You've Got Tail

by Renee George

  “Perhaps you could find me a diaper.”

  Guess he didn’t like the “baby” comment. Oh well. Sucks to be him.

  He covered himself with his hands. Thank God. However, it didn’t stop me from checking out the rest of his body. Ay Chihuahua! Damn, it kind of sucked to be me.

  I knew from Chav that Babel had moved back to Kansas City where their parents lived after he’d taken a year off from university to look for their brother Judah. What was he still doing here? A horrible thought entered my head. “If you’re here, does that mean…”

  His face suddenly sobered. “I don’t know. Mom and Dad haven’t been able to get ahold of her for the last couple of days, so they sent me down to check in. I got here yesterday.”

  “She texted me a couple of days ago. I haven’t been able to get ahold of her since then.” I lifted a hand to comfort him, but his nakedness stopped me from breaching the distance. “Babel, we’re going to find her.” Even if I had to turn over every stump and stone in this backward-ass town.

  “Call me Babe. Everyone does.”

  That was the second time he’d said that to me, but I couldn’t call him Babe. No way, no how. Too intimate. Especially since I’d seen him in his birthday suit. “I don’t think so.”

  He chuckled, low and sexy, and everything went right south of my navel. “Sunny, I’m afraid I’ve, err…lost my clothes.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” How did a person go about losing all their damn clothes? “Fine. I’ll stay on one side of the counter. You stay on the other. Kapeesh?”

  “I understand,” he said with a practiced tolerance. It made me wonder who he’d gotten so much practice with.

  He hadn’t turned around yet, and part of me felt really sad about it. I’m sure he had a killer butt to go with his killer bod. I was all about the teeth and ass. But there were no complaints about the whole frontal part of him either, so…

  “Good. Should I call someone for you? Or do you want to call someone? A girlfriend? Anyone who can bring you some clothes?” Subtle. Not.

  “The phone’s not working here even if I could call someone.”

  I noticed he’d didn’t say “no girlfriend.” Much to my annoyance, I cared. And why was the phone turned off? “Don’t you have a cell phone that works?”

  He moved his hands, indicating his lack of attire. “No pockets.”

  In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, Doh! I snuck another quick glance at his dangly bits, even more annoyed with myself for not having better self-control. “Great. Fantastic.” I waved my hand again and purposefully looked away. I had a cell phone out in my truck, and was just about to tell him I’d go get it when he stepped out from behind the counter, still full Monty. “Hey! Keep the mammoth covered.”

  “Flattering. But there’s nothing prehistoric about it.” He cocked his eyebrow and smirked.

  Bastard.

  “Look here, darling.” He pointed to his “junk” as he’d called it and said, “This here is what you call a penis. It’s connected to the bladder and the bladder is full. Turn your head if you want, sweetheart, but I’m heading to the john.”

  “Lovely. And I’m not your darling.” I made a show of rolling my eyes and turning away. “I’m going to get my cell phone. I expect you to be standing behind the counter by the time I get back.” Now, for the sake of posterity—well, at least for the sake of his posterior—I glanced back as he headed left to the bathroom. Of course, it was sort of hard to notice his ass when I saw the—

  “Blood…” I whispered.

  A pain pierced my temple as my knees buckled beneath me. I dropped to the ground. My peripheral vision narrowed to black. The pounding of blood racing through my arteries swelled loudly in my ears. It was out of beat with my heart.

  The thumping of blood stopped, my eyesight began to clear, and I was in Babel’s arms.

  “Sunny? You okay?” I heard his voice as a muffled echo.

  No, I wanted to tell him. I wasn’t okay. But my mouth didn’t work. A vision came over me. I could sense it like death come knocking. Then I was no longer in Babel’s arms. I was a ghost. A spectator.

  I was…in a shabby apartment with furniture dating back to the seventies? Had I traveled to the past? It wasn’t unheard of for me, but it couldn’t be relevant for something in my life now since I hadn’t been born until 1974. Or could it? Great. The powers that be were giving me a psychic reading on my lost Crissy doll. Useless.

  I heard a muffled cry, maybe a scream from beyond the front door. I passed through and down the stairs. The noise grew louder. Animalistic growls and snarls. Fear tightened in my stomach.

  It’s not real, I reminded myself several times as the feral sounds made me shiver.

  I couldn’t see any creature, but it certainly sounded like someone was getting voraciously attacked. And the room—it looked familiar. Two windows high up on the far wall spilled moonlight across the floor to…the counter? This was the restaurant. The noise continued, loud, animalistic, with grunting, groaning, and a masculine “ah!”

  Oh. Oh no.

  If I’d really been there, I’d have run, but the vision took me closer to the scene of the crime. On the floor, behind the counter, a gorgeous woman with long dark hair, golden eyes, and even in the bad lighting, a body I’d give my right tit for, straddled the very naked and very sexy Babel Trimmel. I wanted to gouge out my eyes. Where was a hot poker salesman when you needed him?

  The woman threw her head back and laughed. “You were fantastic, Babe. As always.”

  He smiled, his eyes rolling back a little. Coming up on his elbows, he leaned his left shoulder forward and looked behind. “You’ve got to do something about those fingernails.”

  “Just marking my territory.”

  Holy smack, the blood on the floor had happened during sexcapades? Yikes.

  “I’m not your territory, Sheila.”

  The woman, Sheila apparently, picked up a bottle of Canadian Mist from the floor beside them, took a swig, then dumped some of the amber liquid down his large chest. No wonder the place reeked.

  Babel shook his head and gave her thigh a light slap. “It’s time to go, Sheila. I’ve got to get the place cleaned up.”

  “You sure you don’t want to move here?” She licked his nipple. “I’ve sure missed you.”

  He sighed. The sigh sounded like it’d been one that he’d perfected over and over for this very argument. “It’s not this town or you. I’ve got a real life out there.” He said “there” as though he was talking about an alien planet. “I’m going to find my sister, then get back to it.”

  “And what if you don’t find her?” Sheila asked. “You never found Judah.”

  Babel’s eyes narrowed. “Not an option,” he said. Then added, “I’m finding her, and after, getting the heck out of this town. It’s brought nothing but bad luck for my family.”

  “Sorry,” she said, as if she wasn’t sorry, an evil smile playing on her lips. Okay, so maybe more mischievous than evil, but it was my vision, I could use whatever adjectives I liked. “But you know that answer pisses me off.”

  Before he could blink, she whacked him super hard across the temple with the bottle of blended whiskey, and Babel was out like a light.

  “Bastard,” Sheila muttered. Which I understood, because it had been my sentiment exactly.

  She dressed quickly, gathered up Babel’s clothes, and walked into the kitchen area. It was small, but nice. I hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, so it was like my very own psychic tour. She opened the walk-in freezer and chucked the jeans, boots, socks, and T-shirt inside. No underwear. Huh. I’d file that nugget away for later.

  My vision stopped with her slamming the front door, and suddenly I was back, looking up from the floor at the towering and still very naked Babel.

  “Ow.” My head, my back, my butt—everything hurt. “Did you drop me?”

  “What the hell just happened?” He look
ed a little freaked out.

  I got up on my elbows and rubbed the back of my skull. “Did you drop me on the ground?”

  “You were having a seizure or something. I laid you on the floor.” He was definitely freaked. “If I’d had a phone I’d have called for the doc, but…”

  “I’m fine now. You can stop worrying.” I moved my feet off the chair Babel had propped them up on.

  “I’m sorry. I’m squeamish about blood.”

  Which wasn’t a complete lie. Blood tended to bring on funky psychic mojo that left me drained and pained. Although, I’ll admit, these visions had been much stronger than normal. Apparently, Chavvah wasn’t the only Trimmel who put my psychic stuff on speed dial.

  “I’m getting that about you.” At least he sounded less upset.

  I closed my eyes. “Why would you let someone do that to your back?”

  “That’s a story for another day, darlin’.”

  Yeah, I knew the story. Not so sure I wanted the blow-by-blow again. I felt his arms go under me, and I opened my eyes, staring into the deep abyss of his gorgeous, Midwest baby blues.

  I let him carry me upstairs to the apartment. I’m not a small woman, but he held me like I weighed next to nothing, which made me think kindlier of him. With my arms around his shoulders, I could smell an unidentifiable musk and spice to his skin. He sat me down on a couch—the scent went from musky to musty—then he went into another room. I heard water running in the sink. More than a whisper of regret passed through me. I barely knew the man and I missed being in his arms. I looked around the living room.

  This was the seventies place where my vision had started. The retro decorum lacked any sophistication that could’ve made the space sensational. I knew this had been where Judah lived when he’d been in town. He’d rented this building before his disappearance, and Chav had used out stake to purchase it during her search for him. His vanishing had hit her hard.

  Chav told me once that she hadn’t agreed with her oldest brother’s “lifestyle choice,” but she respected him. I’d asked her what she meant, but she had shaken her head, unwilling to elaborate. I knew it wasn’t as simple as him being gay or anything like that, because Chav, like myself, was socially liberal. Hell, she’d have started her own PFLAG (Parents, Families, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays) in Peculiar if that had been the case. No. There was something else she hadn’t approved of.

  I heard the water turn off in the kitchen. Babel returned and proceeded to wipe my face and neck with a cool cloth.

  “There now, all better.” For a second, he sounded like my father. Which totally squicked me, considering the hard-core fantasies I had about him. He put the washcloth in my hand and patted my shoulder. “I’m going to jump in the shower real quick. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Part of me wanted to watch him walk away strictly for the view, but since that part seemed to have done gone and lost its damn mind, I waited until I heard water running before looking in his direction.

  He’d left the bathroom door open. Perv.

  I couldn’t believe it, less than an hour in a new town and I’d witnessed a Red Shoe Diary moment, and the star was lathering up less than ten feet away. I would’ve been downright disgusted by the whole morning if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with thoughts of slippery suds sliding along his perfectly formed pecs. (Now I understand how bad porn gets started. Bow chick-a bow-wow.)

  I will not go stare at the naked man. I repeated this mantra in my head over and over as I ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

  Grabbing his clothes from the freezer, I contemplated where they’d been and how they got there as I carried them back up stairs. They were cold and held the scent of sweat, but at least he’d have something to put on so he could go away. I placed them on the couch, and dear Lord, it was a really ugly couch. It would be the first piece of furniture to go when Chav and I started fixing the place up. And with that thought, I went downstairs to wait for him.

  Fifteen minutes later, the light flickered on in the stairwell. Babel’s arms and face glistened with dewy goodness as he walked down the steps. He rubbed a tea towel, barely big enough to dry a fish’s butt, against his loose mane of wet hair. His blue T-shirt clung to his chest. Water soaking through the fabric made spots the color of midnight.

  He must have felt me staring, because he dropped his arm to his side and looked at me. “Where’d you find my clothes?”

  “The freezer.” I wrapped my knuckle on the counter. “Guess you can go home now.”

  “Guess so.” He shrugged as he stretched his body to tuck in his shirt. “But we should probably talk.”

  “I’m in no mood.” For talk. Damn, he was super-fine.

  “Well, you kind of need to get in the mood.” He shook his hair out, droplets spraying out around him. It began to feel like a bad (or really good, depending on who you asked) shampoo commercial. “There’s been a mistake. My sister should’ve never invited you out here, Sunny.”

  “You’ve said that already, but unfortunately for you, my name’s on the property, same as hers, all legal and binding. I’m staying. Period. End of discussion. Besides, I’m not going anywhere until I find Chav.”

  Babel chewed his lower lip and narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t think you understand the situation.”

  “Oh, I think I do. You don’t like me. Fine. I get that.”

  “It’s a might more complicated than that.” He scratched at his five o’clock shadow.

  I resisted the temptation to offer him a hand. “Why do you care, anyway? Don’t you have a real life you want to get back to? You seem awfully concerned for a guy who isn’t even sticking around.”

  “And what makes you think that?” Babel asked.

  “Uh…” Fair question. I couldn’t exactly tell him that I’d heard him tell his cuh-razy lover in a vision. “Well, you didn’t exactly stick around after the search was called off for Judah.”

  A pained expression crossed his face. I instantly regretted being such an ass. It was a low blow, and petty even.

  “I stayed for as long as I could stand it.” He shook his head. “I’m not meant for this place, Sunny. And neither are you.”

  Another twinge. “It doesn’t matter.” We would find Chavvah, then he would be gone. “Have you heard anything? Are the police searching for her?”

  “No and yes. I haven’t heard from Chavvie, but Sheriff Taylor isn’t giving up.” He flicked his thumbnail against his ring fingernail. “Not yet, anyways.”

  “She’ll show up, Babel. I just know it.” But I didn’t know it. In my heart, I believed she was alive, and not because of any vision. “She’s my best friend. I’d feel it if she was gone. Now, go on back to wherever you’re staying…” Oh, crap. Maybe he’d been staying here. “You do have another place to stay don’t you?”

  Babel nodded once. “I’ve been staying at Chavvie’s cabin down by the lake.”

  “Good,” I whispered. I’d want to check out her place later for clues to what happened. “It’s been a long drive for me, and I need a nap so I can figure out what I have to do next to find her.”

  He shook his head as if he was having an argument with himself. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours with some cleaning supplies and get the floor behind the counter scrubbed.”

  I didn’t want to talk anymore. I wanted to get my bags out of the truck. I’d hassle with unpacking the U-Haul later, but the bags were a must. I needed something personal, something of mine in this place. I held out my hand. “That’s a nice offer. I can manage. Thanks.”

  Babel took my hand, and gave me a tight-lipped smile. “You don’t handle blood very well. After I clean it up, maybe we can compare notes about Chavvie.”

  I nodded, afraid that if I spoke the dams would open and I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears. Then I heard a voice like a whisper in my ear.

  Save her.

  Babel let go of my hand. “I’ll be back.” The way he said it so
unded more like a threat than a promise. As he walked out the front door, he added, “You’ve got an audience.”

  Chapter 2

  After a little exploring, I’d found a brick in the kitchen to prop the front door open. I needed the fresh air almost as much as the place did. Outside and across the street, a small crowd of about ten men and women gathered under the awning of the Johnson’s General Store. They kept looking over my way and talking amongst themselves. Babel relaxed against the hood of the Toyota. “Looks like you’ve given them something to talk about.”

  Apparently, I was quite the buzz about town. Hell, if they’d pulled out barbeque grills, we’d have had a regular block party going on. For a second I thought they might be the welcome wagon, but no one held pies or baskets of goodies, so…Probably not.

  Bravely, I smiled, showing lots of teeth, and waved.

  This action must’ve startled them, because they all looked away at once. Well, if they were going for inconspicuous, they were failing miserably.

  “Hello,” I said loudly, sounding more in command than I felt, and more foolish than brave, I walked across the street to join them. After all, we were going to be neighbors, and they might as well meet me face-to-face. “I’m Sunny. Sunny Haddock.” I pointed to the sign over the diner. “The Sunny in Sunny’s Outlook. Chavvah Trimmel’s partner.” Just in case they missed the connection. They were looking at me as though I’d just beamed down from the mother ship after creating crop circles. Maybe it was the clothes. “I’m from California,” I explained.

  “I’ve got a brother in California,” a young woman with brown hair and warm brown eyes said.

  “Oh, whereabouts?” Finally someone brave enough to make small talk, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity go by.

  She gave me a funny look. “Just outside the town. He’s got a few acres of land up there.”

  Up there? “Up around Pismo Beach? Or closer to Oxnard?”

  “No, just outside California.” She looked as confused as I felt. “You know, the county seat of Moniteau. Where are you from again?”