‘‘I called Bob.’’ Jeremy stepped forward and put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. ‘‘He was out checking on your skunks, but he’ll be here in a couple of minutes to make out a report for the insurance company.’’
Sean squinted at Jeremy. ‘‘What’s he doing with the skunks?’’ He hoped to hell Bob wasn’t out there trying to poison them. Damn it, why did everything have to happen at once?
Clara spoke up, her tinfoiled hair making her look like a science experiment gone wrong. ‘‘I told him I wanted those skunks G-O-N-E, gone! He said he’d handle it. I can’t have those skunks around. They scare Bud.’’ At the sound of his name, Bud started yapping.
‘‘See?’’ Clara stroked the Chihuahua lovingly. ‘‘Just mention skunks and Bud gets upset. Clem came down this morning to tell you to get rid of them, but he said you’d made no firm commitment, so I had to act.’’
‘‘He did mention it.’’ Sean’s patience was being severely tested. ‘‘And I plan to do something about the skunks.’’ If it wasn’t too late.
‘‘When?’’ Clara tapped her expensively booted foot. ‘‘Next month? Next year? Next century?’’
‘‘I’ll get started tonight.’’ He’d have to build several traps and prepare a hiding place for them in the woods. Maybe this accident had happened in the nick of time to pull Bob off of skunk detail.
‘‘If everybody’s okay, I need to get back to the diner,’’ Madeline said. ‘‘Edith Mae, why don’t you come with me and have a nice cup of calming tea? I’m sure Bob will be happy to move your car into your usual spot once he’s finished making out his report.’’
‘‘I don’t need tea at a time like this,’’ Edith Mae said. ‘‘I need gin.’’
‘‘Now, Edith Mae.’’ Madeline put an arm around the woman’s narrow shoulders. ‘‘You know we don’t have hard liquor at the Hob Knob. We leave that to Jeff over at the Big Knobian, and they won’t open for another hour.’’
‘‘Should’ve brought my flask,’’ Edith Mae said.
‘‘I understand this is upsetting,’’ Madeline said. ‘‘Maybe I can find you a small glass of cooking sherry.’’
‘‘Can’t abide the stuff,’’ Edith Mae muttered, but she allowed herself to be led away.
Francine moved closer to Sean and spoke in an undertone. ‘‘If Walt cut your hair a week ago, then maybe he’s losing his touch. Come on over to my shop after this is over and I’ll trim you up.’’
Sean glanced at Francine. ‘‘Thanks, but my hair should be okay in a few days.’’
‘‘Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing. Some places are long, some short, and in spots it’s sprouting out of your head like crabgrass. Did you start using a cheaper shampoo?’’
‘‘No, I—’’
‘‘Well, well!’’ Bob Anglethorpe’s voice boomed out, and he strutted over in his khaki police chief’s uniform. ‘‘Have a little fender bender, there, Madigan?’’
‘‘Minor problem, Bob.’’ Sean hoped it was minor. He couldn’t see well enough to determine that. ‘‘I hear you were out investigating the family of skunks under my porch.’’ It wasn’t technically his porch, which was why he couldn’t dictate what went on under it.
‘‘Yeah, I left some poisoned bait out for them. That should take care of the problem.’’
Sean thought quickly. The skunks wouldn’t come out for at least another two hours. That gave him enough time to go home and gather up the bait, once he’d paid a quick visit to Dorcas and Ambrose. But the sex bench would have to wait.
‘‘How many packets did you figure it would take?’’ he asked, pretending he didn’t much care.
‘‘I set out eight. Now let me take a look at this wreck you managed to have with Edith Mae.’’ Clipboard in hand, Bob started walking around both vehicles.
‘‘Looks like things are under control, buddy.’’ Jeremy slapped Sean on the shoulder. ‘‘I’d better get back to work.’’
‘‘Have you fixed it?’’
‘‘Not yet. It’s taking longer than I thought it would.’’
Sean lowered his voice. ‘‘On purpose?’’
‘‘No, not on purpose. I told you I wouldn’t do that. There are some electrical issues, too. The power’s cut out twice since I’ve been there.’’
Sean couldn’t tell if Jeremy was really having problems or secretly trying to help him out. ‘‘Well, thanks.’’
‘‘I swear I’m not stalling.’’
‘‘Okay, okay.’’
‘‘And I have to agree with Edith Mae that you look like hell. What’s the deal?’’
‘‘Jeremy, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.’’
‘‘Now you’ve made me curious. How about meeting me for a beer later on at the Big Knobian?’’
‘‘Man, I would love to, but I don’t think I have the time.’’ Skunks to save, sex benches to build, Maggie to distract, not to mention the job to finish over at Calvin Gilmore’s house.
‘‘Maybe later, then. I want to know what’s going on with you.’’
You’re not the only one. Sean bid him good-bye and turned back to Bob, who was ready to ask some questions about how this had happened. Sean only hoped he’d be able to see well enough to sign his name on the report.
The day had been a series of disasters, but he couldn’t write it off as shitty all the way around. There had been that one shining moment when, thanks to his intervention, Maggie had enjoyed an orgasm. As far as Sean was concerned, that balanced out everything else.
Maggie was convinced Sean had run into Edith Mae Hoogstraten because his eyesight hadn’t improved the way he’d imagined it had when they were at the house. If he hadn’t loaned her his glasses, this wouldn’t have happened. She didn’t want to feel guilty about that, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. He’d looked so miserable and embarrassed standing there in the middle of Fifth Street.
‘‘I can’t figure out what’s happened to Sean,’’ Denise said as the three of them walked back to her office and Jeremy returned to the malfunctioning computer.
‘‘Yeah, it’s weird.’’ Jeremy had removed the computer’s casing and was fiddling with its insides. ‘‘He doesn’t look like himself. It’s almost like his ugly twin showed up and took his place.’’
Maggie continued to gaze out the plate glass window at Sean, who was still talking to the sheriff. ‘‘Does he have a twin?’’
‘‘Nah.’’ Jeremy continued to tinker with the computer. ‘‘He’s an only child, which is too bad, considering that his dad left town when Sean was seven and his mother died when he was eighteen. So far as I know, he doesn’t have any other family. I think that’s why he’s so protective of the skunks.’’
Maggie turned. She’d heard something about skunks while they were all standing in the street, but she hadn’t been able to follow what was going on. ‘‘What’s happening with the skunks?’’
‘‘Oh, it’s ridiculous,’’ Denise said. ‘‘Nobody in their right mind harbors skunks under their house. I’m not a big Clara Loudermilk fan, but in this case, I think she’s right. They need to go.’’
‘‘Plenty of women in this town wanted the skunks out of there long ago, but Sean insisted they kept him from being mobbed,’’ Jeremy said. ‘‘Nobody would sneak up on him at night, for fear they’d get sprayed.’’
Denise pulled out a file drawer with enough force to make it clang. ‘‘He couldn’t install an alarm system? If you ask me, he’s too lazy to get rid of them.’’
‘‘No, I think he’s actually attached to them, believe it or not,’’ Jeremy said.
Maggie’s picture of Sean was changing rapidly. She’d never known a man with sympathy for skunks. Being a city girl, she didn’t know much about skunks, either. Her only experience came from Disney cartoons, where the skunks were cute.
She glanced out the window again. Sean climbed back in his truck, and Bob moved Edith Mae’s Buick. Neither of the vehicles seemed the worse for the collis
ion. In Houston no one would take any notice of such a minor accident, but here it was front-page news.
If everyone got so worked up about a little fender bender, she could just imagine their reaction to a SaveALot being built on the edge of town. It would be the topic of conversation for months. Her decision to locate the store here would have a huge impact on Big Knob and its inhabitants.
She’d known that intellectually before, but now she understood it on a gut level. The impact on the town would be considerable and could end up being very positive for many people. Just not Sean. As she watched his pickup move carefully down the street, she felt an intense pang of regret. Whether she meant to or not, she was about to smash his dreams to bits.
Chapter 13
Sean parked in front of the Lowells’ house. Carrying the silver candlesticks, he navigated the wooden steps leading up to the front porch with great care. All he needed was to trip and fall on his face.
Then again, nothing could be more embarrassing than sideswiping Edith Mae Hoogstraten. In all the years she’d been weaving down Fifth Street, not one person had run into her. He was the first idiot to accomplish it.
Dorcas and Ambrose had to do something about his condition. His bad eyesight would keep him from finding the poison set out for the skunks. The Lowells might not care about that, but if he couldn’t see, he couldn’t work, so if they wanted their sex bench, they’d better cough up an antidote.
The oh-so-classy doorbell chime set his teeth on edge. Everything had seemed wonderful last night, with the great wine and the delicious food. He’d had no idea they were planning to mess with him like this.
Dorcas answered the door wearing a soft blue sweater and jeans. And she was blurry, of course.
‘‘Sean! Come in, come in. We’ve been expecting you. How did your rendezvous go?’’
‘‘Never mind that.’’ He could hear some fifties music in the background, some singer his mother used to like. ‘‘I need you to reverse this thing. I can’t see worth a damn, and I—’’
‘‘But we gave you some glasses.’’ She took hold of his arm and drew him inside. ‘‘What happened to them?’’
‘‘See, that’s what I don’t get. This afternoon my eyesight started getting better.’’ The music seemed to be coming from the basement, of all places. Maybe they had a rec room down there with a pool table.
‘‘When did you notice your eyesight improving?’’
‘‘When I found out I could read the label on the wine bottle without them.’’
Dorcas nodded. ‘‘I see. And did you enjoy the wine?’’
‘‘Yeah, sure, but that’s not the point. The point is that I need an antidote to whatever you gave me last night. Ambrose said you don’t have the right herbs, but can’t you substitute something else? Something that’s close?’’
The basement door opened. ‘‘Sean!’’ Ambrose came striding down the hall in a green plaid shirt and cords. He was also blurry, but his out-of-focus face was ruddy, as if he’d been exerting himself. Sabrina trotted after him. ‘‘I was checking out the pipes,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘Good to see you!’’ He stretched out his hand.
Sean shook it out of politeness. ‘‘I would say it’s good to see you, too, except that’s the problem. I can’t see.’’
‘‘Where are your glasses?’’
Dorcas turned to him. ‘‘His eyesight got better this afternoon.’’ She said it with pride, as if she’d somehow accomplished that herself.
‘‘Did it?’’ Ambrose rubbed his hands together. ‘‘That’s great news, just great.’’
‘‘But now it’s worse than ever,’’ Sean said. ‘‘Because of my eyes, I ran into Edith Mae Hoogstraten’s Buick.’’
‘‘Oh, my,’’ Dorcas said. ‘‘From what I hear, no one’s ever done that. Is she okay?’’
‘‘Physically she’s fine, but she’s mad as hell, and there was a big scene in the middle of the street, and I’m sick of this and I want you to fix me.’’
‘‘Come into the parlor,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘We’ll talk.’’ He sounded so irritatingly genteel.
Sean’s anger built. ‘‘I don’t have time to talk. I have a family of skunks to protect.’’
‘‘A what?’’ Ambrose stared at him.
‘‘Skunks. They live under my house, or I should say it’s Clem Loudermilk’s house, and his wife, Clara, wants them out, so Bob set out poison this afternoon.’’
‘‘That’s terrible,’’ Dorcas said. ‘‘You have to gather up the poison before night comes.’’
‘‘I can’t because I can’t see it.’’ Music still wafted up from the basement. Sean found himself trying to identify the singer. Bobby Darin, maybe? ‘‘I want to trap the skunks and take them out into the woods where they’ll be safe, but I can’t do any of that with my eyes like this.’’
‘‘And you don’t want to ask Maggie to give back your glasses?’’ Dorcas asked.
‘‘No, because she needs . . . Wait a minute. I didn’t tell you Maggie had them. How did you know that?’’
‘‘Come in and sit down,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘Dorcas, don’t you have something you can give Sean?’’
‘‘Let me go look.’’
Sean agreed to go into the parlor and sit on the sofa, but he didn’t sink back onto the purple cushions. He remained stiff and determined, ready to fight for what he needed. Sabrina followed them into the room and rubbed against his leg. He stroked her soft black fur, but he kept his gaze on Ambrose, who lounged in a wingback chair next to the sofa.
‘‘Who’s that singing on the CD you have going?’’ Sean asked.
‘‘Frankie Avalon.’’
‘‘Oh.’’ Sean remembered now. His mom used to love that guy. But just because Ambrose and Dorcas liked him, too, that didn’t mean Sean could trust them.
‘‘It’s admirable that you want to save the skunks,’’ Ambrose said.
‘‘Whatever.’’ Unwilling to be flattered out of his bad mood, he skewered Ambrose with a look. ‘‘Dorcas talked to Maggie this afternoon, didn’t she?’’
‘‘I don’t think so.’’
‘‘Come on. That’s the only way she’d know that I gave away my glasses. Whatever game you’re playing, I want it to stop. If you’ll just change me back the way I was, I can handle this situation without any interference from you.’’
‘‘Hostility isn’t going to help, Sean.’’
‘‘I’ll bet if you had this happen you’d be cranky, too. The changes went way too far. Nothing’s the same, not even my privates.’’
Ambrose pressed his lips together, obviously trying to hold back a smile.
‘‘Go ahead and laugh. Wouldn’t be so funny if it was your dick that had shrunk, now, would it?’’
‘‘I’m sure not.’’ Ambrose cleared his throat. ‘‘But you have to admit you got what you wanted. Women leave you alone now.’’
Sean scowled at him. ‘‘Some consolation. Now I’m helpless to stop Maggie from buying that property.’’
‘‘I wouldn’t say that. I think you have many— Ah, here’s Dorcas.’’
Dorcas walked in carrying a plastic shopping bag, which was a good sign. Sean assumed the antidote was in there. No matter how obnoxious the stuff was, he’d take it. He’d eat rabbit turds if they would do the trick.
Sabrina bounded over to the bag and danced around it, reaching up to bat it with her paw.
‘‘It’s not for you,’’ Dorcas said to the cat. ‘‘It’s for Sean.’’ She handed him the bag. ‘‘Let me know if these work.’’
Sabrina hopped up on his lap as he peered into the bag, which contained several little packets tied with purple ribbon. Finally. Sabrina kept trying to get in the bag, and he had to keep nudging her back.
On top of the packets lay another pair of black-framed glasses. They were even uglier and in worse shape than the first pair. The nosepiece was held together with white adhesive tape.
Sean pulled out the glasses and held the
bag closed so Sabrina couldn’t climb in. ‘‘These are to tide me over, right? Until the antidote works?’’
‘‘What antidote?’’ Dorcas said.
‘‘Isn’t that what’s in the packages?’’ Still holding Sabrina away, he took one out and held it up. It smelled funky, like last week’s garbage. Sabrina started to meow.
‘‘That’s skunk bait. It will attract the skunks into the cage you build, and once they eat it, they’ll become mildly sedated, so they’ll be easier to transport.’’
Sean stood to get away from Sabrina, who was going a little crazy wanting whatever was in the packet. ‘‘These are all skunk bait?’’
‘‘Yes. I put in four, which should be enough.’’
‘‘I thought you were getting something to help me!’’
Sabrina put her paws up on his leg and meowed again.
‘‘This will help you.’’
‘‘Not with Maggie, it won’t!’’ Sean felt panic set in. ‘‘You have to give me some herbs to reverse this condition, at least a little bit. You have to.’’
Dorcas folded her hands in front of her. ‘‘Sean, I would if I could, but it’s not possible. You’ll have to deal with this for the next two weeks.’’
Sean stood there a moment, stunned by his incredible bad luck. In two weeks his plans would be wrecked. He wanted to lash out at Dorcas and Ambrose, but this was his own damn fault. He’d rushed into something he knew nothing about, and he was about to pay the price.
He put on the taped glasses. At least now he could see. Then he looked at the two people who had helped him trash his future. He couldn’t protect himself, but he would protect the skunks. ‘‘How do I know this bait won’t hurt them?’’
‘‘Open a packet and give a little to Sabrina. She loves it. When we travel, I give her some, which keeps her calm for the trip.’’
That reminded Sean of Maggie’s suspicion that the Lowells were on the run. ‘‘I don’t remember hearing where you moved from.’’
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