Eight #2
“Whoa, there.” Jude steadied me on my feet, eyebrows shooting to the sky. “I thought you’d… uh… be busy, what with robbing the cradle.”
“Not funny.” I really was in no mood to be teased right now.
“Kind of is funny. Is the Spider-Man costume legit, or are those just his footie pajamas for beddy-bye time? Does he still sleep in his childhood bedroom, or…?”
“Again, not laughing.” I pressed my lips in a thin line. Sometime much later I’d find this funny. Now? Not so much.
“My mistake.” Jude raised both hands in mock surrender and then he pushed his black-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Does this mean we’re going to have a webslinger wedding to plan?”
“No. And when you run and tell Oscar that I’m an actual human adult woman and I date, mention that I’m not in the market to settle down.”
Jude cocked his head to one side. “I’m not a snitch, and I’m not keeping tabs on you.”
“Really?” I crossed my arms over my chest, tapping an annoyed Converse against the pebble path.
“So you just randomly show up where I am, always concerned, always asking nosy questions? Doesn’t have anything to do with Oscar being worried I might embarrass him in front of the whole town and tank the election? ”
A flash of guilt passed across Jude’s face. So they’d had a conversation about me embarrassing Oscar. Me potentially affecting the outcome of the election. Wow. That hurt my feelings more than I liked to admit.
What if Jude had been the one to plant the tag? Or Oscar? What better way to keep track of the loose cannon? So much for sending Oscar a picture of that, too, then. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t trust anyone.
“Oscar is stressed out, sure, but I’m not doing his bidding,” Jude said, kicking a toe of his pristine new Adidas into the little pebbles beneath. “I know you don’t believe this, but I actually care about how you’re doing.”
“Right. Sure you do.” I let out a skeptical sigh.
“You’re really mocking the guy who learned Mozart’s Requiem for your spider’s funeral?”
I had to laugh a little at that.
Jude studied me. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Jude asked. “Why is Russo here? Is it personal or…”
Well, that was a good question. Was it personal? Maybe.
“The Canceled Killer told Chicago PD that he has unfinished business with me. Russo thinks the Canceled Killer is in town.”
Jude blinked fast, absorbing the information.
“The Canceled Killer followed you here.” Jude’s face turned pale. “He is toying with you. And so he really might be after Allen Gordon. And you.”
I exhaled. “Yeah, Gordon isn’t the only one who got skull emojis. I did, too,” I admitted.
Jude’s eyes widened in shock.
“We need to get you into protective custody,” Jude said, his entire tone shifting into serious mode, the kind of focus he usually saved for a microscope.
“This isn’t good, Ella. Not good at all.
” He adjusted his black-framed glasses on his nose.
“You should never be alone. Seriously. Do you know that? You should go live with Oscar.”
I almost laughed at the thought. Oscar kept his tidy three-bedroom home about a mile from the lake, deep in the woods, in pristine condition.
There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere in his house, and his lawn was perfectly evenly cut because on the weekends he got out there with a magnifying glass and a pair of scissors.
If I lived there and even left a dirty coffee mug in the sink, he’d have a fit.
Plus, I would not be responsible for what might happen if I had to live with the continual smug comments.
If we lived together, we’d both end up dead, and the Canceled Killer wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
“I can’t live with Oscar. He’s a neat freak.”
“This is your safety we’re talking about,” Jude said. “You need someone with eyes on you who you can trust. If this really is the Canceled Killer, then we can’t take any chances.” He paused. “How do you know you’re being targeted?”
I sighed. I didn’t want to talk about the Ready or not messages. But I could tell by the stubborn bent of Jude’s chin that he wasn’t going to let go of this bone until I came clean. He studied me through his black-framed glasses.
“I’ve gotten messages from CanceledKill as well,” I admitted. I showed Jude my socials and the skull emojis. His eyes widened behind the lenses of his glasses.
“What’s Oscar doing about this?” he demanded.
“He’s looking into it,” I said. “He’s checking with one of his Marine buddies. A federal agent?”
Jude nodded as he scrolled through my social media.
“These trolls are all real assholes,” Jude said as he thumbed through all the horrible comments. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. But, anyway, Russo is here now.” Russo was probably my best hope at staying safe. Except he seemed to have a habit of disappearing when I needed him most. “We’re going to catch the Canceled Killer together.”
A light burned in Jude’s eyes as the Tetris pieces clicked into place.
“By using you as bait?” I didn’t deny this claim fast enough, and Jude pounced. “Of course he is. I knew it.” Jude groaned. “That’s dangerous. That’s too damn dangerous,” he said, his voice growing uncharacteristically heated. “No one should be putting you in that position…”