I doubted that; the woman seemed pretty PO’d.
He lowered his voice. “She’s under a lot of stress lately. You’ll have to forgive her.”
“Pretty stressful existence, huh? Being rich and beautiful.” My response came out cattier than I meant it to.
“No, it’s . . .” We were still standing under that tree, alone at the busy swap meet. Very softly he said, “Brandy, we’re trying to start a family, and it’s . . . tough going.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. Had no idea.”
I don’t know why I said that. Everyone in town knew, thanks to certain big-mouth gossips—one of whom lived in the same house as me.
He went on, very quietly, almost inaudible. “She’s been taking a lot of hormone pills and well, let’s just say . . . just about anything sets her off.”
I was waving both hands at him, like I was guiding somebody backing up a car to stop. “Really, Wes. You don’t have to explain. . . .”
“But you deserve an explanation.” He took my hand. “We’ve been friends a long time, Brandy, and that means a lot to me.”
“Really?” It just came out. I mean, I already had a boyfriend. But not a boyfriend who was maybe the richest man in town.
“If it weren’t for you, I . . . I wouldn’t have gone back to Columbia.”
I smirked. “You saw yourself stuck here in Serenity, with some girl from the community college, you mean.”
“Don’t be silly. Don’t you remember? It was you who told me to get my act together.” He squeezed my hand. “That night you read me the Riot Act? Remember?”
I frowned. “Uh . . . over shots at the Brew?”
He nodded.
“I kinda remember. Sorta kinda. Maybe.”
Suddenly embarrassed, Wes released my hand. “Well, I better go find Vanessa.”
“Good luck,” I said.
After he’d gone, I sat back down in the grass, mulling the unpleasant scene with his wife.
Was there something different I could have done? Maybe reached out for that tree, caught myself, and not tumble into Wes’s arms? I hadn’t done that on purpose.
Had I?
Either way, I figured Vanessa would have been furious; just seeing us together would have been enough.
And I had another strong feeling—that her promise to Wes that “he would regret it,” sounded more like a threat.
Or maybe it was a promise....
A Trash ‘n’ Treasures Tip
At a swap meet, you can find everything and anything under the summer sun—from antiques to auto parts, household cleaners to clothing, darning needles to diapers. One vendor was doing brisk business selling discounted male enhancement drugs before the swap meet association shut him down, making him dysfunctional.
Photo by Bamford Studio
About the Authors
BARBARA ALLAN is the joint pseudonym of acclaimed short-story writer Barbara Collins (Too Many Tomcats) and New York Times bestselling mystery novelist Max Allan Collins (Road to Perdition). Their previous collaborations have included one son, a short story collection, and ten novels, including the 2008 winner of the Romantic Times Toby Bromberg Award for Most Humorous Mystery, Antiques Flee Market. They live in Iowa in a house filled with trash and treasures. Learn more about them at www.maxallancollins.com and www.barbaraallan.com.
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Copyright © 2014 by Max Allan Collins and Barbara Collins
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