Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Jesse

O ne more clue and I'm cracking the Bling Ring case wide open. I'm waiting on the car wash security camera footage, and if I'm right, I'll know who, what, and where. Then it's just a matter of, once again, mustering up the courage to do the hard, but right thing.

And if so, that'll leave me as the sole remaining member of the Lawson family not behind bars.

But Tallula is a piece of another puzzle altogether. One I didn't know I was putting together.

Even though she said she never wanted to come back to Hogwash, it's funny how being here brings everything to the surface. Except for the truth about my own mystery.

Granted, her vengefulness makes me a little uneasy, but me, of all people, know that people can change. They can have low moments and react impulsively to a situation instead of responding cooly .

The moment Tallula and I shared in front of the mirror makes itself at home in my mind. If I could see my expression now, it would be of a guy with big puppy dog eyes and his mouth hanging open. I've fallen for Tallula. I wonder about what could grow between us if she sticks around. If she'd want to be with a guy like me. My heart has a clear answer to all my questions. My brain strikes back with doubt, but then something that was behind us in the mirror comes into focus in my mind's eye.

The mirror also reflected a picture on the wall behind us. I leap to my feet and race to Pigs in a Blanket. Pounding upstairs, I find a Swan's Syrup advertisement on the wall. Similar to the one at Tallula's parents' house, this one also bears the brand's logo stamped in the corner—two white swans floating in a pool of molasses.

The advertisement at the estate caught my eye as if trying to rustle up a memory. Then this one appeared like a spotlight. I'm missing something, but what?

The steps creak, and Thelma, like a ghost with dark hair, appears. "Returning to the scene of the crime?"

I frown and my inner alarm lights up. "What crime?"

A slow smile slinks across her face and her gaze flicks to the mirror at the end of the hallway. "Admiring the fine art." She must've overheard us in the hall.

I chuckle. "Something like that."

"It's obvious to everyone. Thankfully, they're preoccupied with the events on Main Street, but if you're not careful, your personal life is going to make it into the Pest Digest. If it were up to me, the headline would be, For goodness' sake, just kiss the girl already . "

If I had a cup of tea in my hand, I would've done a spit take.

"When the two of you are in a room together lights are flashing. Sirens wailing." She clicks her tongue.

"I'd like the fires in her life to come under control first."

"Don't underestimate how your steady presence and your good character can help with that. For a long time, people who didn't have her best interest in mind have surrounded Tallula. Glad to see she's breaking free."

"Me too." And I mean it, but my attention sticks to what Thelma said about my steady presence and good character. A sigh deflates me with fear. I'm not entirely sure who I am anymore. Am I a bad boy in cop's clothing? Am I guilty by association with my family? Am I worthy of someone like Tallula?

Now is not the time to reflect on the past or speculate about the future, so I turn back to the task because some smoldering fires need to be extinguished in my life too before I can move on. "Thelma, what can you tell me about this advertisement?"

"For Swan's Syrups? They hosted a contest years and years ago. I was a little girl. Contestants had to create an image that best depicted Swan's Syrups. They'd select the best submissions and use them in their advertising materials. There were various prizes—a lifetime supply of Swan's products, a year's supply, and some gift baskets—and money. The Swans had no shortage of that. My father, bless his soul, had a sweet tooth. He asked me to draw these swans. Thought it would be cute. "

"Did you win?"

"No, unless you count him framing my scribbles. You look like your thoughts are moving at about the same pace as molasses."

She isn't wrong, but I snap my fingers, pacing and struggling to shift everything together in my mind. This is my personal mystery and if I don't figure it out, my family's name will have even more mud on it and that could ruin my credibility as a police officer.

Thelma's raspy voice pierces my thoughts. "Don't tell anyone that I admitted this, but I had my chance at love and let it slip away on a ship out of Mobile." She shakes her head. "Still think about him from time to time. It's my biggest regret. But maybe a beignet bun will help sort out whatever is vexing you, weighing you down. That's what Betsy would say, anyway." She offers a rare smile.

"Thank you." I could go for tea too and a few minutes with Tallula, but she's not heavy in my mind. No, she's a source of light and laughter. Things I never thought I'd seek no less deserve.

But if I don't put together these pieces, I'm afraid that I'll be no better than my father.

When I get to the Coffee Loft, the energizing aroma of fresh grounds and the smell of buttery dough baked with cinnamon hug the air.

I have an important question for Tallula, but her apron is askew and pieces of her loose blonde curls fall into her face.

"Good morning. "

She shakes her head. "A spilled, overflowed, flooded morning is more like it."

"What happened?"

"I mis-programmed the coffee machine. If this were an episode of a romcom, it would be called, The One Where She Messes Up Everything ."

I want to gather Tallula into my arms and...kiss her to make it better. The spot on my cheek where she kissed me is still warm. If she'd left lipstick, I wouldn't have wiped it off.

"I'm not good at anything except being pretty and?—"

I hold up my hand. "Stop right there. You're good at making beignet buns."

"Money doesn't grow on beignet trees, and I'm super behind on orders after the great coffee flood of today." She lets out a long sigh and stares at the ceiling.

Looping my fingers around hers, I draw Tallula close. I tell myself I'm doing this for the townsfolk—they love the jumbo beignet buns—but this hug is for her. For me. Us.

"I'm broke and can hardly afford my room at Pigs in a Blanket. My parents are going to be back by the end of the month. Poor Moink hasn't had her blueberry oatmeal facial in weeks. This can't be my life. Baking beignet buns can't be my job."

"Tell that to the inventor of the owners of doughnut shops and every beignet bakery in the state. Yours are unique. One of a kind. People will come here from far and wide to try them and then stay for the coffee."

She peers up at me with tired eyes. "You really think so?"

"I know so. You went and broke the cinnamon roll and beignet rules and made something better. How's that for being a good girl?"

My lips lift. "Maybe your job is making people smile. You make a treat they can share with a friend or enjoy after a tough day or to celebrate something. A beignet bun is like a hug." I squeeze her tight.

Her arms snug around me and she tucks her cheek against my chest. My heart thrums. Tallula smells like sugar. I could really get used to this.

After a beat, she goes a little slack in my arms as if remembering something and mutters, "Mara will be here any minute. Said she's coming in to take over my shift. Told me to go home and sleep." With a yawn, Tallula adds, "I'm running on empty, but my brain is wired. I've had three espressos."

From the kitchen in the back, someone calls, "Tally, I'm here."

We jump apart, but Mara is a mom, meaning she has eyes on the back of her head and can see through walls. That's a fact.

Her smirk suggests she saw the little standing snuggle.

"Came in for T, I mean for a tea," I say. My ears heat.

Tallula's cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.

"Go home and get some sleep," Mara orders.

Tallula stashes her apron behind the counter, says goodbye to her sister, and follows me outside .

The air is pleasantly crisp, which is welcome because even during the autumn season down here it can still be hot. A few leaves blow along the sidewalk, but they might be from last fall. I wonder if Molly would put herself to good use and create a Hogwash Holler beautification committee. I pocket the idea for later because I can't take my eyes off Tallula. Even though she's tired, T is the prettiest woman in town. In the world, if I have anything to say about it.

My concerns about my future and the mystery on my hands drift away. Lengthening my spine, I say, "Tallula, I have this afternoon and evening off. If you rest up a little, would you like to come on a ride with me?"

"A ride? I'd rather not go in the police SUV if that's what you mean. Like if you're going to arrest me, can I just turn myself in? I'll go willingly."

I chuckle. "T, I dare you to take a motorcycle ride with me." The words echo the ones I spoke long ago.

Her cheeks lift with a smile like she's ready to replay that memory...and maybe make it even better.