by Renee George
“California. Lakeside. It’s in San Diego County.”
“Oh.” She grinned, and it was nice. Friendly even. “My brother lives in California, Missouri. My fault.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ruth. Ruth Thompson.”
I laughed and she chuckled, throaty and real. I liked her. She seemed sassy. Taking her hand, I shook it firmly, placing my left hand over the top. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ruth.”
“My husband Ed and I own Doe Run Automotive at the end of town. Once you get settled in, come on down for some coffee and pie.” She garnered several harsh stares and mutters from the others after her generous offer. “Oh, shut up, y’all. I’m allowed to invite someone for pie if I want to.”
While they hadn’t said anything out loud, I knew exactly where she was coming from. Two men sporting long white beards, and desperately in need of grooming tips, stepped forward next. They had milky blue eyes and wide mouths and looked identical. Both wore overalls covering their rounded bellies. “I’m Delbert Johnson,” one of them said, then nodded toward the other. “This is my brother Elbert. We own the general store.”
Delbert and Elbert; that explained the similarities. They had to be twins. “Nice to meet you, neighbor.” I smiled, and despite their crotchety demeanors, they smiled back. Nice white teeth. Unexpected really. Then one by one, the rest introduced themselves.
“Elton Brown, I own the used furniture shop up the way.”
A brunette with a severe bun went next. “Becky Baker, I have a bakery just down the block. I know, I’m a baker who married a Baker.” She grinned at her own joke. “Life’s funny like that sometimes.”
“Blondina Messer. Blonde Bear Cafe.” The largish woman, with big platinum-blonde hair, bright-blue eye shadow, and a tan that would make George Hamilton jealous, pointed up the road. “You can see the sign from here, sugar.”
There was Tammy Tolliver, the local seamstress, and Neville Lutjen, owner of the C Bar and mayor of Peculiar, and finally, Robbin Clubb, who owned the used bookstore in town. It was like the whole damn Chamber of Commerce had shown up. Definitely a tight community.
“Well, it’s really nice to meet each of you,” I finally said after the introductions wound to a halt.
Ruth placed a slender hand on my shoulder. “Have you heard from Chavvie? I’ve been really worried.”
Dizziness hit me, then a flash of trees, the wind brushing against me, and the feeling of sheer freedom as I leapt over a small brook. I jerked my shoulder away from Ruth’s touch.
She frowned. “You okay?”
“Sorry, I…no, I mean, yes, I’m okay. But no, I haven’t heard from Chav, not for almost a week now.”
Ruth’s eyes softened, sadness brimming on the surface. “She’s a good friend. If you hear anything, you let me know.”
“Of course.”
“You think you’ll be opening the diner up soon?” Delbert asked. “What are you planning on serving? Some of that fancy West Coast cuisine. We’ve been hoping to find out, but Chav’s been pretty tight-lipped.”
“I’m not sure. She and I have talked about adding a vegetarian menu,” I mumbled, feeling stupid for talking about the diner. What if I couldn’t find her? What if she had disappeared as if I could find her? No, I wouldn’t let myself go there. I would find Chav.
“Vegetarian? That some kind of newfangled religion?” Elbert asked.
“No, just regular food, but without meat products.”
Delbert started chuckling, and I realized Elbert had been teasing me. Delbert nudged his brother with an elbow. “Good one, El.”
Ah. Country humor. Interesting.
Mayor Lutjen cleared his throat and the brothers stopped laughing. While Neville Lutjen’s appearance was that of a good ol’ boy—short-cropped chestnut hair, jeans, cowboy boots, button-down shirt with pockets—his brown eyes were sharp with intelligence.
I was hot and tired, and I didn’t want to talk to these people anymore. At least not now. I needed a bed, or anywhere soft to lie down and relax my brain for a minute. I rubbed my arms as goose bumps formed, causing the little hairs to stand on end. With the temperature ninety-plus degrees, it wasn’t from the cold.
Suddenly, a medium-size dog, with reddish-brown fur and large ears that stood alert, appeared from I don’t know where, and circled the mayor. Its left ear, snow white in contrast to the rest of the beast, moved forward and back, its lips curling into a snarl.
“Is that your dog?”
Mayor Lutjen looked around. “What dog?”
“That one.” I pointed to where the animal had been just seconds before, but it had disappeared. “Uh, well, the one that was just in front of you.” Glancing around, I silently asked for someone to confirm what I’d seen.
“I didn’t see no dog.” Elton Brown shrugged.
Withholding a heavy sigh, I dropped my shoulder in concession. “All right, fine. No dog.” The low droning buzz was getting worse in my ears.
“Ms. Haddock.” Neville smiled, wide and charming. “Sunny,” he said, using my first name to soften his next statement. “I’m afraid everyone has to get back to work. Town doesn’t run on its own.”
“Oh, yeah, completely,” I said. A truck drove down the street, kicking up dust. Wolf calls ensued. “Nice,” I muttered.
There were four of them, two boys up front, two in the truck bed, and they couldn’t have been much older than seventeen or eighteen.
“Damn pups,” I heard Delbert mumble before he went back into his store. I wondered if that was a local gang or something, or if “pups” was an Ozark euphemism for rowdy teenagers.
One of the boys in the back of the truck smiled at me. I won’t call it a wolfish grin, because it was friendlier than that, and without thinking, I smiled back. He jumped out of the moving vehicle with catlike grace.
Too stunned to move, I watched as he coolly sauntered up the street toward me. His hair was cut short. It was brown with bleached-blond spots. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. His arms were covered in tattoos, and his face glinted with piercings in his ears, nose, eyebrows, and lower lip.
Tall and lanky, the kid was a walking billboard for angst and rebellion. As he approached, his smile became more confident—that is, until he tripped over his own feet and landed in a push-up position at mine. He looked up and blushed.
I held out my hand and pulled him up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice two octaves lower than I thought it would be considering his age. He dusted his hands on his jeans. The smile was back. “You are one hot mamma. New in town?”
As pick-up lines go, this one was pretty amateurish. I fought hard not to laugh at him, didn’t want to crush his self-esteem so early in life. “Yes, I’m new. Sunny. And you’d be?”
“Jo Jo, but you can call me Jo Jo.”
I couldn’t help myself any longer. I laughed.
He put his hands on his hips, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them, and I noticed the black polish on his fingernails. “Something funny?”
I pulled myself together. “Not a thing.”
Babel pulled up in a small compact car. I laughed at the sight. He must have had it parked close by because I hadn’t been distracted by the townies long enough for him to have gone very far. His head in the small driver window looked like someone had zoomed it in. I nearly laughed again.
“This boy bothering you, Ms. Haddock?”
The way he said my name carried the weight of possession that metaphysically drew me to him. I actually started a step toward him before I stopped myself. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths to shake off the feeling.
“What?” I asked, trying to get a grip.
“Is the kid bothering you?”
“Uh.” The only person bothering me was Babel—the hot-and-bothered kind of bothering. “Nope. Not bothering me. Not at all. Everything is fine and dandy even. I’m totally cool with Jo Jo.” Sheesh, I s
ounded like a moron.
“All right then.” He raised a questioning brow. “I’ve got to run a few errands, but I’ll be back later this afternoon.”
“Okay,” I said, a stupid grin plastered on my stupid face as Babel drove off down the street. Gah! How embarrassing.
Heat rose to my cheeks as I felt Jo Jo’s stare. “That was interesting,” the boy said.
“Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Glancing at my U-Haul, I nodded at Jo Jo. “How’d you like to make fifty dollars, kid?”
“What do you got in mind?” He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled.
“Nothing like that.” Holy crap. “I need help unloading my stuff is all.”
“Oh.” He laughed. His teeth were small and narrow, but perfect. I’d noticed that I hadn’t met anyone with poor oral hygiene. I’d have to find out who the local dentist was, because with his skill he could make a fortune in Hollywood.
“So? You in?”
“Sure.” He sniffed. “My pa’s been on me to earn some extra cash.”
“Excellent. Meet me outside the restaurant in a couple of hours.” I still needed a power nap, and besides, when Babel came back, it would be nice to have Jo Jo there as a buffer.
In my rush to get out of the street and away from people, I’d nearly forgotten to get my stuff from the truck. Nearly. I grabbed my suitcase and my necessities bag, the one women carry that contains all the pertinent items they might need in any given situation—makeup, hair spray, brush, toothbrush, rubber bands, small flashlight, tampons, matches, Mentholatum, chocolate, and clean underwear. My mother didn’t teach me a whole hell of a lot, but she taught me to always be prepared in case of an accident.
Mom. If she could only see me now. You see, the hippie commune where I was raised was a neo-pagan colony in Northern California. I never bought into the Druidic worship-mother-earth, commune-with-nature bullshit they peddled, but my parents, well, they were true believers. The only thing I wanted as a teenager was to get the hell out and be part of the real world, where your parents didn’t run around naked or practice polyamory. When I turned eighteen, I hitched a ride to San Diego and never looked back.
After I closed the door to the diner behind me and crossed the room to the counter, I heard the dog snarl and growl before I saw him. The reddish dog with the white ear stood in the center of the room, its ears back. He looked really unhappy and territorial. “It’s okay, fella. I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, trying to keep the terror out of my voice.
Its ears popped forward, and I swear it looked confused. The dog whined then lay on the floor.
“Good doggy. Good boy.” I backed away and took the opportunity to crawl up on the display counter—a defensible position if the dog attacked. The animal put a paw over his muzzle, and if he’d been human, I’d have sworn he shook his head.
My phone was in my necessities bag, near the door, but even if I could get to it without having my throat ripped out, who would I call? I had no one nearby on speed dial. And like an idiot, I hadn’t asked Babel for his phone number to add to my contacts. I took a few deep, cleansing breaths to calm myself. Babel had said he’d be back in a couple of hours. Jo Jo was coming as well. I could wait.
After the first thirty minutes, my ass was so sore I couldn’t hold still any longer. I shifted to my knees and lay on my stomach. The dog tilted his head, giving me the once over. “Quit looking at me.”
He blinked, but turned away.
“How’d you get in here, anyways?” Like I really expected the creature to answer. “I wish you’d leave the same way.”
He didn’t look at me, but he whined again.
“I’m sorry.” I felt a little ashamed. After all, he hadn’t done anything to make me think he’d eat me, but…“Look, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m afraid of dogs. I had a really bad experience when I was a kid.” I didn’t know why I was sharing with the animal, but I continued. “A community dog chased me up a tree and got hold of my pants, along with my ankle. It hurt really bad, let me tell you.” I had the scar on my ankle to prove it. “Anyways, I’d had to take off my jeans to get loose from it, and Moonbell, a boy I had a serious crush on, saw me in my underwear. It was really traumatic.”
Moonbell. I hadn’t thought about him in years. What a putz he’d turned out to be. His parents were hippies as well, hence the stupid name. I let him take my virginity when we were sixteen. Under a freaking cherry tree, no less. I thought I loved him and he loved me, but it turned out he didn’t love me enough to leave the community. We’d planned for our escape, and the night I left, he backed out. Total mamma’s boy.
I bet Babel was a mamma’s boy. He just looked like one. Okay, so maybe I was projecting a little—giving him some faults so I wouldn’t feel so attracted to him.
Like that would work. Not.
Yawning, I put my head down. Between driving and arriving, I was worn out. I decided it would be okay to rest my eyes. Not sleep, because that would just be reckless and stupid, but resting my eyes would be okay. If the dog even twitched, I’d hear him, at least that’s what I told myself, and I was too tired to fight the logic.
I woke with a yelp as the front door closed.
Adrenaline surged as I bolted up on the counter. Babel held up a hand. “Hey. I’m back as promised.”
I fell off the counter, landing on my ass once again, and looked around for the dog. “Where is he?”
Babel raised a brow. “Who?”
“The dog. The stupid dog that’s been holding me hostage for—” I looked at my watch, “—nearly two hours. Wow, I can’t believe I’ve been asleep that long.”
“A dog held you hostage?” Babel set down the bucket of cleaning supplies he’d been carrying. “Did he put a gun to your head?”
“Smart-ass.” I stood up and dusted my butt. “If you didn’t see him go out the front door when you came in, then there’s got to be some other way in and out.”
“I didn’t see a dog coming or going. Are you sure you didn’t dream it?”
The fear had passed, and now that free thought could function in my brain once more, all I could think about was how damn sexy Babel looked. He’d brushed his wild hair, and if he hadn’t been such a mountain man, I’d have bet money he used product. His face was freshly shaven, and he smelled really nice.
Damn him.
“No, I didn’t dream it.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Maybe you could just look around, make sure nothing can get back in.”
He grunted. “Okay.”
While he checked the place out, I spent my time thinking about Chav, and wishing I could get a sense or a vibe about what had happened to her. It wasn’t my fault that every once in a while important thoughts were interrupted with visions (and not the psychic kind) of Babel naked. Again. Shaking my head, I tried to put him out of my mind. I didn’t need the complication or the heartache.
“Did you find anything?” I yelled when he’d disappeared into the kitchen.
Babel reappeared in the front. “Nothing.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “If the dog made it in or out without using the door, then I’m not sure how he did it.”
I sighed. Heavily. “Damn.”
“Sunny,” he said, friendly but wary. “I don’t know why Chav invited you to this town, or why she thought, well, that you’d be a good fit for Peculiar. But you’re not.”
Seriously? I was beginning to develop a complex. “In time, when we find Chav, I’ll fit in just fine.” After all, if they’d accepted Chavvah, who, for all intents, was an outsider, why wouldn’t they accept me? I really liked this place. It felt comfortable, and I never feel comfortable anywhere.
“No. No, you won’t.” He rubbed his eyebrows. “The townsfolk are all the same. You’re different.”
“Different makes the world go ’round. At least that’s what my father used to say.”
“In this case, your father would be wrong.”
“So,
what? Are you all aliens or something?” I asked, trying to lighten the ever-increasing oppression filling the room.
“Or something.” He didn’t even smile.
“Don’t tell me you all have some kind of Jonestown, crazy-Waco thing going on here. Because if ATF guys start showing up in full-on weapons and gear, I might consider leaving.” I flinched as soon as I said it. Growing up the way I did, I had to hear the same kind of jibes about our community. But I was just super tired of him trying to get rid of me. “Other than that, you and the town are just going to have to get used to the idea of having me around.”
His so-serious face didn’t even twitch. “I’m afraid you can’t stay. I’ll buy you out of your share of the diner if that’s what it takes.”
I huffed my frustration. “Fine, you can buy it back.” Yeah, when cows quack and ducks moo.
“Yeah? You’d do that?”
The relief on his face pissed me off. “Sure. Two million dollars and the place is all yours.”
“But you only paid two-hundred grand,” Babel said incredulously.
“Yes. Well, the economy is bad, haven’t you heard? And besides, I think I should get extra for all the pain and suffering.”
“So, you’re not going to sell it back to me. Is that what you’re saying?”
Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. “That’s what I’m saying. I’m staying. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
His voice became growly and gruff and super sexy. “This town can be dangerous for outsiders.” And super annoying.
I looked up at him sharply. I could take his words as a threat, but also as a warning. “Do you know what happened to Chav? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
His blue eyes swirled with intensity. I never knew such a cool color could burn with such heat. “This isn’t about Chavvie or Judah. This is about you.”
There was a menace about Babel, one that brought goose bumps to the surface of my skin.
The front door cracked open, and what looked to be about a size-twelve tennis shoe shoved through the opening. It was soon followed by the rest of Jo Jo. He wiped a red paisley handkerchief across his sweaty forehead and shoved it in his back pocket. It was my turned to be relieved.