by Mary Lindsey
“Well, go check out the store, and if it’s not a good fit, come join the track team. I’m the captain. We need another sprinter, and the coach is interested in you.” His eyes traveled past Rain’s shoulder to the bleachers. “I think someone else is interested in you, too.”
Freddie was seated on the top row, long legs crossed and arms draped casually over the back of the railing like she owned the place.
“Proceed with caution,” Grant said. “She and her kind are a whole mess of trouble.”
So much for liking the guy. “What do you mean, ‘her kind’?”
Grant’s smile slipped for a moment then flashed again. “Oh, I mean her family. They’re a rare breed.” He studied Rain for a moment, then arched an eyebrow. “But, hey, you look like you’re up for a challenge. If she’s your kind of thing…” He delivered a friendly punch on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
Kind of thing? “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Grant was the third person to warn him off Freddie. Either he was getting his signals all wrong, or everyone else was. Ridiculous small-town bullshit.
When he looked back up at the bleachers, Freddie was gone.
Seven
Aunt Ruby’s house was only a few blocks from the high school, so ordinarily, Rain would walk to and from. Not today. On the way back from Mrs. Goff’s place last night, he’d told his aunt that he wanted to look for a job, and she’d offered to pick him up from school and introduce him to people in town. Having a cop introduce you surely couldn’t hurt a job search.
“Hey,” she called from the open cruiser window as she pulled to the curb. He’d never warmed up to someone as fast as he had his aunt Ruby. Maybe it was the fact she was his mother’s twin and looked so familiar. Maybe it was her genuine friendliness. But as much as she put him at ease, he was certain he’d never be comfortable getting into a police car. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“No biggie. My shift ended at three.” She signaled and pulled out onto the street. “How’d your day go?”
An image of Freddie leaning against the lockers wearing that sexy, confident smile flickered in his mind, and he fought back a grin, shrugging noncommittally instead. “Nobody got hurt.” Which was true, but just barely.
She turned the corner at the stop sign, heading toward the main strip, if you could call it that. Downtown New Wurzburg was nothing more than a few knickknack stores, a gas station, and a beer garden. Nearby Fredericksburg was bigger—and that didn’t say much.
“Well, nobody getting hurt is a ringing endorsement,” she said.
“It is where I come from.”
She glanced over momentarily, and her face clouded. Pity? Regret? Hard to tell. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
“Any idea what kind of job you want?” she asked.
“Got a line on an opening at Ericksen Hardware. You know it?”
“Sure do.” She smiled and hooked a U-turn.
“That was an illegal turn!”
“Livin’ on the edge. Hopefully I won’t catch myself and give me a ticket.”
She winked, and he thought of how his mom’s life could have been so different—how their lives could have been different. He placed his palm over the dull pain in the center of his chest. Her warm, funny twin was everything his mother hadn’t been.
“Why did my mom leave here?”
Her expression went completely flat, like Old Jim’s did when he talked about serving in Vietnam. “Some people just don’t like small-town life, I guess.”
But his mom hadn’t had any kind of life. They’d bounced from one shelter to the next, even sleeping on the streets and eating out of dumpsters when things were really bad. They could have been here, living in a Christmas card town with its old-fashioned storefronts and single stoplight. He could have grown up in a warm house instead of a living hell. Why had she done it?
“You okay, Aaron?”
He hadn’t realized they’d stopped until the car motor fell silent. Relaxing his clenched fists, he took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“I read your files.”
Ah, here it comes. “Juvie or CPS?”
“Both.”
Great. No doubt she’d find a way to send him away now that she knew what kind of shitstorm she’d taken on. He stared at his hands and waited for the hammer to drop.
“I had them sent right after I got the call from your social worker—the night Lynn died.”
That was weeks ago. “What took you so long to read them?”
She lifted her hand from the steering wheel, and for a moment, he thought she was going to touch him, but instead, her arm dropped limply in her lap. “I read them all the next morning when they were faxed to the station. Then several more times the following day. That’s when I decided to agree to the judge’s request to bring you here.”
His throat tightened to the point it was hard to swallow. She’d brought him here knowing who and what he was. Studying her face, he realized there were some tiny lines on the outside of her eyes he hadn’t noticed before, the kind that come from laughing a lot. But there was also a little wrinkle down the middle of her forehead, like a permanent reminder of a dark expression.
“I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to,” she said.
Those were the same words he’d said to Freddie. He shook his head to clear it. Ruby knew all the shit he’d done. All the trouble he’d been in, and still, she offered kindness. “Thanks.”
“Now, go get that job so you can afford some wheels. Chauffeuring you around is going to grow old real quick.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Warm wind swirled around him, ruffling his hair as he stepped out of the car that had suddenly seemed way too cramped.
“I’ve got an errand to run. I’ll be back in thirty, okay?”
“Sure.” He paused halfway through closing the door. “Hey, Aunt Ruby…” Leaning down to see inside the cruiser, he marveled again at how similar she looked to his mother. “Thanks…you know, for taking me on and all. I’m not gonna let you down.”
With a tightening of her lips, she nodded and started the car. And as he watched her back out of the parking space, that line on her forehead that had only been a shadow before became a deep crease.
…
The woman behind the counter at Ericksen Hardware and Feed leaned closer to get a better look at Rain through her thick glasses. “You say Grant sent you here about a job?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
One painted-on eyebrow arched, and she gave him another once-over. The kind of skeptical look you give a coat at the resale store before you pass on it—or maybe more like the look you give a piece of garbage as you pitch it in the dumpster.
“Stay,” she ordered, then disappeared through a set of swinging double doors behind her.
Stay? Weird, but whatever. The place seemed okay enough. Old-fashioned, but that was probably the norm around here. Shovels, rakes, and yard tools hung in racks on the wall to his right, and on shelves beyond, fertilizers and bug poisons. Down the left wall, power tools, screws, nails, and hardware were displayed in bins, buckets, and on hooks. There was only enough room to house a couple of racks in the middle, containing everything from windbreakers to rain boots to camping equipment. Ropes, garden hoses, and other stuff hung from hooks on the ceiling, giving the small store a cramped, cave-like feel.
After several minutes, a girl who looked to be in middle school came out from the same doorway. Like Grant, she was attractive with blond curls. She stared at him for a long time, and he resisted the urge to look down to make sure he still had clothes on. He’d never been scrutinized like this before. First the woman, now this kid. What was with these people?
“You’re the new guy in town everyone’s talking about.” Her voice was calm and low, mature, like she was a much older person stuck in a kid’s body. “The police officer’s nephew.”
“Yeah.”
She raised her chin. “You should be more respectful.”
“So should you.”
&n
bsp; “Saying ‘yeah’ is rude.”
“So is staring.”
Her eyebrow arched, just like the woman’s had a few moments ago. “You’re dark.”
What did that mean?
“You should have red hair. You come from redheaded stock. Your sire was dark-haired, though, I’m told.”
What a weird kid. If the words weren’t off-putting enough, her haughty tone certainly was.
“But you have height and strength, which is what we need.”
So, they must be looking for a stocker, or maybe someone to deal with the small lumberyard he saw out back when Ruby dropped him off.
The woman stuck her head through the doorway. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“When will you be eighteen?”
“Next month.”
“I need a few minutes to discuss this with my husband.” She nodded and disappeared again.
The kid gave him the creeps the way she never took her eyes off him. She didn’t even blink. “There a bathroom I can use?” he asked.
“Through there.” She pointed to a door just past the fertilizer on the right side of the store. He didn’t really need to take a leak, but getting away from the freaky kid for a few minutes worked. He closed and locked the door to the small bathroom and leaned against the paneling next to the sink with a sigh, then tensed all over again when the woman’s voice drifted through the wall behind him.
“Grant texted. He believes this one’s a good fit.”
Rain held his breath, listening to the muffled voice. The bathroom must’ve backed up to whatever room the woman was in.
“Well, he said that last time, too, and we know how that one turned out,” a male voice replied.
“That was unfortunate, but Grant believes—”
“Grant is not in charge yet.”
“But this is his responsibility. You turned her over to him.”
Huh. They referred to the store as a “her” like you would a ship or a car. The dude was only a senior in high school, and he already owned a business. Lucky bastard.
“Compatibility?” the male asked.
“He just texted that there was a display of receptiveness, which is more than we’ve had with the others.”
What the hell? They must have a hard time hanging on to employees. No wonder, with the freaky behavior.
“Well, give him a job and keep him close. Maybe this one will last long enough to settle things down. If not, I’m revoking Grant’s sponsorship.”
“Charles, no.”
“We can’t afford another loss. No matter what or who. Go hire the kid and warn your son what’s at stake.”
What kind of place was this if they couldn’t keep employees? No way was he working here. No way in hell.
“Oh, and call Ulrich Burkhart. Tell him to keep his niece in line this time, or I’ll deal with her myself.”
Ulrich… Freddie and her three friends mentioned Uncle Ulrich. These people were talking about Freddie.
The male cleared his throat. “And one more thing. Tell Ulrich if she isn’t willing to step up once she graduates, she’s finished. We’d be better off with Kurt anyway.”
“You wouldn’t. Charles, no. It would break Grant’s heart.”
“Try me.”
What the actual hell was going on here? Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good for Freddie. A door opened and closed on the other side of the wall.
Gooseflesh crept up Rain’s arms and back. Something here was off. Way off. He should head straight from this bathroom out the front door and not look back. And he would have, were it not for Freddie. He’d told her she could trust him. What kind of chickenshit move would it be to bail after hearing that kind of craziness? He had no clue what they were talking about, but he was damn sure going to find out.
He flushed the toilet just in case someone was nearby, then ran the sink for good measure. Yeah. He’d take this job and get to the bottom of whatever creepy shit was happening. As for “this one” lasting long enough, they could damn well bet on it. He’d dealt with a lot more crap than any stupid job could dish out. Bring it, assholes.
Eight
“So, how’d it go?” Ruby asked as Rain got in the car in the Ericksen Hardware and Feed parking lot.
“Well, I got the job.” He hoped he came across as normal and not nervous.
“That’s great news, Aaron! Did you get to meet Ellen and Charles Ericksen? Ellen’s in my book club and is super nice.”
Well, wasn’t that interesting? Maybe he needed to hang around the house during that meeting after all. “Didn’t meet him, but she seemed okay. I start on Monday.”
“Oh, that’s fabulous. What will you be doing?”
When he glanced through the windshield at the building, the weird girl was watching him through the window. Figuring out what the hell is going on around here. No wonder Freddie had that scared look in her eyes when she thought no one was watching. “Stocking shelves, mostly.”
For a moment, he thought she was going to hug him, which honestly would’ve been okay considering how uptight he was, but she started the car instead. “We should celebrate.”
Yeah. Celebrate a job where they can’t keep employees and the owner had some kind of problem with Freddie.
“First, this.” She pulled a brand-new cell phone from a bag stowed between her and the door.
“Aunt Ruby. I can’t—”
She thrust it into his palm. “You can, and you will. It’s as much for me as you. It’ll be much easier for both of us if I can reach you. Besides, I’m hoping you’ll make some friends and this will be useful when that happens, too. Right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He turned it over in his hand. He’d never had a cell phone before. Most of the guys back home did, usually jacked from somebody or cheap burner phones, but since he didn’t deal or use, he hadn’t needed one. His lungs felt tight, like he couldn’t take a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you?” she teased.
“Thanks.” He smiled, which was no easy feat, and she smiled back, making it worth the effort.
“It’s hard for you to accept gifts, isn’t it?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Not really. I’ve taken handouts my whole life.”
“This isn’t a handout.” She squeezed his shoulder. “We’re family, Aaron. You’re my only family left.”
Something in him clicked into place. She was in the same boat as he was—they were in this together. The thought alone made his lungs feel less constricted.
She sniffed, started the car, and backed out of the parking space. “I’ve already programmed some numbers in your phone. My cell, the police station, and the pizza delivery place. You should probably add the hardware store now, too.”
The girl was still watching through the storefront window. Yeah. Enter it as Hell’s Hardware and Freak Show Feed.
Instead of heading east toward home, she turned west and soon pulled into a fenced lot with several corrugated-metal storage sheds. “But the phone’s not the best part.” She looked younger when she grinned, and he found her obvious joy contagious. She turned over a cinderblock next to the door of the end unit and snatched a small silver key from the block’s rectangular footprint in the dirt. “The best part,” she said, inserting and turning the key in the lock. “Is…” The lock clicked open, and she yanked on the door with a grunt, swinging it wide to reveal what appeared to be old car-engine parts, several large toolboxes on wheels, a painted wooden rowboat, and two bright-red motorcycles. No, not motorcycles—they were more like the motocross bikes Rain had seen on those insane X-game shows in the shelter lobby. “This!” She propped the door open with the cinderblock and strolled inside to stand between the bikes.
Her grin seemed forced as she patted the seat of the larger one. “This one’s yours.”
He’d heard of people being speechless, but this was the first time it had ever happened to him. She couldn’t possibly be serious.
She rolled it out into the sunlight, and he noticed her smile had faded. “Well, it used to be your dad’s, but it’s yours now.” She blinked several times rapidly and took a deep breath. Something was off. “Ever ridden one?”
“No.”
She rolled it close and leaned the bike toward him. “Hold this.”
“Aunt Ruby—”
“Just hold it while I get the other one, okay?”
Yeah, something was definitely off. She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand as he took the bike by the handlebars and balanced it upright.
She rolled the other one from the shed. “Riding these bikes is easy. Do you have a driver’s license?”
“No.”
“Have you taken driver’s ed?” Her voice was strained, like she was struggling hard to not lose it.
“Took the book part. It was offered at school. I couldn’t afford the practical driving part of the course, and I didn’t figure I’d ever drive… Aunt Ruby, we need to talk.”
“Well, at least you have a general understanding of the rules of the road.” She was talking faster now. Like it was a rehearsed speech.
“Aunt Ruby, stop.” He put down the kickstand and rolled the bike back until it was locked in place while she rattled on like her life depended on it.
“I know you don’t have a license yet, but nobody around here cares if you stay on the small back roads and you don’t ride like a jackass.” By this point, tears were rolling unchecked down her face as she gripped the bike.
Taking her by the shoulders, he gave a slight shake “Ruby!”
“Oh God.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Aaron. I thought I could…”
He put down the kickstand on her bike, then rounded it to pull her into a hug. Something he’d never done in his lifetime. His mother recoiled from his touch, and he’d never been close enough to anyone else to offer comfort.
As he held the sobbing woman, he realized it was as beneficial for him as it was for her. He needed this. Human contact. Messy. Complicated. Essential. Something he hadn’t known he was missing.