Chapter 8: The Extra Sleuth

DING DONG DING DONG

“Argh!” Phinn screamed into the pillow after looking at his alarm clock. 7:33.

Lying in his bed, the teen could hear a mumbled conversation from downstairs. The teen also listened to the birds chirping outside his window in the morning, which seemed to annoy him further. Ethan and Galen had chosen to sleep on the pair of couches in the living room. They’d still been fully awake and playing a video game when Phinn crashed around 3:00 am. Now, he heard one of his friends yell upstairs.

“Yo, Phinn, the neighbor kid is here!”

With a murderous glare at the clock, Phinn switched off the alarm, which he’d set to wake him at 7:45. Rolling out of bed, he went to tell his rummage sale assistant that he was up and didn’t need to worry about him oversleeping the 8:00 start.

“I’m the official president of the Busybody, Inc. Fan Club. Don’t you remember?”

“Man, I’m barely able to open my eyes,” Galen responded, staggering back to the sofa.

“We know who you are, Corky,” Ethan added, curling the pillow around his head to block out any sound.

“I’m up, I’m up. Let me take a shower, and we‘ll be ready in time,” Phinn yelled, stopping halfway down the stairs.

“You’re only getting up now?” Corky asked with an alarmed expression. “The early birds are out and about on the block.”

“The what?” Phinn questioned.

“The early bird shoppers. Didn’t your mom warn you about them? They’re often the biggest spenders,” the twelve-year-old repeated what he’d been told.

“Oh, you gotta be…Fine. Grab the keys to the garage. They’re in the kitchen on the hook,” Phinn explained. “But I’m still taking a shower first.”

“Gotcha!” Corky exclaimed, sounding way too chipper for this time of the morning. Galen and Ethan groaned in reply to Phinn’s unspoken remark.

Fifteen minutes later, Phinn re-descended the stairs, showered, changed, and with an empty bladder. Shaking his head at his two snoring friends, he grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator for caffeine before walking out the back door.

“What the?” the teen immediately said, abruptly halting at the sight before him.

Mr. Magnum seemed to be in the final stage of erecting a canopy tent over the front of the two garages. Corky helped Jake's mom carry several tables, filled with items, out of their garage to put under the tent. Realizing that the Magnums would be setting up as well, Phinn saw a potential way to avoid running the sale every day.

“Didn’t your mother tell you?” Justine responded to Phinn’s comment.

“Tell me what?” the teen asked, glancing at his younger neighbor.

“I was there when she did,” Corky interjected.

“Don’t worry, Phineas. It’s not very many items,” the busy attorney assured, checking the time on her phone. “And Corky knows what price we’re willing to go down to.”

“I’m in charge of your stuff, too?” Phinn questioned, incredulously.

“It’s not as bad as you make it sound. Libby and Jake will lend a hand,” Marvin reassured. Yet, when Phinn asked about their whereabouts, he didn’t like the answer. “Jake’s sleeping in. I tried to wake him, but he’s quite grumpy.”

“And Libby should be back from Brigid’s in a few hours. She spent the night over there,” Justine added before patting her son’s best friend’s head. “Don’t look so glum.”

“We appreciate it, buddy,” Marvin added, patting Corky’s shoulder before his wife kissed the top of the younger kid’s head. “Well, I gotta go. Meeting a distributor at nine.”

“And I have a client meeting,” Justine added, walking past several of the early birds, who began to flock up the driveway.

“That frigging burglar is going to pay,” Phinn grumbled, watching as Corky greeted the potential customers.

The early birds, armed with coffee in hand, moved with the ease of seasoned sharks, their eyes scanning the horizon for the next big catch. Others swooped in and out within less than thirty seconds, their gaze skimming like hawks on the lookout for their prey. Some of these treasure hunters seemed worse than the crooks Phinn and his friends had stopped over the years.

The legend of the early birds and their spending didn’t come to fruition at the combined Farris/Magnum garage sale. Corky announced they’d made a single dollar, split between two 50-cent items that Phinn viewed as crap. Mumbling about getting up early for nothing, Phinn went inside to grab another can of soda for himself and one for his helper.

Returning five minutes later, interest appeared to perk up as a pair of middle-aged women gushed over several of the larger pieces. However, the more enthusiastic woman’s tone and body language abruptly changed when Phinn handed Corky his cola.

“You!” the woman shrieked, glaring at Phineas.

Immediately, she turned to huddle with her companion. A hushed discussion ensued until the companion turned her head to add her own version of a glare.

“Miscreant!” the second woman hissed before they both scurried away.

“What was that about?” the copper-haired assistant asked.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Phinn admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe we put her son behind bars or something.”

Waiting two minutes, Phinn walked down to the end of the driveway. A quick survey down Madison Avenue caused him to groan. Vehicles lined the sides of the street, while the sidewalks looked packed with people. The much-anticipated neighborhood rummage sale had already jumped into full gear, and it had barely reached 8:30.

Driveways up and down the block were lined with tables groaning under the weight of years of accumulated knick-knacks, forgotten books, and gadgets that had seen better days. Selected larger or heavier items rested on laid-out tarps on the cement. Most of the houses had tables or racks filled with clothes, jackets, boots, and other items. Many neighbors also sold the same types of items every year. Elderly Ms. Potts, down at the other end of the street, loved to sew and knit. So her selection often included hats, gloves, scarves, and blankets she made. Next door to her, Mr. Watts offered his simplistic paintings of barns, lakes, and hunters for sale.

Despite many neighbors placing their furniture in a central location on 35th Street in the Capshaws’ cul-de-sac, Phinn noted a few houses with furniture for sale. The Higginses, on the other side of the Rieses from Phinn’s house, had what looked to be an entire living room on their front lawn. There were recliners, armchairs, a sofa, lamps, and end tables. The Ackerlys, across the street from the Higginses, offered a bedroom set with a bed frame, two dressers, a vanity, and a pair of nightstands.

Between the Ackerlys and the Nooks, Phinn spotted Mr. Greene in the corner of his lawn. A Vietnam veteran, he sat in a folding chair, his eyes watching like a hawk as people sifted through the tables, as if he hoped to catch a shoplifter. Nearby, his never-ending apologizing wife flittered around the same tables. A gruff man who spoke in a slow, measured drawl, Mr. Greene loved to regale anyone willing to listen about all the men he claimed to have killed during the war. Those same cold eyes found Phinn with an unblinking gaze. The old man didn’t like snooping kids and never forgot a perceived slight from them.

“Morning, Phineas,” Mr. Nook greeted, getting into his car to head off to work.

“Have a nice day,” Phinn replied, heading back to sit near his garage.

Shortly after nine, Phinn and Corky started to banter back and forth over the younger kid’s whiteboard and selection of dry-erase markers.

“I don’t see the need for it. Not to mention, it looks tacky,” Phinn commented.

“Your mom loved the idea.”

“Of course, she did.”

“Hidey ho, boys!”

“Behave. It’s Mrs. Mercer,” Phinn hissed at the almost always well-behaved kid. “Morning, Mrs. Mercer! Don’t tell me, my mom sent you, right?”

“More than that, Phinny. I brought donuts!” Melody’s equally friendly and less ditzy mother announced, holding up a white box. “Don’t worry, dearie. Pammy told me what to buy.”

“I’m not worried. You always brought the best treats to school for Melody’s birthdays,” Phinn replied, pleased that his mother’s first minion turned out to be one that he actually liked. “Is Mel running your sale?”

“Oh, goodness gracious no! We combined our sale with the Donnellys. Melody and Erin are helping Daphne,” Harmony Mercer revealed about Mrs. Foster. “She’s going on and on about helping Jake look for clues before the fireworks. What’s that about?”

“Oh, your daughter helped Jake check the area, but we didn’t find anything. But Melody saved us a bunch of time,” Phinn lied.

“That’s wonderful!”

“Ooh! A cyclops!” Corky cheered, opening the box to find several round donuts with chocolate frosting on top and a big glob of buttercream in the middle.

“They are Phinny’s favorites,” Harmony replied, grinning as the peculiar teen nodded. “Okay, I have more deliveries to make, but I’ll stop by a few times this week to lend a hand.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Mercer,” Phinn said, watching as the delightful woman left and Jake stumbled sleepily out of his back door.

“Did she bring donuts?” the stocky teen asked, walking straight over to the box. However, while reaching inside, Phinn slapped his hand away.

“No, those are for people helping with the sale, not sleeping in.”

“I’m here to help now!” Jake insisted, grabbing a glazed Long John.

“What about your pre-practice diet?” Phinn challenged.

“After last night, I’m entitled to a treat,” Jake grumbled, dropping down onto the empty lawn chair next to his best friend. “Give me a sip.”

“Have the rest. I don’t want to drink your backwash,” Phinn replied, handing over his half-full can of cola.

“Anybody show up yet?” Jake asked, munching away.

Corky provided a full recounting of the morning so far, which seemed fine to Phinn.

“No luck with Gabby last night?” Phinn inquired once Corky finished.

“Oh!” Jake sounded, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, sorry. Uh, Gabby recognized the woman in the picture. He had one of his regulars confirm her identity. It’s a Veronica Strecker. Her husband was Dell Strecker, some big-shot land developer—”

“Who ended up swindling a bunch of people. I’m aware of the man and his history,” Phinn acknowledged.

“Gabby thought you’d know him,” Jake relayed.

“Yes, Dell Strecker turned nasty when his fortunes waned. He also had a reputation as a womanizer around the area. I can see why his wife might have cheated, and why she’d be terrified of him discovering her infidelity.”

Jake waited until Corky finished writing down everything said in his little notebook. Then, he asked about the next step.

“I’ll message Zelda. While I know some about Dell, I can’t say I know much about his wife. Perhaps after lunch, you can go down there and browse the old copies of the Dispatch,” Phinn suggested.

“Me? You know I hate those old microfilm readers,” Jake reminded his partner.

“I’d gladly go rather than sit here, but it’s the first day. I know my mom will be checking in with her neighborhood network of spies, so I can’t leave,” Phinn pointed out, earning a **** agreement to visit the main library branch.

Ten minutes passed while Jake grabbed a second donut before nearly grabbing a third until he decided against it. The whole time, Phinn watched his best friend suspiciously. Only after Corky went to help a group of people did he speak.

“Alright, what happened last night?”

“What? Nothing!” the guilty teen protested.

“I know something happened.”

“You do? What did Libby tell you?”

“Your sister hasn’t come home yet from Brigid’s,” Phinn revealed. “I know because you’re acting all jittery like an addict, and you forgot to even message me last night about Veronica Strecker.”

“Look, things got complicated right before I left the bar. Abby, Cheyanne, and…Well, they came in with Ingle and Pine. I stayed to play some pool with them until I started a tournament with the girls. However, halfway through, a few cops pulled over a guy outside, so I had to leave before Gabby got into trouble. We agreed to meet back at Abby’s.”

“Did you sleep with one of them?” Phinn inquired. It felt like a required question, even if Jake’s behavior didn’t match with finally having a dream come true with Abigail or Cheyanne.

“I fucked Zoe!” Jake blurted out, causing several customers to look over aghast.

“Well…that’s a twist,” Phinn remarked. “Funny, how you neglected to mention her presence.”

“It’s not like that, Phinn! Zoe fucked me! She attacked me out back in the alley.”

“So she assaulted you?”

“What? No! I mean, she kinda took what she wanted at first, but I got into it. Oh, I got into it,” Jake cried, placing his face into his hands. “My life is ruined.”

“It went that route? I guess I can see Zoe Foster not believing in birth control. She does have some odd views on life,” Phinn responded.

“What?! Oh, gawd! I never thought to ask,” Jake admitted, his face blanching.

“Then, how is your life ruined?”

“Libby! She’s going to find out. I doubt Zoe will keep it quiet. Plus, I never made it to Abby’s house,” Jake revealed.

“Hmm, your sister has threatened harm if you ever went after Sydney, Kari, or Brigid, and I believe you were warned away from Abigail and Cheyanne. However, I don’t think Zoe was on the list,” Phinn rattled off.

“I’m not worried about getting my dick cut off. I’m petrified about the decades of teasing my sister will conduct. And what about other people? Jake Magnum does not fuck crazy. That’s not how it works,” Jake declared. “You’re the one people expect to hook up with Zaina.”

“Hey! Don’t drag me into your clusterfuck.”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s not that I expect it from you. It’s other people at school,” Jake pointed out.

“Fair enough,” Phinn agreed. “However, Zaina has never been my type.”

While Jake began to drone on about how he’d be the laughingstock of the team soon, Phinn cut him off with a wave of his hand. He’d spotted a woman discussing several small pieces of furniture with Corky that had sat in a corner of his basement for years. Casually dressed in a t-shirt with loose shorts, a ballcap, and a pair of eyeglasses, Phinn turned his nose up at the woman before rising from his chair.

“Thirty dollars for this is almost laughable. And forty for that? Outrageous!” the dark-haired woman mocked with a chuckle.

“Pardon me. I can handle this, Corky,” Phinn stated, his overly polite tone immediately causing Jake to look over in concern.

“Are you in charge? Good! What’s the lowest price you can do on these three items?” the woman questioned, pointing to the pieces.

Looking past the customer, Phinn saw Corky write down his mother’s lowest prices on his whiteboard after checking his notebook. Each item could be knocked down by about $15. With the slightest gesture, the teen ordered their assistant to put away the board.

“I’m sorry. These items are priced as marked,” Phinn began. He continued talking as the woman tried to interrupt him. “They belong to Great-Aunt Phillippa, who’s practically at ****’s door in the nursing home.”

“Oh, my condolences, you poor thing,” the dark-haired woman said, her fake sympathy clear as the day to the cynical detective. “However, I know it can be even more difficult to part ways with these things after the tragic passing of a relative. There are often so many things to deal with after their passing. Perhaps you can relent and save that time by lowering your prices a little.”

“There will be no discounts. My mother considers them to be almost family heirlooms.”

“But you’re overpricing them due to personal feelings. You just need to be open to–”

“No discounts, lady!” Phinn snapped, raising eyebrows from several other browsers. “My family’s history will not be tossed away for pennies by a grave robber!”

“Well, I never!” the dark-haired woman exclaimed before spinning around to storm off.

“Uh, Phinn, you’re supposed to be getting rid of unwanted junk,” Jake reminded. “And I thought those were your grandparents’ crap they dumped here before moving to that retirement community.”

“Corky, get her license plate number. I think it’s that dark red SUV,” Phinn ordered in a whisper. Turning back to Jake, he addressed his partner’s points. “You didn’t recognize her?”

“Should I have?”

“It took me a minute with her dressed down in that manner. Not to mention, those fake eyeglasses are a nice touch,” Phinn explained.

“Those are fake? How do you know that?”

“Because the few times that we’ve crossed paths with Ms. Nichols, she’s usually dressed quite professionally.”

“Wait, why do I know that name?” Jake queried.

“She owns that antique store near Anchor Rock. The one that often competes with Rusty Trinkets. Ms. Nichols has also been known to badmouth Mr. Warkentin, who, I might add, has occasionally provided us with badly needed funds.”

“That’s right, Nichols does do that, and I like Mr. Warkentin,” Jake replied.

“Corky, who’s helping the Capshaws today?” Phinn asked once their fan club president returned with the license plate number. “Is Allison handling her grandfather’s repairs?”

“No, I’m pretty sure that Kody is over there today.”

“Good. Jake, text Kody with a description of her appearance and the vehicle she drives. I’ll do the same with Allie. Tell him to inform Mrs. Capshaw that the woman is not to be given any discount,” Phinn directed.

Messages were sent and replies received over the conniving antique dealer. An additional message came from Zelda Imhoff, the assistant head librarian. She informed her favorite junior sleuths that she’d already started to look into Veronica and Dell Strecker.

“Tell Zelda that I’ll stop by after her lunch break,” Jake told Phinn. “I’m going to go for a run.”

“You’re running to the store?”

“No, I’m going for a jog. I need to de-stress over this Zoe thing, and I need to burn off those donut calories,” Jake explained.

“Who just runs?”

“I do, and plenty of others do as well. It’s called staying in shape. Maybe you should try it sometime,” Jake suggested sarcastically, heading for his house to change shoes.

“I run enough on our cases,” Phinn yelled at his partner’s back.

Five minutes after Jake headed off on his run, Phinn announced that he needed to check on Bandit.

“Corky, you’re in charge for a few minutes.”

Nearly half an hour later, Libby returned home to find Phinn standing on her brother’s bed, fooling around with the ceiling fan. At his feet on the bed, Bandit watched the work with occasional whines and barks. Leaning against the doorframe, the blonde watched in bewilderment as Phinn carried on a conversation with her family’s bulldog.

“I don’t want to know what you’re doing, but you should probably get back outside. Corky’s in over his head.”

“Whoa!” Phinn exclaimed, grabbing the fan’s light fixture to steady himself. “Don’t startle us like that.”

“Bandie’s happy to see me,” Libby pointed out, walking over to the bed to pet her dog.

“Corky’s fine. I just came in here, and there was almost nobody out there,” Phinn said dismissively.

“He made it sound a lot longer, and there are at least thirty people out there now,” Liberty reported.

“Shit. Can’t you help? You’re supposed to,” Phinn reminded.

“Let me take a shower first,” Phinn’s old babysitter replied, walking toward her bedroom.

“Well, I think we’re out of luck for now,” Phinn told Bandit. Looking down, he noticed the bulldog sniffing the air near Jake’s headboard. “What smells so interesting?”

Figuring it wasn’t a pleasant smell left behind by his friend, Phinn reluctantly leaned down. Risking a sniff, he got a whiff of a fruity scent. Glancing around, he finally found the source in a plug-in air freshener in the wall socket behind Jake’s headboard.

“It’s just something your mother puts in here because your brother smells,” Phinn informed Bandit as he slid off the bed. “Let's go check on Corky.”

However, Phinn stopped near the doorway after noticing the air freshener plugged into the wall socket next to the door. Noticing the differing designs, the teen sleuth didn’t think much of it until he kneeled to smell the lemon scent.

“Hmm, that’s strange. Your mother would never mix scents in the same room. She’s far too organized to do that,” Phinn told the dog, who barked in response.

Returning to the bed, he leaned around it to yank out the air freshener. Immediately, Phinn confirmed that this one had a full liquid container of strawberry scent. It took only a few seconds to find the bug connected to the air freshener.

“Excellent detection work, Bandit. You’re outdoing Jake lately. This calls for a treat,” Phinn announced.

After handing over the reward, Phinn placed the entire air freshener inside a plastic baggie and zipped it shut. Walking outside, he groaned at the size of the crowd. Libby might have undercounted the people. Tossing the baggie across Jake’s yard for now, Phinn and Bandit rejoined the sale.

“How’s it going?” the brainy detective asked the frazzled twelve-year-old.

“Phineas, where have you been?” Charlotte Annable asked. “Luckily, I came by to check up on things, and I found this poor boy up to his neck with customers. Your friends stopped by to help as well.”

“I’m sorry. I went inside to feed and check on Bandit,” Phinn said, selling his story by pulling Bandit over toward him. “You don’t need to stay. I’m back, and Libby should be out here soon.”

“Well, if you’re sure that you’re okay,” the alderwoman double-checked. “I heard there was a commotion on this street.”

“And you thought it was me? I’m hurt, Aunt Charlotte,” Phinn replied, placing his hand on his chest. He also made sure to use the family title that the alderwoman always insisted on.

“I did suspect you, but I’ve been informed that it was George Higgins. Apparently, a woman marched straight up to him and lowballed a ludicrous price for their living room furniture. I mean, the nerve of some people. Everyone agrees that George is laidback, too!”

“Mr. Higgins is very laid back and mellow,” Phinn agreed, covering his smile. That woman had to have been Ms. Nichols. “You should check on Mr. Greene. I noticed he’s been glaring at people again with that look. You know the one.”

“Already? It’s the first morning. We don’t need that man starting any issues,” Charlotte complained before hurrying across the street.

Returning to the garage, Phinn found Ethan and Galen devouring several donuts.

“You'd better be helping if you’re eating those,” their host warned. “Mom left breakfast bars in the cabinet for you guys.”

“Oh, Galen ate some of those already. Wow, it’s getting busy out here,” Ethan remarked, handing Corky the cashbox. “I can stay a little bit, but he needs to get home soon, and I drove.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Phinn replied.

His friends stayed another fifteen minutes until the crowd died down again. Galen decided to leave, alerting Ethan with an elbow to his side, when he saw Mrs. Capshaw and Mrs. Nook walking up the driveway with a purpose in their steps.

“See-ya, buddy!” Galen waved, bypassing the approaching women.

“Phineas, why are you telling your friends not to sell furniture to that woman?” Mrs. Capshaw challenged.

“You promised to behave, Phinn,” Mrs. Nook reminded.

“I didn’t tell anyone to refuse a sale to Ms. Nichols. I only said not to give her a discount,” Phinn clarified. “I can see Kody misunderstanding, but not Allie.”

“Nichols? Why is that name familiar?” Sharon Capshaw asked.

Phinn went on to explain about the antique dealer and what happened when he refused to give in to her demands.

“It sounds like she went straight over and insulted Mr. Higgins,” Phinn added.

“I understand that you don’t like her business tactics, but we sell to resellers every year. They’re often our best customers,” Sharon explained.

“I know what you’re thinking, Mrs. Capshaw, but it’s just not my opinion. That woman spreads lies about Mr. Warkentin. I can also confirm that Mr. Shepley shares my opinion. That’s why I messaged his granddaughter. I thought Allie might be helping sell his repaired furniture.”

“Now that I think of it, I have heard Bill say things about an antique dealer located in Anchor Rock,” Janice Nook recalled.

“You see? I’m not wrong. Ask Corky, that woman turned into a bitch within seconds. She even hoped to buy more stuff if Great-Aunt Phillippa died soon,” Phinn piled on.

“Um, I don’t think that’s what happen–”

“Corky, that woman wants to buy that knick-knack!”

“Alright, you may have been partially correct, but you need to remember to treat the shoppers nicely. Be friendly, add a smile…sometimes,” Mrs. Nook suggested.

“I’d send Sydney to help, but she’s working today. Sherry’s not as friendly,” Mrs. Capshaw admitted, causing Corky to perk up momentarily before deflating.

“No worries. Libby should be out here soon,” Phinn revealed, attempting to reassure his mother’s friends. “I mean, she’s not the nicest person in the world, but it’s better than nothing.”

“I don’t want to be here if you say that around her,” Sharon remarked, knowing her eldest daughter’s friend’s temper. “Hello, Bandit!”

Phinn watched as the older brunette entered the garage to pet the waiting bulldog.

“No need to be concerned, ladies, for the ultimate saleswoman has arrived courtesy of Mrs. Farris,” a new, cheerful voice announced from the middle of the driveway.

“Oh, please no,” Phinn groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Not today.”

“Hello, Mrs. Nook, I believe. I’m Johanna Zay, social media influencer and Jake Magnum’s future publicist,” the chocolate-haired teen introduced herself.

“Oh, yes, Pam mentioned you. Aren’t you dating Phineas?” Mrs. Nook inquired.

“Fuck no!” Phinn screeched.

“Clearly not. However, I have been tasked by his mother to comb the farthest reaches of this region to find Phineas a date,” Johanna revealed.

“How delightful! I wish you luck,” Mrs. Nook replied, causing Phinn to throw out his hands over the luck comment. “However, I need to check on my own son and my sale. Sharon, I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’m heading back home, too,” Mrs. Capshaw called over before giving Bandit a final pet. “Please avoid any more incidents, Phineas. However well-intentioned they might be.”

“No problems. I’m working on being on my best behavior.”

Mrs. Capshaw had barely reached the sidewalk before Johanna opened her mouth.

“You already started a fight? It’s just past ten!”

“Phinn tends to rub people the wrong way,” Libby stated, standing in the doorway. “His mom expects this week to be a disaster.”

“Hey, if I hadn’t stayed behind, you’d be working this sale by yourself, missy!” Phinn shot back. Probably the one person least afraid of his older neighbor, the teen detective rarely pulled punches with his comments around Jake’s sister.

“Wasn’t the last-minute vacation because of you?” the dirty blonde responded. “Even Jake knows that break-in wasn’t random.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t been bar-hopping, you could’ve caught them.”

“You’re the person who made my fake–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Keep quiet about that, Lib!” Phinn hissed.

“Oh, this is fascinating. I need some popcorn,” Johanna remarked, giddily.

“Who are…Wait, you’re that girl who interviewed my brother, right?” Libby questioned.

“Johanna Zay. Pleased to meet you,” the aspiring influencer introduced herself, holding out her hand. “I’m also the new publicist for Busybody, Incorporated.”

“How? That group doesn’t exist anymore,” Libby stated, pulling back her hand before Johanna could shake it.

“She’s got you there,” Phinn chuckled.

“Technically, I’m the publicist for the Busybody, Inc. Fan Club. Ask Cormac, we made a deal,” Johanna clarified.

“Cormac? Aren’t you the professional?” Libby remarked, adding what Phinn called her trademark sass. “Listen, girl, being pushy won’t get you to sleep with my brother. He likes to do the chasing himself.”

“Sheesh!” Johanna squealed.

“I wouldn’t rule that out, Lib. Jake’s been known to cave when a woman is pushy. As a matter of fact, it happened pretty recently.”

“Eww, I don’t want to know that about my brother,” Liberty replied with a sickened expression. However, she perked right back up. “Mrs. LeClaire, what brings you over here?”

“Morning, Libby. I came by to see if it’s true. Did that Nichols woman cause an incident?”

Libby acted a bit put out as Phinn took over the conversation with her friend’s mother. She wandered over into the garage by Bandit as Phinn explained to Abby and Allie’s mother about the woman her father, Bill Shepley, disliked.

“Well, I do think that Dad exaggerates often, but if Warkentin also doesn’t like her, there might be some truth in the matter,” April admitted before moving over into the garage to talk to Libby.

“So that’s Jake’s sister. I heard she could be a bitch,” Johanna remarked.

“Libby also has excellent hearing. So that’s likely two strikes against you,” Phinn smirked.

“Oh, don’t think you’re off the hook, buster. I’m pissed at you.”

“For what?”

“For ditching us the other night. I wanted you to meet–”

“I know who you wanted me to meet, and I’m not interested in a visiting cousin of Crystal’s. I don’t care what my mom said; I don’t need or want your matchmaking help. I’m doing perfectly fine on my own,” Phinn stated.

“Your mother doesn’t want you to go to college next year a virgin and having never dated a girl. Everyone knows what happens to those boys once the first girl puts out,” Johanna declared with a knowing nod.

“Is that how your parents met?” Phinn managed to avoid the slap. “I apologize, but that’s what you get for continuing to push that falsehood about my sexual experience.”

“Oh, please. You have not had sex.”

“You know, I doubted his claim for months, but he definitely had a night with a woman last week,” Jake announced, returning from his run.

“Last week? That would mean…oh, my,” Johanna gasped, turning to find Jake shirtless. Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she took in his sweaty chest and torso.

“About time you got back,” Phinn complained, ignoring Johanna licking her lips. “Libby returned and is in a sour mood. No, no, don’t worry. It’s not about that.”

“Jesus, Phinn! Don’t give me a heart attack like that,” Jake groaned. However, his stance immediately turned defensive upon hearing his sister shout.

“What the fuck?!”

Phinn turned to find Liberty leaning over her chair to see what Bandit held in his mouth. The older Magnum sibling held the other end of what appeared to be an 8x10 photograph.

“Is that the picture?” Jake asked, dumbfounded.

“Can’t be!” Phinn exclaimed, rushing over to stop Bandit from tugging. The bulldog thought he and Libby had started to play a game of tug-of-war.

“Oww! What the hell?” Libby exclaimed after Phinn slapped her hand.

“Bandit, buddy, I need that, okay? It’s part of an important case. Do you understand? You have to drop it?”

“Like the dog is going to drop–Oh, alright,” Johanna said, watching Bandit drop the picture and bark excitedly at Phineas.

“Jacob, why does your dog have a picture of two women engaged in sex?” April LeClaire challenged.

“He does?!”

“It’s another one,” Phinn stated, using a piece of Kleenex to wipe off Bandit’s slobber. A faint indentation of teeth marks remained at the bottom of the photo.

Stunned, Jake looked down to see two naked women in a 69-position with one woman’s head raised to show her face. Similar to the other picture, the camera angle from the side hid any of the women’s private parts.

Flipping the photograph over, Phinn read the words written in black marker.

“Pay the installment or Mother and Father learn the truth. 5611B Lafayette.”