floor. She plants her hands on her hips. “Sometimes things just happen.” Inhaling deeply, she rolls her shoulders as if shrugging off the weight of the world. “Look, I partially agree. Something is going on. But you can’t just accuse Grace of arson without any evidence. That’s a serious charge.”

“You’re right.” I sit up, gripping the covers, eyes locked on hers. “Think about it though—the fire started in a hay bale at three in the morning. Chet doesn’t smoke, doesn’t burn candles. Neither do I. That just leaves the mysterious Grace Poole. I’m only after the truth.”

Her gaze narrows. “That’s not all you’re after.”