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"You know, Boss, about now, you could totally stop apologizing." Putting her feet up, Wendy looked down the barrel of her Noisy Cricket (Which actually existed. How awesome was that?) and watched the Middleman pacing a perfect line back and forth in front of Ida's desk. "Aunt Jess is totally fine with it."
"Well, I'm not, Dubby!" He stopped, hands on hips, looking utterly, well, bleak. Horrified. Embarrassed. Really, the man looked like his dog had just died then experienced a miraculous resurrection before dying all over again. "Jessica Fletcher is a legend of page and interrogation room alike. Why that woman has single-handedly solved more murders than some Middlemen."
Wendy's eyebrow crept up. "Present company -- "
He sniffed. "Apples and catfish, Dubby. I've hardly had a career to match Mrs. Fletcher's as of yet. However, I'm sure in several decades -- "
"Right," Wendy agreed. "Look, she's okay. The scaly-what's-it got its autograph and you said that its tentacle would grow back. So everything is coming up aces, right?"
The Middleman sighed, sitting down. "That's not the point, Dubby. It's – I've had such a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for your aunt. The one time I finally have an opportunity to meet her and express said admiration and what happens? A near miss with another apocalypse ruins the whole goshdarn thing." He harrumphed and folded his arms.
The Middleman, it seemed, was above a great many things. Having himself a spectacular pout? Kind of not one of them. "It certainly doesn't help matters that that Hazarian prince ruined my copy of The Corpse Danced At Midnight. It was a first edition, Dubby! A first edition."
Oh yeah, totally spectacular pout. Wendy hoped Ida had the surveillance system on. Photographic proof of this one was absolutely going to be a must.
That said, she decided to take just a little pity on him. Digging around in her bag, Wendy produced the book and waved it at him. "I was going to save this until later, but you're kind of leaking pitiful all over the place and you know how Ida gets about that, so -- " she got up. "Before she left, Aunt Jess asked me to give this to you."
At the sight of the cover, the Middleman sat straight. "Dubby, is that -- "
"Oh, it is," Wendy agreed. "One first edition copy of The Corpse Danced At Midnight and," she flipped the cover open, "it comes complete with autograph."
"Hemingway's boat, Dubby," the Middleman yelped. He reached out, taking the book from her with the utmost reverence, and oh God, he looked like he might cry. "It's personalized."
"You're not going to hug it – or me – are you?" Wendy asked, taking one cautious step back. "Because there is a line."
"No, no, of course not, Wendy," the Middleman said. He sniffed just a little, running one hand over the page. "The woman is a treasure, an absolute treasure."
"Yeah," Wendy said, grinning. "She's the best."
-
"So, I take it your young man liked the gift?"
Rolling onto her back, Wendy kicked one foot overhead and laughed. "He's not my young man, Aunt Jess, he's my boss." She'd been thinking about introducing Tyler to Aunt Jess, but, well, that way lay an interrogation that would make Manservant Neville weak in the knees. It just wouldn't be fair at this point.
Besides, it was Aunt Jess. Wendy really liked Tyler and, well, Aunt Jess did have a small problem with corpses.
Some day, though, she was totally going to ask her about Uncle Frank. That was a story that Wendy wanted to hear again.
Toeing off her socks, Wendy stretched out. "And yes, he did like the gift. A lot. When I left, he was still staring at the cover."
Aunt Jess laughed softly. "I'm glad. You'll have to bring him up here sometime. If you're not careful, you know, Middlemen can be very prone to tunnel vision."
It didn't surprise Wendy at all that Jess knew about the Middlemen. Not one bit. Aunt Jessica knew everybody and went everywhere. Somewhere in all that she had to have run into at least one of them.
Wendy thought of Guy, pictured Aunt Jess around that time, and cringed. Oh God. Not something she wanted to think about. Totally not something she wanted to think about. Not enough bleach or Gut Wrencher games in the world to rid her of that mental image.
She made a face, trying to dismiss it. Guy wouldn't have even turned Aunt Jess's head. Not with Uncle Frank around.
Wendy smiled and closed her eyes. "Yeah, they can be. I'm not sure about bringing him to Cabot Cove, though. The only thing you haven't had lately is an alien invasion and, uh, the Hazarians seem to really like you."
"They're a lovely people," Jessica agreed. "The slime on their tentacles, however, does the most horrendous things to my rose bushes. It's why I had to ask them to stop coming to the house. They turned my garden into an utter disaster zone. To say nothing of what happened when they parked their ship on the bluff. Seth is still muttering about that."
"Seth mutters about everything," Wendy said. "He loves it." He kind of reminded her of Ida sometimes and, yeah, wasn't that just a cheery thought?
"That he does," Jessica said. "Well, unfortunately, dear, I have to go. There's a small problem at the marina and the sheriff is on his way to get me."
Wendy groaned. "Another one?"
There was a small, somewhat rueful pause before Jessica admitted, with some chagrin,"Yes, a contractor from Manhattan. Such a tragedy."
"Okay, that does it, we are totally coming up there," Wendy said. "I want to know how you do it."
"A lady never tells, Wendy," Jessica said, brisk but sweet. "A lady never tells."