I went to the kitchen, dished up some leftovers, and waited while they warmed in the microwave.
“So I heard there was a little incident at the Timberbeast last night.”
The microwave beeped and I took out my plate. I knew exactly what she was talking about but I decided to play dumb. “What incident?”
“Something about the new girl in town and her ex-boyfriend. Ring any bells?”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I’m just wondering what really happened. According to Doris Tilburn, you were on a date with the girl and he showed up claiming she was his wife. But Margie Hauser said he was her ex-boyfriend, not her husband, and you threw him out of the bar. Amy Garrett heard it was Zachary, not you, or that you almost started a fight but Zachary stopped it. I know that one’s just town gossip, Zachary would escalate a situation, not calm it down.”
She wasn’t wrong about Zachary. He’d turned escalating situations into an art form. “You know better than to listen to what the gossips in this town say.”
“Of course I do. That’s why I’m asking you.”
I took my plate to the living room and sat in an armchair. “Why do you care?”
“Call it motherly curiosity. You’re not exactly forthcoming about what’s going on in your life. Whether or not there really was drama at the Timberbeast, it makes me wonder if you were out with a girl.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then what happened?”
I let out a breath. “Her ex-boyfriend showed up and wouldn’t leave her alone.”
“And you intervened?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm,” she said, and I couldn’t tell what it meant. “Did you throw him out?”
“I got him to leave.”
“Good for you. I’m sure the girl appreciated it.”
“Audrey.”
The corners of her lips twitched. “So you do know her.”
“She’s a tenant.”
“But you know her name.”
“Yeah. She’s a tenant.”
“Tell me the name of one of your other tenants. Any one.”
I went back to my food.
“See? You don’t remember names unless they’re important to you.”
“She’s not important to me. She’s a pain in my ass. I had to help her hold a funeral for a dead squirrel this morning.”
Dad came in through the back door right as I said dead squirrel. His brow furrowed. “Where was there a dead squirrel?”
“Audrey’s house,” Mom chimed in.
“Who’s Audrey?” Dad asked.
“The girl Josiah saved from her ex-boyfriend at the Timberbeast.”
His thick brows drew in closer. “Why did a girl’s ex-boyfriend have a dead squirrel?”
I dropped my fork onto the plate. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
It was Mom’s turn to look confused. “What does the dead squirrel have to do with her ex?”
“The dead squirrel was at the Timberbeast?” Dad asked. “I thought you said Audrey’s house. The Timberbeast has had a squirrel problem ever since that Bailey prank all those years ago. Not usually dead ones, though.”
“No, dead squirrel, her house,” I said, gesturing like I was putting something in a box. “Douchey ex, Timberbeast.”
“Then why are we talking about dead squirrels?” Dad asked.
“Because Josiah likes her,” Mom said.
I groaned.
“The squirrel?” Dad asked.
“No, Audrey.”
“Who’s Audrey?”
“One of your tenants,” Mom said. “Josiah intervened at the Timberbeast when her ex was harassing her. And he held a funeral for a dead squirrel at her house. Those are separate things.”
“So the ex didn’t have anything to do with the squirrel,” Dad said.
Mom shook her head. “No.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Do you think so?” Mom asked, turning back to me.
Dad crossed his arms. “Are you saying we have a tenant whose ex left a dead squirrel at her house?”
“I don’t know. But I’m suspicious. He comes to the Timberbeast, I chase him off, then she winds up with a dead animal on her doorstep the next morning.”
Mom winced. “That’s disturbing.”
“You’re probably reading too much into it,” Dad said. “There are more squirrels than humans around here. Sometimes they die.”