“Please tell my boyfriend that,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. Little drops of sweat were cascading down my sides and back. I felt like I was soaking through my shirt.
Jed looked at me in surprise. “Oh, you mean the v—”
I kicked his foot. Idiot. He'd been about to say vampire. In front of our Uber driver.
“…Mill?” Jed asked, blushing a little. Apparently he’d forgotten our present company.
“Yes, him,” I said. I looked away from him, suddenly aware of the fact that I was in the exact same situation that Mill didn’t want me to be in. Cavorting with werewolves. And I felt a little spike of guilt, in spite of the fact that I'd done nothing wrong.
“Why do you say it like that?” Jed asked. “Are you mad at him?” A little grin broke across his lips. “Are you two in a fight?”
“Yes,” I said. “No,” I said, just as fast. “I don’t know. Maybe a little, on and off for, like, the last week or something. He’s been a little sensitive because of…” How could I say it without sounding like a complete moron, but also not giving too much information to little miss nosey in the front? “He’s jealous,” I said finally. “Of you.”
Jed blinked at me. “Wait, he’s jealous of me?”
The driver snorted as she waited at the stop light at the end of the road. “Wait, your boyfriend is jealous of string bean here?” She shook her head. “Figures. Men are always trying to find things to fight about. Don’t you let him tie you down, honey.”
She looked like she had more to say and I doubted any of it was going to be of any immediate use, so I chose to ignore her. “I think he’s jealous of the time we’ve been spending together trying to help Derrick,” I said to Jed. “He doesn’t really approve of…you know…your family’s background —”
“Oh, so he’s a bigot, too?” the driver said, swerving to avoid a pothole.
I groaned. She sounded so snotty, I wanted to strangle her.
“Honey, you need to drop him like he’s hot,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Any man who's as controlling as that is bad news. You need someone who can give you positive vibes and —”
Jed nodded at me, apparently oblivious to the driver’s ranting in the front seat. “I can understand that. We don’t care much for his kind, either. But does he think that I’m interested in courting you?”
I nodded. The driver was still going on about Mill. I heard the words “tolerance” and “acceptance” thrown in there. I mentally boxed her out of the conversation and she didn't seem to realize it.
“I think he's a little jealous he can’t be out helping me with all this stuff during the day,” I said. “Plus, he just said that all…people…like you are dangerous.”
“He really is a bigot,” said the driver in the front. “'Dangerous'? Do we need to report this to the police, honey?”
“Shouldn't you stay in your lane?” I shot her a nasty look. “Literally, I mean. You're swerving all over the place.”
She corrected and shot me a face-melting look in the rearview, which I promptly ignored.
“Well, he doesn’t have anything to worry about from me,” Jed said, tugging proudly on his suspenders. “I have no interest in you at all. You dress too provocatively for my taste, English. And my father would disown me if we became entangled in any inappropriate way.”
I looked down at myself. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Provocative? I was also sweating like a pig at this point, which maybe made the clothes cling a little, but it was hardly the stuff of a glamor mag or a Sports Illustrated photo shoot. Hell, I wasn't even a good candidate for the page 64 throwaway picture in a teen magazine.
“Even a hair bonnet wouldn’t be able to contain all that, woman,” he said to me, pointing to…all of me, as if in answer to the question I was asking myself.
I snorted. “Funny.”
“Excuse me?” our driver said, wheeling around in her seat.
“Just pull over, please,” I said, as she started to drift into the other lane again and I finally lost patience. I could see the diner ahead anyway and suddenly the desire for safety outweighed the need to be dry. Because I wasn't, anyway, at this point and wouldn't be, ever, in this car. “I’ll leave you a good review if you just pull over now.”
She was fuming, muttering about the disgusting pigs that men were and Jed was looking at her like she was some sort of alien. The tires bumped against the curb as she pulled over and I raced to get out before she could throw any more choice words his way. The squeal of her tires was over quickly, unlike the smell, which lingered after we'd gotten out of the car. The driver gave Jed the finger as she pulled away, a gesture that left him speechless.
“What kind of bee was in her bonnet?” he asked.
“Who knows?” I shook my head, watching her go. I was allowed one lie once in a while, right? Because after that ride, I had no intention of giving her a good review.
Chapter 23
“In hindsight, maybe ordering an Uber this far out wasn't such a great idea after all,” I said as we walked the last hundred or so yards to Yoder’s.
“It’s all right, Cassie, you couldn’t have known that the person they'd send to pick us up would be like that.” He snickered. “I could have done better.”
“Yeah, but it's not like you know how to drive.”
He grinned. “Well, don’t tell my father, but a year or so back, one of the English that drives for my cousin’s family tried to give me driving lessons. We nearly scared the cattle to death. Father would’ve skinned me alive if he found out.”
I laughed. “I would imagine that's a big no-no for you Amish. Driving, I mean.”
He nodded and we fell into silence. The restaurant was just across the crosswalk and I could hear the hum of its air conditioning now. It gave me a little pang of joy across the skin. My shirt was clinging to me like I was its own cloth-y lifeboat in a sea of certain moisture. And death, maybe, because it was hanging on for dear life.
“I don’t see how you guys stand it,” I said. “Not having AC.”
Jed grinned. “You get used to the heat. It’s the worst in August and September. A lot of us start using generators for fans and wall air conditioning units. It’s just too hot otherwise.”
“Isn't that a violation of your...uhh...religious laws or something?”
If he had an answer, he didn't share it, instead falling into silence as we stepped in the front door of the restaurant. Immediately we were bathed in cool air and the smell of peanut butter pie baking. “Oh my gosh, that smells so good,” I said.
There was a pretty waitress behind the counter, her dirty blonde hair in a high ponytail, some dark purple streaks in the underside of her hair. She was super tan and fit, maybe a runner or biker in her spare time. She grinned at us and the lone tattoo on the inside of her wrist and her lack of a head scarf answered my internal question about whether or not it would only be Amish people who worked here at the restaurant.
“You're smelling the pie, right?” she asked with a smile as we approached the counter. “It’s our best seller. Table for two?” She pulled some menus from below the cash register.
“Uh, no, thanks,” I said. “At least not yet. Though I might have one of those peanut butter pies to go.”
Jed gave me an amused look.
“We had a couple of questions for you,” I said. “Maybe you could help us?”
“Sure, what’s up?” she asked, the menus falling back down like the flag in a drag race.
“Is there anyone here that was working last night?” I asked.
“Let me check,” she asked, then disappeared back into the kitchen.
The restaurant was super busy for lunchtime, a pleasant hum over the classic Americana diner decor. It seemed like the sort of place that was always busy. Almost every table was filled and all of the food looked amazing and like it came out of a grandmother’s kitchen.
“Do you guys eat here?” I asked Jed.
He shrugged. “Sometimes
, especially if we’re having a meal with some family from out of town.”
“You guys live here all year round, right?”
“Not all Amish here do, but for us this is home, yes.” He nodded.
The girl with the purple streaks in her hair returned. A dark haired, dark eyed girl following closely behind, her gaze glued to us from the minute she walked out of the kitchen. She was a couple of years older than me, with tanned, olive skin. Her thick hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head and she had a little bit of makeup on, including some dark red lipstick.
“This is Blanca,” said the girl with the purple-blonde hair. “She was here last night.”
“Awesome,” I said. “Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?”
“Sure.” Blanca gave me a wary look, but she followed us away from the counter back toward the door, so we were out of earshot.
“I was wondering if you maybe saw the mugging that happened outside the restaurant last night,” I said in a low voice.
“Ohhh.” Blanca’s eyes got wide. “Yeah, I did. Are you guys with the cops or something?” She gave Jed a skeptical look.
“Um, no,” I said. I wasn’t a cop. I wasn’t a PI. I was a high schooler. I had no weight behind me at all, I realized, not for the first time. “It was the grandfather of a friend of mine who was attacked last night,” I said as earnestly as I could. Still close to the truth was tough here, but necessary. “I just wanted to get some details so I can help the family out.”
“That’s awfully sweet of you,” Blanca said.
“I figured it was best to handle it in the way that the Amish handle it,” I said with a small shrug, glancing over at Jed. He nodded in agreement.
Well, maybe not exactly. Because this branch of the Amish might handle these sorts of problems by eating their enemies.
“It’s complicated,” I said. “I don’t want to bore you with the details. The family is just trying to find anything they can about the guy who attacked him, you know?”
Blanca looked a little nervous but loosened up after a second. The friend pity story always worked. “All right, yeah. What do you want to know?”
“I know it’s probably a long shot, but did you see a red Dodge Challenger go by last night?” I almost held my breath in hope.
Blanca’s brow furrowed and she groaned. “Yeah. I did. It pulled in here, actually.”
I looked over at Jed. He seemed to be standing up a little straighter and was I imagining it or had his ears lengthened like a dog's. I felt like beneath his pants, he was sprouting a tail just to wag at this piece of news. “Did you see who was in that car?” he asked.
“Two men,” she said. “They came in here looking for something to eat.”
“Really?” I asked. “What did they look like?”
She tapped her chin, shifting her weight between her feet. “Well, one guy was really tall and kind of gangly, like super thin. He had short brown hair and a close-trimmed beard and he was wearing a bright green T-shirt, like neon, blinding, ouch, offends my eyes kind of color. The guy with him was a lot bigger, like muscle wise. He had hair that was kind of wild, salt and pepper. He had this kind of…weird look in his eyes. I was worried he was drunk or something. Angular face, pointed chin,” she sort of traced an outline of her own face with the tip of her finger.
Jed stiffened beside me and I looked over at him. Boom. Finally. That second description was definitely Thomas Bauer.
“So, what happened when they came in?” I asked.
Blanca’s face soured. “I don’t really know. There was something off about them, you know? Like weird vibes, big time. The funny guy was wearing sunglasses most of the time, maybe to hide his funky eyes.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, maybe he just had them checked or something.”
Good explanation, I thought, but it was more likely that Thomas didn’t want anyone in his old community to recognize him on accident.
“Anyway, they came in and I seated them. They seemed pretty down, so I did my thing as the nice waitress by trying to cheer them up a little, you know? It took a few tries, but eventually, they actually started talking to me.”
My heart skipped a beat. Good, good. Maybe we were finally getting somewhere.
“The guy with short hair was really nice, a lot nicer than his friend. Once I made it past that shade of neon green I realized he was wearing a T-shirt for an event for a CNA company. And I was like, ‘Wow, you’re a CNA? That’s so crazy, I’m going to school to be a CNA.’” She looked right at me. “Isn't that crazy?”
“That is...an interesting coincidence,” I said, not sure what kind of a response she was looking for there. It must have been all right because she kept going.
“So he started talking to me about it,” Blanca said getting pensive. “He said he’s been in nursing for about twenty years now.”
Bingo. “Oh?” I asked.
She nodded her head excitedly. “Safety Harbor Medical Care in Clearwater. Been around for almost fifty years. When I commented on that, he said it was his dad’s company.”
“Did his friend say anything?” Jed asked. Was his butt wagging?
Blanca’s eyes narrowed. “Not really. He sort of nodded his head a few times. I think that he was just hungry, to be honest. Or maybe stoned. Either way, not much of a talker.”
“I see.” I grinned at her. “Well, thank you, Blanca. We really appreciate your help.”
“Hey,” she asked. “Is the guy who was attacked okay?”
I nodded. “He’s fine. Stubborn enough to not talk about it.”
“Oh, good.” She looked over her shoulder as a group of six or seven people stepped into the restaurant. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but I really need to get back to work.”
I thanked her and Jed and I stepped back outside into the scorching sun. Sweat already started to preemptively roll down my back, as though my skin could sense in advance that I was heading back into the oven that was Florida.
“So…his friend lives in Clearwater,” Jed said, lifting his hat to mop his brow with his sleeve. “Safety Harbor, more specifically.”
“We have something to go on again,” I said, nodding. “I find it interesting that his friend is a CNA.”
“What does that stand for?” Jed asked. “I was lost for that whole part of the conversation.”
“Certified Nursing Assistant,” I said.
Jed's eyes turned to thin slits as he pondered that. “So...like a nurse's secretary?”
“I don't really know,” I said. “I'm not sure my dad works with CNAs. I've heard him talk about LPNs. I asked him about them one time and he laughed and said it stands for 'Low Paid Nurse', but I'm not sure what a CNA does. Maybe assists a nurse.” It was my turn to ponder. “Would that be a beneficial thing for a werewolf? To have a friend who has medical training?”
“Oh, yeah. Especially when he isn’t part of the pack anymore,” Jed said.
I pulled out my phone again and I caught a strange look from him. “What?”
“Are you going to summon another car for us?” he asked.
I snickered at the word summon. “Yeah,” I said. “And hopefully this time I'll conjure up a nicer, less judgmental, more sane driver.”
“Wow.” His eyes grew wide. “Technology is really like magic. Maybe that’s why all the Elders hate it so much.”
Chapter 24
Safety Harbor Medical Care was located in an ugly, mustard yellow building straight out of the seventies with a wide, overhanging flat roof. The walls were barren and it was about as inviting as a prison. It was a little less well-guarded, though, fortunately.
“This is a hospital?” Jed asked. “Why is it so small?”
“It’s not a hospital,” I said. “It's an...office building? Clinic?” I honestly wasn't sure. It looked like it might have been trying to be both, with a dash of medical supply store thrown in for good measure. I rolled my eyes. “Doesn't matter. Come on, let’s just go inside.”
&n
bsp; The door made a ding sound when we stepped through, which made Jed nearly jump out of his skin. He whipped his head all around, trying to find the source of the otherworldly sound. “What the devil was that?”
“Just the doorbell, don't get your tail in a twist,” I said.
The waiting room was small, with two rows of metal framed chairs that looked about as comfortable as sitting on rocks. There was a small desk behind a sliding glass window, which opened at the sound of the bell.
“Hi, go ahead and have a seat,” said the woman with the round face and thick glasses. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Thanks,” I said and sat down on one of the faded faux leather seats. This had the feel of a doctor's office and made me wonder what the hell they did here. The whole room smelled like bleach and cheap rose candles. The table beside me was filled with magazines that looked like they were new last year and the small flat screen television had the local news station on.
“…gave up the chase after a short time, surrendering to the police. Police sources confirm there was an undisclosed quantity of heroin in the trunk. This is the latest in a series of confiscated opioids—”
Jed’s eyes were fixated on the screen, wide and glassy. He was mesmerized.
I wished that the waitress had gotten the name of Thomas’s friend. That would make it easier for me to ask for him when we got to the window. Instead I was going to have to do...well, something else.
I sighed heavily, my foot wiggling with impatience. This was not the way that I wanted to spend my Thursday. I mean, school wouldn’t have been any more entertaining, but at least I wouldn’t be chasing a werewolf all over the central western part of Florida.
The woman at the desk slid open her little window and I jumped back up to my feet.
“Sorry about that,” the woman said with a wide grin. “What can I help you with?”
I whacked Jed in the arm.
He winced. “Hey, what was that for?”
I headed toward the front desk, Jed grumbling as he followed after me.
“Hi,” I said, putting on my best good-girl grin. The one I’d save for Mom when I really, really wanted something. The one that she was immune to now, but still worked on Dad. “I'm looking for someone who worked here.”
Heir of the Dog (Liars and Vampires Book 6) Page 11