by Amy Vansant
Charlotte smiled. “Ah. That explains why you haven’t changed your locks. He’d just change them back.”
Seamus had been living with Declan since returning to Charity from Miami several months earlier. If Declan dropped any more hints suggesting Seamus find a place of his own, they wouldn’t be able to walk through the living room for tripping over them.
Seamus worked on Seamus time. But as a private investigator, he’d been able to help Charlotte earn hours towards her detective’s license, so she owed him.
Charlotte sensed movement behind her and hopped away in time to avoid an approaching deer antler.
“Sorry, Miss Charlotte,” said Blade in his husky baritone as he hefted a mounted deer head onto the counter. There was an eye patch slung over the stuffed creature’s left eye, giving it a rakish expression.
An elderly couple, transfixed on the deer and seemingly luminous with glee, trailed behind Blade.
Blade sniffed. “You want me to ring it up?”
Declan stared at the head, his jaw slack. He snapped to attention at the sound of Blade’s question.
“Huh? No, I’ve got it. Thank you, Blade.”
Declan rang up the couple’s prize.
“You never showed us this before,” said the woman to Declan in an accusatory tone.
He looked up from the credit card machine. “The deer?”
She nodded.
“Mrs. Whitmore, that deer has been hanging on the shop wall since I was a little kid.”
The woman shook her head as if she didn’t believe him.
“That can’t be right,” said her husband.
“No,” she agreed.
Declan handed her back her card. “I swear. All Blade did was put an eye patch on it.”
“Well, it was genius.” Mrs. Whitmore turned and beamed at Blade, who grinned back, his mustache stretching twice its length to complete the feat.
Declan scowled as Blade hefted the head and carried it to the car for the Whitmores. The shop bell jingled as he wrestled it through the front door.
“I swear, that thing has been here since I got the place,” said Declan to Charlotte the moment the door closed.
“I believe you.”
“That makes one of you.”
“Why, exactly, did it have a patch over its eye?”
“That was Blade’s idea. The one glass eye was cracked, so he put a patch over it. He’s been introducing it to the customers as Blackdeer’d.”
Charlotte laughed. “You have to admit, the man’s a retail genius.”
“Oh shut up.” Declan snatched his shop keys from the counter and headed for the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
In the parking lot, Declan handed the keys to Blade as the big man headed back toward the shop.
“I’ll be back in a week. If you need anything, you’ve got my number.”
Blade nodded and winked at Charlotte. “Hey, when you get back, Miss Charlotte, remind me to tell you the story of Blackdeer’d, the most fearsome forest pirate in the world.”
Charlotte nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You’ll have to find a new store mascot now.”
He motioned to the store. “There’s a black-tailed deer in the back. I’m going to bring him out and get him a top hat and bow tie.”
“Ha. Black-tailed. I get it. Have a name for him? How about instead of Fred Astaire, call him Fred Astag?”
“Perfect.” Blake held up a hand and they high-fived.
Declan headed for his car, muttering to himself, as Charlotte jogged after him. She hopped in the passenger seat still chuckling at his irritation.
“That Blade. He is just the most charming—”
Declan started his car. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Very funny.”
“I guess we need to go to your house and get your bag?”
He shook his head. “I have a bag packed in the back seat.”
“Perfect.”
As they made the short drive to Pineapple Port to meet the others, Charlotte listed the things she remembered from the North Carolina to-do list. “We’re supposed to paint, I think there’s a bad drain—”
“What is that?” asked Declan as they pulled onto the street where Mariska, Darla and Charlotte lived.
Charlotte scowled. “What’s a drain?”
“No, that.” He pointed out the windshield.
Charlotte spotted an enormous day-glo green bus parked literally on the curb outside Mariska’s house. Whoever had parked it hadn’t stopped in time and it sat listing to the left like a ship run aground.
The hood of the bus was emblazoned with a snake’s face, complete with poison-tipped fangs. Large, yellow eyes stared back at them as they gaped at the vehicle.
“It’s a modified school bus,” said Declan, his voice dropping to an awed whisper as they coasted toward the strange machine.
Declan chose not to pull in to Charlotte’s driveway and instead rolled past the bus so they could survey the full length.
“Are those scales?” asked Charlotte.
A snake-scale pattern covered the body of the bus with The Reptile scrawled in 3-D, blood-red letters.
Mariska, Bob, Darla, and Seamus milled around the back of the vehicle. They waved as Charlotte and Declan arrived beside them.
“Please don’t tell me that’s our ride to North Carolina,” said Declan, putting his car in park. He rested his head on the steering wheel and muttered one word.
“Seamus.”
Charlotte stepped out of the car and stared at The Reptile’s enormous wheels.
“We’re going to have to haul you ladies into that thing with a crane,” she said.
“We can get in just fine. Go get your suitcase,” said Darla.
Charlotte jogged back to her house to retrieve her luggage and Abby, her soft-coated wheaten terrier, who’d been granted the thumbs up to join in. She locked the door and saw Declan had parked his car in her driveway before returning to the bus.
She returned to The Reptile, bag and leash in hand.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s go. Let’s go!” said Mariska, herding the others toward the bus like a sheepdog.
“Where did you get this thing?” asked Charlotte.
Mariska clasped her hands together. “Remember when I said it would be great to find a car that could
fit all of us?”
“Yes. Though I have to admit, at the time I was thinking a van, not a giant mechanical snake bus.”
“That’s what I thought, too, but vans wouldn’t do. The house can only be reached by driving on the beach, so we needed something that could make it through the sand.”
“You mean there’s no road to the house?”
Mariska shook her head. “Just the beach. Isn’t that exciting?”
“I guess. But vans can’t get there?”
“Vans sink in the sand. We needed something with big tires.”
Charlotte kicked one of The Reptile’s tires. “I think we’re safe. But how—”
“I have an old buddy who offered to let us borrow his baby,” said Seamus, appearing at her side.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t have any cars to crush this weekend?”
Seamus shook his head. “My dear girl. The Reptile doesn’t crush cars. She’s totally street legal.”
“She?”
“Of course. She’s a snake.”
“Watch it, buster.”
Seamus laughed and pretended to cower as Charlotte held up a fist.
“Let’s go!” screamed Darla from somewhere on the other side of the bus.
Charlotte circled the vehicle to find Declan with the others.
“We have to film them trying to get into this thing,” she said.
He held up his phone. “Already on it.”
Seamus lifted a panel and pulled a lever hidden in the side of the bus. The doors opened and a set of stairs folded out.
Charlotte pouted. The stairs would make it easy for everyone to enter. “Well
, that’s no fun.”
Declan slipped his phone back into his pocket.
One by one they climbed the stairs into the belly of the snake, each doing his or her best to arrange their bags and sit without stepping on Darla’s miniature dachshund, Turbo, as he tore up and down the center aisle. Mariska and Bob’s dog, Izzy, a Dalmatian-mutt that looked more like a short, stout pillow stuffed to bursting, stared at Mariska until she agreed to lift her onto the seat with Bob’s help.
Bob announced that he would take the first shift and claimed the driver’s seat.
Declan threw their luggage into the back seat, dodging Turbo as he made his laps. The miniature dachshund whipped under the seats and appeared a moment later to run headlong into his shins. The puppy shook off the collision and bolted away again.
Charlotte noticed an enormous cooler stowed in the back. “What’s in the cooler? Please say road snacks.”
“That’s the turkey,” said Mariska.
“You’re bringing the Thanksgiving turkey to North Carolina?”
Mariska nodded. “And all the trimmings. I don’t know if they have it all up there.”
Charlotte frowned. “We’re going to North Carolina, not the jungles of South America.”
“Though you wouldn’t know it from our mode of transportation,” mumbled Declan.
Mariska shrugged. “You never know.”
Abby hopped on the seat beside Charlotte, wedging her furry butt between her mommy and Declan on the bench-style seating.
“Ready?” Charlotte asked, reaching past the dog to pat Declan on the knee.
Ooof! was all he said in response as Abby collapsed into his lap.
Declan tried to shift out from under Abby’s pointy elbows, but, unhappy to be moved, she only leaned harder against him. She inched him off the end of the seat until he was hanging by one butt cheek.
Declan gave up and moved to the seat across the aisle. Abby stretched out to enjoyed her hard-won space.
“Sorry,” said Charlotte.
Declan leaned back. “Don’t worry. I know the pecking order.”
“She comes before me, too, so I know how you feel.”
Declan chuckled. “You know, sometimes I think about how boring my life was before I met you and I just want to cry.”
She grinned. “Are you saying you haven’t ridden in a snake bus before?”
Chapter Four
Charlotte checked the weather on her phone. Living in Florida, she’d grown accustomed to assuming every day would be sunny until it rained in the late afternoon. It took her until Georgia to realize North Carolina might not be just colder, but maybe less predictable.
She stared at her phone trying to reconcile the blobs of color there. The weather app displayed two enormous bands, one blue and one red and yellow, headed for a collision somewhere over North Carolina.
That can’t be right.
She played the animation over again.
Same thing.
When she played the “future” animation, the icy blue blob heading east from the Midwest ran directly into the arms of an enormous, throbbing multicolored splotch approaching from the Atlantic Ocean. All signs pointed to the systems having their tête-à-tête in the living room of their North Carolina rental home, give or take a few feet.
The splotch looked vaguely hurricane-y.
Hurricanes she knew.
“Hey Mariska, did you happen to check the forecast this morning?”
Mariska turned and offered her a blank stare.
Charlotte knew what that meant. Everyone had taken the weather for granted. The weather was so consistently hot in Florida, and the afternoon rain storms so predictable; that, barring hurricanes, people tended to forget weather existed.
She held up her phone, though she knew there was no chance Mariska could see the screen from her seat at the front of the bus. “There’s an enormous cold front and a giant storm on a collision course over Corolla.”
Mariska shrugged and returned her attention to the road. “Lucky we’re going to North Carolina.”
Charlotte dropped her phone to her side and stared at the back of Mariska’s head.
“Mariska?”
“Hm?”
“Corolla is the city where we’re staying in North Carolina.”
Mariska twisted to face her again. “I thought we were going to Duck?”
“They used to live in Duck. They bought the Corolla house two years ago,” said Darla without glancing from the book she was reading.
Mariska’s expression fell even further. “Really? I wanted to stay in a town called Duck. That just sounds adorable.”
“Right now it just sounds wet,” muttered Charlotte. She peered at her phone again, flipping through a few more screens, deftly dodging ads that promised to show her the top ten strangest things Tornados had dropped in people’s yards.
She sighed. “I can’t figure out what’s going to win—the snow or the storm. Either way it’s bad for us. Are you sure Carolina and Chuck made it out of Michigan? They might be snowbound.”
Mariska shook her head. “They’re already at the beach house. The flights were cheaper two days earlier. Brenda almost had a conniption when I told her Carolina would be there early. I guess she had to call her rental service to put the key under the mat sooner than she’d planned.”
“So I should expect everything done by the time we get there?” asked Charlotte.
“Nooo... But Carolina did do all the shopping for us, food and supplies.”
“That’s good. We should try to get there before the storm hits. No delays, no unscheduled stops—”
“I have to piddle,” announced Darla, slapping her book on the seat next to her.
Charlotte scowled. “We just stopped fifteen minutes ago.”
“Can’t help it. Old bladder, plus two cups of coffee, equals piddle. It’s simple math.”
“But every time we make a pit stop, you get another cup of coffee.”
“It’s a rest stop. I’m required by law to get coffee so I have a good reason to visit the next rest stop. It’s the cycle of life.”
“I have to go, too,” said Mariska.
Charlotte rubbed her temples. “We’re going to be able to trade this bus in for a flying car by the time we get there. It will be that far in the future.”
She looked out the window and watched the gaping stares of motorists stunned by The Reptile before slouching down in her seat.
“Do you have to go?” asked Darla as they pulled off Interstate-95 and into another rest stop.
Charlotte shook her head. “I’ll walk the dogs.”
Declan stood. “I’ll help. I could use a leg stretch.”
They piled off the bus and Charlotte and Declan led the three dogs into the small forest that ran along the edge of the rest stop.
They were only a few feet into the trees when Turbo started barking.
Charlotte scowled. “That’s weird. He never barks.”
“Look!”
Declan pointed and Charlotte followed his direction to discover a creature sitting on its haunches staring back at them and rubbing his hands like a little bandit.
“A raccoon!”
Turbo released a steady stream of staccato yaps. Charlotte crouched down and pulled the dogs close to her. “I hope it isn’t rabid or something. Get between us.”
Declan looked at her. “Did you just ask me to act as the last line of defense between you and a rabid raccoon?”
She nodded. “There are four of us. It’s only fair.”
Declan grimaced. “Boy, you’re lucky you’re cute.” He waved his arms at the animal. “Shoo!”
The raccoon walked away a few steps, paused, and then glanced back at Declan. It seemed to Charlotte that the animal couldn’t decide whether it could take Declan in a fight or not and the debate was still up for discussion in its little furry head.
Declan stomped and the raccoon decided he was outmatched. It left, though unhurried and with plenty of att
itude.
When it was out of sight, Turbo stopped barking.
“Who knew wiener-dogs hate raccoons?” said Charlotte.
“I can’t say I love them either,” said Declan.
“What happened?” asked Darla, appearing behind them, out of breath.
“We were confronted by a cocky raccoon,” said Charlotte. “He left.”
Darla scooped up Turbo. “He never barks. I was afraid something happened to y’all.”
They loaded on the bus and drove for another ten minutes before Darla threw back her head with an exasperated huff.
“Oh no.”
“What’s the matter?” asked Charlotte.
“I heard Turbo barking and came running.”
“I know. I was there.”
She turned and looked at Charlotte. “I forgot to go to the bathroom.”
Six rest stops and six cups of coffee later, they reached Duck, North Carolina as the first snowflakes began to fall. It was Seamus’ turn at the wheel, so he activated the forked-tongue-shaped windshield wipers as they wheeled onto the ramp that led to the beach and then headed north to Corolla.
The waves that flanked their right were large and churning, crashing to the sand as if trying to pound it into glass. Charlotte shimmied past Abby to Declan’s side of the bus and stared out at the dark horizon hovering beyond the sea.
“Watch for horses,” said Darla.
Seamus glanced back at her from his perch at the wheel. “Sea horses?”
“More like Sea Biscuits. Horses with hooves. Brenda said there are wild ones roaming around up here.”
After one missed turn and one U-turn, they spotted the house, pulled off the beach and parked in the driveway.
They disembarked as the snow began to fall. Charlotte and Declan took the dogs inside and then returned to grab the food and luggage. The snow was turning into a stinging sleet, and they wanted to get everything inside as soon as possible.
Charlotte scanned the area as she waited for Seamus to open the back. In an upper window of the house next door, she spotted a face peering down at them. She imagined the neighbor was less interested in them than in their enormous, scale-covered snake bus.
She waved, and the figure waved back.
Seamus popped open the back door and they dragged what they could carry into the large wood-shingled house. By the time the last bags were inside, the sleet had once again turned to snow.