by Linz, Cathie
“The rumor mill at work again.” Luke removed his leather jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. “Did you also hear we’re raising the price of our burgers?”
“That her idea?”
“Who?”
“The librarian with the llamas.”
“What makes you think it was her idea? You don’t think I can come up with a business concept on my own?”
Adele shrugged. “I’m just saying that you go visit her and come back here announcing the price of the burgers is going up. Anything else you want to raise? Because if we’re reprinting the menus, you might as well get it all done with at once.”
“Who said anything about reprinting the menus?”
“How else were you planning on letting the customers know about the price change?”
“By writing it in.”
Adele made a face. “That’s tacky.”
“So?”
“So my cooking deserves better than tacky menus.”
“Printing new menus costs money.”
“You have to spend money to make money.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. It’s a well-known fact.”
“It’s not known by me. We’re writing on the menus. Get over it.”
“You’re just a regular bluebird of happiness today, aren’t you?”
“I had a run-in with a sanctimonious idiot named Walt.”
“And what did our illustrious mayor have to say?”
“The guy’s a maggot.”
“I believe he’s a Republican.”
“I thought they believed in government staying out of people’s business.”
“That’s part of their national platform, I believe, yes.”
“Then where does Walt get off telling people how high their grass can grow? He actually had a ruler in his hand.”
“Well, they passed an ordinance, you know. To keep the town looking good.”
“How did they get away with that?”
Adele shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Lots of stupid things do. That’s why you give them further thought.”
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty,” she replied. “Listen, since you’re redoing the menus, I think we should add sweet potato fries. They’re always popular when I make them, but not everyone knows about them because they aren’t listed anywhere.”
Luke belatedly recalled Julia’s comment about the menu needing some sprucing up.
“I’m not adding anything tofu,” he warned Adele.
“Veggie burgers might be a good idea. I’ve got a file full of ideas.” She hustled over to a small table in the corner of the kitchen. “Your dad refused to change anything.”
Which made Luke want to turn everything upside down.
“I met the nicest man down by the library,” Angel told Julia.
“What was his name?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
Don’t let it be the library director, Julia prayed. “What did he look like? What did you say to him?”
“That big business was trying to ruin yet another scenic spot.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Serenity Falls. The waterfalls.”
“You went to see them?”
“No, but I was told they are beautiful. And that a big company wants to bottle the spring water and sell it.”
“Those are only rumors at this point.”
“That’s always how these things start out. As rumors. Then, by the time you wake up and smell the coffee, it’s a done deal.”
“What did this guy look like?”
“He had the saddest eyes.”
“That doesn’t give me much to go on.”
“He had long gray hair that was held back in a braid.”
“That would be Tyler.”
“Who is he?”
“He does odd jobs around town. No one really knows much about him.”
“He seemed like someone I could really talk to. Aside from the fact that he also appeared to be a man of few words.”
Julia could see how her mom could relate to Tyler.
“We should invite him over for dinner sometime soon,” Angel said.
“I don’t actually know him.”
“Well, I do.”
“You just met him today.”
“Julia thinks you shouldn’t have sex with a guy you just met today,” Skye stated as she strolled into the kitchen and grabbed an apple. “Are these organically grown?”
“I don’t think so,” Julia replied.
“Where’s the closest organic market?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you have any idea of what kind of pesticides are used on stuff like this?” Skye held up the apple as if it were radioactive and might start glowing any second.
“I’d have to get organic food before I could invite Tyler to dinner,” Angel said. “I can check the Internet to find the closest organic market.”
“Since when do you surf the Internet?” Julia demanded.
“Angel is a pro,” Skye said. “That’s how she got Ricky and Lucy. Via the Internet.”
“You ordered them over the Internet?”
Angel nodded, looking quite pleased with herself. “More or less. I joined some listserves with other folks interested in llamas and got to know some people there. Those connections led me to Ricky and Lucy.”
“They can’t stay in my backyard.”
“Of course not,” Angel agreed. “That’s only temporary.”
That gave Julia hope. Her mother had been reasonable about the llamas. Maybe that meant she had a plan after all. One that didn’t involve crashing at Julia’s house.
But Julia couldn’t rely on that. “My neighbor may have somewhere they can go. Her cousin owns a farm nearby.” She paused as the phone rang. It was Mrs. Selznick.
“My cousin, the one who owns the dairy farm, is out of town at a funeral,” Mrs. Selznick said. “I won’t be able to reach him until the middle of the week. I could call him on his cell, but I didn’t want to bother him at the moment.”
“Of course not. I understand. We can wait a few days.”
“What do llamas eat?”
“I’m not sure, but my mother knows. They’re her llamas.”
“They don’t consume small house-pets, do they?”
“I’m sure they don’t.”
“Because I wouldn’t want anything happening to my little Terminator. He’s highly excitable, you know.”
Mrs. Selznick’s chihuahua got the shakes if anyone even glanced in his direction. “Yes, I know.”
“And seeing another life form so large might be stressful for him.”
“I understand.”
“I got him from the lady who ran my Spanish class.” Mrs. Selznick was addicted to taking classes. From Chinese cooking to tap dancing, you name it, she’d probably taken a class about it. “Her husband retired and was mean to the poor little guy. So naturally I had to take him and rescue him from such a bad situation.”
“Un-huh.” Julia’s attention was wandering to where her mother and sister were huddled together—studying the contents of her fridge and shaking their heads. Not a good sign.
“I heard a rumor that you might be using the llamas as prognosticators. Does that mean that if there’s a gas leak or something, that they’d die first and alert us? Like canaries in the coal mines?”
“No. The groundhog is a prognosticator, foretelling the future weather.”
“And llamas can do that sort of thing, too? Tell us if we’re going to have a longer winter?”
“That’s a possibility I’m investigating.”
“Well, that’s exciting, dear. It may well be an advantage for us to have in our efforts regarding the Best Small Towns in America judges. I wonder if any other towns have llamas like that?”
“I’m going to have my mother research that on the Internet.”
“I wanted to take a course ab
out the Internet, but it was full by the time I registered.”
“That’s too bad.” Julia waved her mother and sister away from her fridge, but they ignored her and opened a large garbage bag instead. “Listen, Mrs. Selznick, I’ve got to go now.”
“Okay.”
“Please let me know when you speak to your cousin and pass on my sympathies to him. Good-bye.”
The instant she hung up the phone, Julia raced over to protect her food. “What are you doing?” She grabbed a container of Cool Whip from her mother’s hands. “Put that back!”
“It’s full of chemicals. And artificial sweeteners.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” Angel yanked the container away from her and dropped it into the garbage bag that was already half-full. “Your body is a temple. You should honor it by only allowing pure foods to enter.”
Julia stood spread-eagle in front of her open fridge, her hands gripping the edges.
“Step away from my refrigerator!” she ordered them both. Her kick-butt Carmen Diaz personality was back.
“Now, Julia, we’re only doing this for your own good,” Angel said in a soothing voice.
Skye was blunter. “The chemicals in all this processed food have clearly messed up your mind.”
No, Skye and Angel were doing that. They were the ones messing up her mind.
“This is my house, and you’ve got no right to tell me what I can have in my own fridge.” There, she’d made her stand. Drew her line in the sand. Made her feelings known.
Two seconds later, Toni walked up and bit Julia right above her kneecap.
“Ow!” Julia had to hop away from the fridge over to a chair, where she sat and stared at the set of teethmarks on her skin.
Angel shook her head. “You see, even a small child realizes that this food is bad for you and should be removed.”
Julia stared at her in disbelief. “She bit me!”
Angel shrugged. “Her way of communicating to you that you were behaving inappropriately.”
“Me? She’s the one doing damage. I told you, no biting.” Julia fixed Toni with her best librarian stare.
Toni responded by sticking out her tongue at her. “I don’t like you.”
“I don’t like you, either.”
“That’s not nice,” Angel told Julia.
“She started it,” Julia muttered.
How had she ended up like this, bitten and battered, so quickly? Her family hadn’t even been in town for twenty-four hours, and already she’d been reduced to arguing with a child who could give that shark from Jaws a run for his money.
All in all, it was a sad state of affairs and one she resolved to get under control—right after she went to the store and got more Cool Whip. First things first.
“Are you Luke Maguire?” a nun asked him.
He eyed her suspiciously. He wouldn’t put it past the loco mayor to have called in religious experts to perform an exorcism on him, so he wasn’t really eager to identify himself without additional intel. “Who wants to know?”
“I do.” She extended her hand and gave him an unexpectedly firm handshake. “I’m Sister Mary with the Sisters of the Poor Charities from over in Rock Creek.”
“Oh, right.” Luke remembered belatedly that he’d called them first thing this morning and been told everything would be picked up between four and five. “The stuff is all upstairs. I’ll show you and then you can have the guys move it.”
“There are no guys. There’s just me and Sister Margaret.” She tilted her head toward the beanpole tall nun beside her.
Neither woman was what you’d call athletic . . . or young.
“That won’t work.”
Sister Mary’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s too much heavy furniture and other stuff for the two of you to carry it.”
“I can assure you that Sister Margaret and I have hauled plenty of heavy items into the truck before.”
Luke frowned at that news. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d set foot in a church, but still . . . Nuns and little old ladies deserved certain courtesies. “It’s not right.”
“Well, perhaps not, but volunteers are hard to come by these days.”
“You’re telling me you can’t round up a few guys to do the heavy lifting?”
“Are you telling me you’re volunteering to assist us?”
Luke hesitated. The plan was for the charity to haul the stuff out without him having to deal with it or see it again.
“I didn’t think so,” the nun noted briskly. “Come along, Sister Margaret.”
Luke put his hand out. “Hang on. For God’s sake . . .”
She fixed him with a steely glare. “Do not take the Lord’s name in vain, young man.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll go round up some guys. Give me a few minutes.”
“You’re welcome to try. Meanwhile, Sister Margaret and I will go on up and see what is involved.”
“Don’t lift anything heavy,” Luke warned them.
It was Sunday. Who could he get?
He checked with Adele. She’d know what to do.
“Try Big Al a few doors down,” she suggested. “He owns Cosmic Comics and should be closing up about now. I’ll contact Tyler and see if he can come over.”
The CLOSED sign hung on the door of Cosmic Comics, but the lights were still on so Luke banged on the door.
“Open up!” His years in the FBI guaranteed that the order was obeyed. But not happily.
“We’re closed,” a big black guy growled.
Luke actually had to look up to meet his eyes. The guy was a giant. He had to stand at least six-foot-five and weigh more than three hundred pounds. He had the build of someone who’d spent plenty of time doing physical labor, and he reminded Luke of that actor from The Green Mile—another bear of a man.
“You Big Al?”
“Who wants to know?” he repeated Luke’s earlier words.
“Me and the Sisters of the Poor Charities.”
“Look, I give to United Way once a year, and that’s it.” He went to close the door again, the overhead lights shining on his smoothly shaved bald head.
“No, wait.” Luke shoved his foot in the doorway. “I need your help.”
“And you are?”
“Luke Maguire.”
“The new owner of Maguire’s?”
“Yeah.”
“So?”
“So I’ve got these two nuns at my place—”
“Whoa man, I’m not into those two nuns, a rabbi, and a priest walked into a bar jokes.”
“I’m serious. I need help carrying some furniture out to their truck.”
“Whose truck?”
“The nuns’.”
“Since when do nuns drive a truck?” His look turned increasingly suspicious. “Is this some kind of Halloween scam?”
“No, look, I’m donating a bunch of furniture to this charity for the needy. Only they don’t have anyone to carry it. I need another set of hands, Big Al.”
“The name’s Algee Washington,” he said. “Only buddies are allowed to call me Big Al.”
“Sorry. Adele sent me over.”
“Well, hell, why didn’t you say so in the first place? I’d do anything for her. Let me just grab my keys and set the alarm.” A second later, he’d switched off the lights and joined Luke on the sidewalk. “Lead me to the nuns.”
Of course the two sisters hadn’t obeyed Luke’s orders, and he and Algee walked into the upstairs apartment to find the nuns struggling at either end of a table. “Put that down,” Luke ordered.
They obeyed. “I’m sorry. We thought all the furniture in this room was being donated.”
“It is, but I told you two not to carry anything heavy.”
“Which is why we didn’t pick up the couch,” Sister Mary retorted in exasperation.
“Allow me to assist you, sisters,” Algee said with enough charm to stop an elephant in its tracks
.
Sister Margaret giggled like a schoolgirl but Sister Mary kept her mind on business, directing them all with efficient orders.
Tyler showed up a few minutes later. Even with Algee and Tyler’s help, it still took more than an hour to move all the stuff out.
“You sure you don’t want this talking mackerel?” Algee asked.
Luke nodded. “Positive.”
“And the beer collection? Seems the perfect thing for a tavern to have.”
Luke shot him one of his don’t-give-me-any-more-crap looks, one of several things he’d picked up in the Marine Corps. “The point is to get rid of this junk, not try in vain to talk me into keeping it.”
“You could probably get good money for this beer can collection on eBay,” Algee added.
“Hear that sisters?” Luke pointed to the three boxes. “You can get good money for the beer can collection on eBay. Go for it.”
“Excellent idea,” Sister Mary said before turning to Tyler. “We have warm meals at the shelter in Rock Springs if you need any assistance.”
“He just looks homeless, but he’s not,” Algee said on Tyler’s behalf.
“He’s probably socking all his money into some investment portfolio on the stock market,” Luke said.
“Is that true?” Obviously not one to be distracted from a possible noble cause, Sister Mary laid her hand on Tyler’s arm, right above a tear in his flannel shirt.
“I’m not investing in the stock market.” Tyler’s voice sounded rusty. “Don’t worry about me, sister. There are plenty of folks worse off than I am.”
“If you ever want to talk . . .”
“I’m not one for much talking,” Tyler said curtly.
Sister Mary nodded her understanding and removed her hand. “If you should change your mind, here’s my card.” She handed it to him. “The offer goes for you, too, Luke.”
He frowned, not at all pleased to be lumped in the same category as Tyler.
But Luke still retained enough of a trace of manners not to reject the card the nun handed him. “I don’t need any help,” he said. “I just want to get rid of all this junk, that’s all.”
“Ridding yourself of the material goods doesn’t mean you’ll rid yourself of the memories,” Sister Mary said.
The knowing look in her eyes remained with Luke long after she’d left, making him feel guilty for tossing the card she’d given him . . . but not preventing him from pitching it anyway.