Page 44 of Total Jane Wreck

Mason lets out a dry, pain-filled chuckle. “This is classic.” He glares at Chet. “The moment I step onto your property, someone stabs me in the back. Did you hire out a hit on me?”

“Of course not,” Chet says, voice tight.

“Then why aren’t you calling the police?” Tom asks his stepson.

“Because,” Chet answers, “it’s better to solve this privately if possible.”

“Did you see the person who attacked you?” Gloria asks Mason.

Mason’s breathing is ragged. “No. I was just walking by here, minding my own business. Then someone grabs me from behind. I didn’t see her face, but it was obviously a woman. She stabbed me, I fell to the ground, and then she ran off.”

Tom spears Chet with his gaze. “You got some kind of security setup? Cameras?” His voice is part accusation, like he’s already mapped out a list of suspects.

As Mason tries to stand, he grunts with the effort. “Come on. This place—” he sweeps his hand in a circle “—is a walking lawsuit.” Mason pins his gaze on Chet. “You’re still a coward, running from what you did. And if you think that this—” Mason winces as he gestures to the knife in his back “—will scare me off from getting revenge, from getting back everything that’s rightfully mine—you’re wrong.”

Gloria sucks in a breath. “Come now, Mason. Surely you don’t think Chet planned this?”

“Your son isn’t the saint you think he is.” He looks at Chet. “Get ready. Cuz just like you took everything from me, I’m gonna take everything from you.” When Mason notices my presence, he chuckles. “Better hope your new piece of ass doesn’t learn the truth.”

Chet turns, seeing that I’ve been here the whole time, bearing witness. His face turns red. “Jane!” he yells. “I told you to go!”

My heart’s in my throat. “Sorry,” I murmur.

I scurry away.

Once I’m safely back in my trailer, I peek through the window blinds. The ambulance arrives, Mason boards it, and Tom and Gloria take off following in their car. Meanwhile, Chet stands, lonely in a pool of light. Once they’re gone, he bangs on the door of the blue barn. It opens, he steps inside, and then—that’s it.

I watch for a very long time, but Chet doesn’t emerge. Finally, I surrender to sleepiness. But as I’m lying in bed, staring at my trailer’s ceiling, I have to wonder—

What the hell is going on?

Chapter Nineteen

If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.

I awake to a trailer-shaking crash of thunder. It’s after seven thirty, which is late for me to be getting up. But it’s so dark, a symptom of the storm. Also, last night I forgot to set my alarm.

It doesn’t take me long to wash up and get dressed. I consider nuking some hot water for a cup of Folger’s instant, but Axel Rose usually has a pot of the good stuff brewing inside the stable. So I throw on my rain slicker and bolt the short distance from my trailer to Axel Rose, the horses, and a decent cup of coffee. When I get inside, I find more than I bargained for.

It’s Chet and a man in a police uniform, standing in a loose circle with Axel Rose. All three look toward me when I enter. “Jane,” Chet says. “Glad you’re here. We were just about to come get you. This is Theo Baird, sheriff of Sugar Pine. He’s here about last night’s incident and would like to ask you some questions.”

Chet’s voice and manner are so matter-of-fact, it’s like he’s erected a physical barrier between us, one that shouts, “We’ve got a boss/employee relationship and nothing more!”

“Of course,” I say to Theo. “I’d be happy to answer your questions. How’s Mason doing?”

“I hear he’s doing well,” Theo says. “The wound was fairly superficial, no major damage done. But he still wants to find the perpetrator.”

“That’s understandable.” I walk over to the counter and casually pour myself a cup of coffee, as if I don’t feel like I’m on a Law & Order episode, minus the crispy fried body. “Ask away, Sheriff.”

Theo looks like he’s around thirty years old. He’s handsome and hot, but in an overly responsible sorta way. So, this is Emma’s fella? I make a mental note—the next time I’m at The Pretty Pinecone, I’ll give my new friend a high-five.

“Jane,” Theo asks, “did you see or hear anything unusual last night, around the time of the attack?”

I shake my head. “Nothing beyond the fireworks and the sound of people enjoying themselves.” I sip my coffee. “But I was at the far end of the property when it happened.”

Theo’s pen is poised above his notepad. “You weren’t here, at the party?”

My stomach flips over. Axel Rose listens, tight-lipped, and Chet stands behind Theo with his arms crossed as though he’s Secret Service. Then, Chet gives a subtle shake of his head. The message is loud and clear—Don’t say that we were off together.