Page 71 of Jonesing for a Spy

Miss Clary Marice rambles our way. That woman is the town gossip. More so, she is the grapevine. If anything happens in this city, she knows… and she shares.

I look up at Jamie several feet away, and he nods almost imperceptibly. We fall silent well before we hit her ever-itching ears and—aside from our polite hellos—stay that way until out of earshot.

“She’s a menace,” Jamie murmurs several strides later.

“Do you think we got away with anything in high school or was it all reported?”

“Reported. For sure. I’m surprised we get away with anything now.”

“Facts.” But it begs the question, what would my brother have to get away with now?

“Yesterday was brutal, by the way. Genius and brutal.”

“Simple yet effective.”

“Mom got over it quicker than I expected honestly.”

“Publicly maybe. She’ll still burn me for it at some point.”

“Yup.”

We’ve hit our stride a little over a mile in. Our shoes hit the concrete in time; our breaths saw in tandem as we eat up the distance.

“Why are we out here, Scooter?”

Well, here goes nothing.

“How easy is it to play me?”

He stutter-steps, as if the path itself jumped up and bit the toe of his running shoe.

“Excuse me.”

“How easy would it be to play me? Am I gullible?”

“More info, please.”

“Answer that one first.” I say watching our surroundings. Fuzzy and Fergus are playing cards at a table near the water. What—did the whole town decide it’s the day to be on the coast?

“For me. Easy. For anyone else, no.”

“Why?”

“Why is it easy for me? You forget my training. Or that I know yours. We’re taught to read people which includes weak points. I know yours. If I wanted to, I could push them and you wouldn’t know it.”

I know that. That’s what I’m afraid of.

“And others?”

“You’d have to let them in. And, Scoot? That’s not your thing.”

Ouch. Good, I guess, but damn.

“What if I did?”

“Then it would take someone cunning, calculating, and cruel to pull it off.”

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