Marnette led Frankie to an equally overdone “living room,” where the mounted TV was meant to be hidden behind a swinging portrait of two kissing cherubs. Vern lounged on a very uncomfortable-looking couch, watching professional bowling. “What’s going on?” he asked, glaring at her.

  “I was hoping to talk to you about Jared,” Frankie said, noting that she had not been invited to sit.

  “I’ve already talked to your mama, and I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her. Leave my son alone,” Marnette barked.

  Vern sighed. “We’ve told you, Frankie. Jared hasn’t been out to your family’s place for years.”

  “Yeah, you’ve told me that. The problem is, it’s not true. Someone has played several pranks at McCready’s recently, and we’re very lucky that no one got hurt. That person dumped over a cage full of bait crickets, setting them loose in the tackle shop. They’ve put hot sauce in the ketchup bottles—”

  “I’m assuming that you have proof that Jared did this?” Vern sneered. “Because I don’t think I’d go around town sayin’ things like that unless I had proof.”

  Frankie breathed deeply. “You’re right. I don’t have any proof that Jared is doing these things, other than Jared taunting me about our ‘difficulties’ after the fact, but—”

  “My Jared wouldn’t taunt you. He doesn’t even like talking to you.” Marnette sniffed. “He’s scared of you, has been since he was little.”

  “If only,” Frankie said. “We’ve seen your son, with our own eyes, trying to break into the funeral home.”

  “But you don’t have photos,” Marnette said smugly. “You don’t have video. It’s just your word against ours, and we’re not the creepy family that plays with dead bodies. Who do you think people are gonna believe?”

  Frankie took a deep breath while shaking her head. Telling Marnette that her parenting style was as useful as a glass hammer would only derail the conversation . . . more.

  “Look, let’s just say for the sake of argument that Jared isn’t causing any problems at McCready’s. Could you do me a personal favor and keep a closer eye on him for the next few weeks? Keep him closer to home? That way, when we have more ‘difficulties,’ I can come to you and ask about it, and you can say, ‘Impossible, I was with Jared every single minute of that evening, and he never left the house.’ And that will narrow my search.”

  “Are you saying I don’t know how to supervise my own child?” Marnette demanded.

  “I’m saying that if you would like to prove me wrong and make me look like a jackass, which I know would please you very much, keep Jared closely supervised over the next few weeks.”

  Marnette slapped her hand down on her carefully antiqued coffee table. “And I’m saying that I don’t appreciate some childless weirdo telling me how to parent. If you breathe one word of these silly, stupid accusations to anybody, we’re gonna sue you for defamation of character.”

  Frankie thought of Peggy at the Rise and Shine, and whether she would testify to the sort of “character” Jared was known for at the high school.

  Vern nodded, adding, “And it would be real hard for you to hold on to your job as coroner if you’ve got a lawsuit filed against you by the county manager. Your boss.”

  “So you’re telling me that there’s nothing I can say to you that will persuade you to stop Jared’s behavior?”

  “I’m telling you that there’s nothing you could say that would convince me the sky is blue,” Marnette shot back.

  Well, she could honestly tell her father that she’d tried. If the Lewises weren’t going to be reasonable, she didn’t have to try to reason with them.

  Frankie smiled so sweetly it made her teeth hurt. “All right, then. I’ll be going.”

  “That’s it?” Vern asked, frowning at her.

  “Yep,” Frankie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you’re not gonna listen, there’s no point in me wasting my breath.”

  “Oh, well, all right. You should go,” Vern told her.

  “Oh, I’m going.”

  “And don’t go talkin’ to Jared, either,” Marnette told her as she walked back toward the door.

  “Marnette, when Jared eventually gets caught doing something awful that lands him in a cell with a roommate named Big Larry, I want you to remember something. People blame the mother for a reason.”

  Marnette’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of my house.”

  “Gladly,” Frankie said, slamming the front door behind her.

  She yanked open the van door and slid behind the wheel. She’d tried. She’d tried to work with Jared’s parents instead of against them. She’d tried to appeal to their common sense, their duty as parents. And they’d thrown it back in her face. So anything that happened from here? It was on their heads.

  She put the van in gear and backed out of the driveway, speeding toward home. “Game on, Jared Lewis. Game on.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Molly Harper is the author of two popular series of paranormal romances, the Half-Moon Hollow vampire novels and the Naked Werewolf shifter trilogy. She is also the author of two contemporary series, Southern Eclectic and the Bluegrass ebook series. A former humor columnist and newspaper reporter, she lives in Kentucky with her husband and children. Visit her on the web at mollyharper.com.

  FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:

  Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Molly-Harper

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  SimonandSchuster.com

  Books by Molly Harper

  THE SOUTHERN ECLECTIC SERIES

  Peachy Flippin’ Keen

  Save a Truck, Ride a Redneck

  Sweet Tea and Sympathy

  IN THE WORLD OF HALF-MOON HOLLOW

  Accidental Sire

  Where the Wild Things Bite

  Big Vamp on Campus

  Fangs for the Memories

  The Single Undead Moms Club

  The Dangers of Dating a Rebound Vampire

  I’m Dreaming of an Undead Christmas

  A Witch’s Handbook of Kisses and Curses

  “Undead Sublet” in The Undead in My Bed

  The Care and Feeding of Stray Vampires

  Driving Mr. Dead

  Nice Girls Don’t Bite Their Neighbors

  Nice Girls Don’t Live Forever

  Nice Girls Don’t Date Dead Men

  Nice Girls Don’t Have Fangs

  THE NAKED WEREWOLF SERIES

  How to Run with a Naked Werewolf

  The Art of Seducing a Naked Werewolf

  How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf

  THE BLUEGRASS SERIES

  Snow Falling on Bluegrass

  Rhythm and Bluegrass

  My Bluegrass Baby

  ALSO

  Better Homes and Hauntings

  And One Last Thing . . .

  We hope you enjoyed reading this Simon & Schuster ebook.

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  Pocket Star Books

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  1230 Avenue of the Americas

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Molly Harper White

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address
Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

  First Pocket Star Books ebook edition April 2018

  POCKET STAR BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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  Interior design by Michelle Marchese

  Cover photography © Uwe Krejci/Getty Images

  ISBN 978-1-5011-7894-8

 


 

  Molly Harper, Peachy Flippin' Keen

  (Series: Southern Eclectic # 1.50)

 

 


 

 
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