“I thought this place gave you the creeps after they found Eric smoking his last bong before he found his big one in sky,” Neely Kate said.

“Neely Kate.” I shot her a dirty look. “It still does, but I never bought Detective Taylor’s explanation about Eric’s death. Maybe we could ask a few questions.”

Neely Kate turned to me in surprise. “You want to ask questions a month after the incident?”

“Yeah, it can’t hurt, right?”

“Sounds good to me, but what are you hoping to find?”

“A clue to help us figure out who killed him.”

“I know we’re good and all, but how many mysteries do you expect us to solve at one time?”

“They’re all connected, Neely Kate. I just know it.”

“Okay,” she drawled. “Since you feel so strongly about this one, I’ll let you take the lead.”

“Good,” I said, flashing a smile. A couple of months ago, I would have shied away from this. Now I was eager to find answers. “But I need to check in with Mason.”

I pulled my phone out of my purse to text him again, but the burner phone caught my eye first. I frowned when I saw I had missed a text from Jed.

We’re on. Tonight. Our usual spot. Eight-thirty.

“It’s tonight,” I said, sounding breathless. “We’re gonna meet Jed at eight-thirty.”

“You’re lettin’ me come?” Excitement filled her voice.

“What? No!”

“You just said we’re gonna meet Jed. Not I’m. You want me to come. Just admit it.”

I snuck a glance at her, worrying my bottom lip. “It’s selfish and wrong of me to bring you.”

Her smile fell, and she grew serious. “No. We’re partners. And we’re good at this. You need me now more than ever. Who else will have your back?”

“Jed will have my back. He was there with me when I met Hattie on Friday.”

Her mouth made a perfect O. “Why would Jed be there? Were you meeting her as Lady?”

“No,” I scowled. “Skeeter convinced me to call Jed if I thought I needed backup … even in my personal life. Hattie was desperate for me to meet her there with the coded journal, but she just seemed kind of crazy. It seemed equally crazy to agree, but I wanted answers. So I called Jed and asked him to stay in the shadows as backup.”

“He didn’t do a very good job,” she grumbled.

“He saved my life and got shot in the process.”

“What?”

“He tried to tackle me to keep Beverly from shooting me. Every time I’m the Lady in Black, Jed is always there, watchin’ over me. Protectin’ me … even from Skeeter.” I paused, holding her gaze. “I trust him with my life.” I didn’t tell her that Skeeter had effectively made him my bodyguard by instructing him to protect my life above all others—even Skeeter’s. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to that. I still wasn’t sure how to react to that.

She stuck out her bottom lip. “Well, I still want to come.”

I took a deep breath. Bringing her seemed so wrong, yet something deep inside told me I needed her. Maeve had told me to trust my instincts, so I was doing just that. “Okay. I suspect if I tell you no, you’ll do something crazy and get hurt trying to sneak up on us.” I narrowed my eyes. “Jed won’t be happy.”

“Too bad.”

“Nevertheless, he’s in charge of watchin’ my back. You’ll do as he says.”

A smug grin lit up her eyes with mischief.

I pointed my finger at her nose. “I know that look. This is non-negotiable, Neely Kate. Jed has experience with these guys, and I suspect they’ll find you expendable.” I shivered at the thought. “Jed will tell you what to do to help keep both of us safe.”

She scowled. “Fine.”

“Promise me!”

She rolled her eyes and held up her pinky finger. After I locked mine with hers, she lifted her eyebrows and said with plenty of sass, “Pinky promise. Happy?”

“No,” I said, dropping my hand. “But it’ll have to do. Now let’s go look for answers about Eric.”

We walked inside and headed to the counter. I was happy to see there were only two other people in the restaurant, an older couple reading a newspaper together while they nursed their soft drinks.

I hadn’t been in since Eric’s death, and it felt strange not to see him there. While I knew he’d robbed several places trying to get money to outbid Skeeter, he’d never struck me as a murderer. Maybe I could help clear his name if he were truly innocent.

An older teen stood in front of a register. His nametag read Eugene. “Welcome to Burger Shack. May I take your order, please?” He couldn’t have sounded more bored if he had been reading the ingredients off a cereal box.

“I’ll take a hot fudge sundae,” I said, then glanced back at Neely Kate.

“Vanilla ice cream mixed with Oreo cookies, then drizzled with chocolate syrup, but not too much. Three cherries on top. Not one. Not two. Not even four. Three.” She leaned forward. “It better be exactly as I ordered it, Eugene. If you get any of it wrong, you’ll have to start all over again.”

The guy gave her a dumbfounded stare. “Wow. You sure do take your ice cream seriously.”

She put her hand on her hip and cocked her head. “You have no idea.”