So Sweet a Changeling: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 6)

Chapter Nine: Lauren, Sunday

Lauren was a little jealous about that herself, as if her own inability to squirt made her less appreciative of Joe's attributes. For his part, Joe had confessed to Lauren that he felt like a dildo on legs whenever he was with her, and that Tej focused more on her own pleasure than on his when she was with him, making him feel a little used. Poor guy; a beautiful brown goddess used him as a pogo stick and he felt hard done by?

Yes, their little group was messed up, but somehow they found a way to make it work. Communication, the pre-game negotiations and the post-game recaps, was what prevented suspicion and hard feelings later, otherwise their whole group would have collapsed into bitterness and enmity by now, and there would be no more LSDC.

As if her thoughts had conjured one of them, her phone buzzed, and she found a text from Rachel.

The next time Al goes over to Agnes' place, I'm having Sunny and Tej over for my own fun.

Lauren smirked at that and typed back: Aw. Feeling left behind?

Yes, goddammit! 

I'd come help you with that now if I could, but I'm busy making a slideshow for my dead father-in-law.

Sorry, babe. Didn't mean to burden you with my own problems.

No worries, I wanted some distraction anyway.

How are you doing?

Is it bad that I haven't cried yet?

You can't help what you feel. If Joe's dad was a dick to you, you don't have to be sad he's dead.

Shouldn't I be sad for Joe's loss, though?

Huh. Maybe. But again, you can't force it.

Lauren thought about what to type next. Did she want to bring this up, now?

So... Logan.

Yeah. Fuck me, I didn't see that coming.

Me neither. No surprise about Harpreet, she's turning into her mother, and you know how we both feel about her.

Yup. But, baby, Naomi, too?

Lauren sighed. That, I'm not so pleased about.

You know you were kissing Joe at Naomi's age.

Yes, but Joe was my age. Your boy is a man now. No surprise both girls want him, but still.

It reminds me of when I had that crush on Johnny.

But there are laws against this kind of thing, now, and for good reason. I like Logan but he could hurt Naomi badly. Harpreet, too. And it wouldn't even have to be on purpose.

True. Shit. I have to have the talk with Logan, don't I.

I don't envy you.

Thanks, babe. Eyeroll emoji. No other texts arrived, and Lauren sighed in resignation and got back to work.

Once she finished scanning the pictures of Umberto from their collection, she scanned the pictures of him she'd taken from Al's photo albums, and while she did that she had another look at the four pictures with that weird murder confession written in chalk on the pavement of the church parking lot. She'd promised to have a closer look at the pictures, and they did intrigue her, but she didn't know what she'd be able to find out about them after more than thirty years; the first thing that jumped out at her about the message was that they, whomever Sadie T. Diamond was addressing in those photos, were supposed to find her thirty-five years after those chalk drawings had been made, which was probably about now. That alone irritated her, and she wished she could have gotten her hands on these photos earlier. Could Al really not remember having taken these? If they'd formed the Lawrence Street Detective Club by this time, wouldn't this kind of mystery have been right up their alley?