To Thine Own Self Be True

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Authors: Judy Clemens
Tags: Fiction / Mystery & Detective / General
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orange and red butterfly tattooed on her pale cheekbone. Creeping up her neck from under her shirt collar were the tops of several varieties of flowers.
    “Oh, Rusty,” she said softly. “I can hardly bear it about Mandy.” Her painted nails clutched Rusty’s arm, then fell away.
    Rusty studied her face. “Would it be okay if we asked you some questions about her? About Wolf?”
    She glanced at me, and at the tattoo on my neck.
    “Stella Crown,” I said.
    She gasped. “But you were the last one to see them!”
    I tried not to show my dismay. “Yes, ma’am. Yes, I was.”
    “And this is Nick,” Rusty said, jutting his chin toward him. “Stella’s friend.”
    “Nice to meet you,” she said.
    Rusty put his hand on her frail-looking shoulder. “This is Jewel Spurgeon.”
    “Hi, Jewel,” Nick said, smiling.
    “You touching my woman?” A bellowing man hurtled toward us down the hallway, his hair flowing behind him. A Fu Manchu mustache drooped over his mouth, and his face sparkled with numerous piercings. I was about to step protectively in front of Rusty when the man lunged forward and hugged my friend so hard I thought his ribs might crack.
    “Where you been, man?” the guy said.
    “Around,” Rusty gasped.
    “And you brought friends!”
    I was next to receive the hug, and Nick accepted his with grace. In fact, I could see a smile niggling at the corners of his mouth.
    “Mickey, honey,” Jewel said. “They’re here about Wolf and Mandy.”
    “Oh, no,” Mickey said, his voice lowering several decibels. “I just can’t believe it.”
    “They want to ask us some about them,” Jewel said.
    “Well, what are we standing here for, then?” Mickey said. “Who wants to stand up all day?”
    He herded us into their living room, a space decorated with an eclectic collection of furs, velvet paintings, and Harley knick-knacks. I took a seat on a leather and chrome chair beside a lava lamp, while Rusty dropped onto a harvest gold recliner. Nick chose to stand. Jewel perched primly on the edge of a flowered couch, but Mickey hovered over us.
    “Something to drink? Soda? Beer?”
    “No, thanks, man,” Rusty said.
    Mickey spun toward me and I shook my head. Nick thanked him, too, but refused anything.
    “Relax,” Rusty said. “We’re not here to put you out, just to ask some questions.”
    Mickey sat close enough to Jewel she had to wiggle a bit to get out from under the side of his leg, and he put his arm around her. “How come you’re asking?”
    Rusty jerked his chin toward me. “You already know Stella’s involved. She was there when Wolf disappeared and Mandy…” He took a breath. “So now she wants to help the cops find Wolf, before it’s too late.”
    Mickey peered at me through narrowed eyes. “The cops? I don’t want no cops.”
    I held up my hands. “I’m not a cop. I just want to do whatever I can to get Wolf home.”
    “You don’t see any cops here, do you, Mick?” Rusty said, an edge to his voice. “I wouldn’t bring the Man to your house. You know that.”
    And I’d suggested it earlier. Talk about dumb.
    Mickey looked at me again for a long moment, and his face finally relaxed. “Sorry, Rusty. I’m just…it’s been rough. We’ve been trying not to think too hard about Mandy and Wolf.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “We called Mandy’s mom and offered to keep Billy, us being his godparents and all, but he’s best staying put with her for now, poor little tyke.”
    Jewel sniffed and wiped an eye with a carefully manicured finger, a gem of some sort shining on her middle nail.
    “You’re good friends with the family?” I asked.
    Mickey pointed at some wedding photos displayed on top of a glass and stone coffee table. “Wolf was best man at our wedding. He and I grew up together, on the same block in Lansdale. Never lost touch except a couple years when I was in the army.”
    I leaned over and searched the faces in the biggest picture, a wedding

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