Hopper House (The Jenkins Cycle Book 3)

by John L. Monk

  Thank goodness Nate wasn’t like the minister. If His Holiness looked at me that way, I’d be crawling on my knees.

  Returning the look with wide-eyed innocence, I said, “Sure is cold out here.”

  Nate’s smile never left his face. “Right. Why don’t we go inside?”

  Though there was an empty spot in the garage, he left the expensive Ferrari in the driveway.

  When we got inside, Tara said, “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

  “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  “Coffee it is,” she said.

  Nate said, “Honey, I don’t think he’s gonna be here long,” but she was already heading to the kitchen.

  We followed her in, and I elbowed Nate. “Bet she’s a Tara in the kitchen, am I right?”

  Tara laughed, then turned around and began heating water for the French press I knew she preferred.

  “So, Dan, where you from?” she said.

  “Virginia,” I said, knowing Nate had lived there.

  Tara seemed to have swallowed my phony story, so I suspected Nate had moved in. I angled for a better view of the living room and saw a man’s mountain bike propped against the wall and a few other items that hadn’t been there when I was Scott. I smiled in surprise at the hideously expensive Hadrosaurus egg nest displayed on a shelf, purchased during a shopping spree with his American Express Platinum Card.

  “So how you liking it here?” I said.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “Tara’s great. Her mom’s up here. We’re trying to talk her into moving with us. Not sure where yet.”

  Tara smiled. “My vote’s for Baja.”

  Nate went over and put his arm around her. She held his hand and kissed it, then smiled at me.

  “So what brings you up this way?” she said.

  “Yeah,” Nate said, watching me steadily with a rictus grin, “what brings you up this way?”

  I shook my head as if making a tough decision. “You know how proud I am…”

  “Uh huh,” he said flatly.

  “Yep,” I said. “So if you absolutely insist on giving me twenty thousand dollars for my hemorrhoid surgery, well, I’ll take it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tara turned quickly away to check the hot water. Then she made a noise that sounded like a sneeze or a cough, or possibly choking. When she turned back around, her face was beet red, and her lips were pressed tightly together.

  Nate mouthed, What the…?

  To Tara I said, “All those years driving school buses for the city, sitting in traffic in the same uncomfortable seat, unable to adjust it or get comfortable no matter how many cushions I used … Then, one time, I got stuck in a snowstorm for seven hours straight. Snowmageddon, they called it. Just me and a bus full of screaming kids. All that yelling and giggling and nonstop sitting caused a rupture of some kind. My doctor said if I don’t get surgery”—I shook my head, sadly—“I’ll never professionally drive again.”

  Tara turned back around and her shoulders shook. The kettle whistled and she took it off the heat, then set about getting our cups ready.

  Nate still hadn’t said anything.

  “Thanks a lot, ol’ buddy,” I said, and shot him a wink.

  “Right,” he said. “Sure. Glad to help. Nice of you to stop by, Dan. I’ll send the check just like we talked about. In about three weeks?”

  Cute.

  “The bank closed my account,” I said. “Cash only, remember?”

  Now it was my turn to feel uncomfortable. The minister had told him to send cash, right?

  “That’s right,” he said. “I forgot about that.”

  The three of us enjoyed our coffee and listened to Tara’s amused account of all the charity work Nate was doing with the church, how they didn’t know what to make of him. I barely paid attention. Mainly I watched her face, marveling at how pretty she looked shining with real happiness.

  When I finished my coffee I said, “Well, it was good seeing you again, Nate. Would have been nice to have a few beers somewhere, catch up on old times.”

  “Yep,” he said, shaking his head, “that would have been nice.”

  I tried another tack. “Wonderful meeting you, Tara. Hope I can find a Hotel that still takes cash. The weather guy said it’ll be really cold tonight, but if I wake up every hour I can keep the car livable…”

  I gave a small shiver at the thought of my chilly fate, then turned slowly toward the front door and the cold, bleak, Ohio weather.

  Outraged, Tara said, “You are not sleeping in your car! We have plenty of room. You’re staying here and that’s final.”

  As if sealing the deal, she poured me another cup of coffee.

  “Well,” I said, taking a sip. “If you insist. Thank you for your generous hospitality.”

  Absently, I noticed she’d added real cream to my coffee. Her husband, Scott, was lactose intolerant. I looked around and didn’t see the non-dairy creamer can. In fact, other than the mountain bike and dinosaur eggs, there were a number of changes. My peek at the living room had revealed all new furniture, a new color palette for the walls, and hardwood floors over what had been beige carpeting. The TV, however, was as big as ever.

  Nate stared at me with scary eyes and an unpleasant grin.

  “I’ll just get my bag from the car,” I said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Nate said, then gave Tara a quick kiss.

  Tamping down a fresh wave of jealousy, I went outside and struggled with envy of a different sort when I saw his cool Ferrari. I had to remind myself not everything was frisbees and rainbows with this guy.

  Years ago, Nate had been engaged to Erika, a woman almost as pretty as he was handsome. Nate was the first more or less innocent ride I’d ever had, and if not for a bizarre mix of good and bad luck, I might have assumed he was another bad guy and killed him. If I hadn’t found any evidence against him, I like to think I would have just moved on, but that choice was taken from me. I got chained to a bed by Erika. Then Rob—an adopted brother, who’d abused him as a child—shot me, and I was kicked out.

  Later that night in another ride, I shot Erika. The only woman I’d ever killed.

  Walking to my car, my neck felt itchy, as if any moment Nate might try to strangle me. Come to think of it, maybe I’d been too hasty in concluding him innocent all those years ago…

  I glanced back at him.

  “Just keep going,” he said.

  After we got to the car, I said, “Look, sorry to just show up like—”

  Nate hit me in the stomach with something like a fast-moving dwarf star. It hurt so bad I sat down and fell over on my side gasping, unable to breathe.

  He leaned down. “Just so you know, I appreciate what you did for Tim and me. More than you realize. But you still had sex with my fiancée.”

  “But she—”

  “Was trying to kill me,” he said, “I know. Still doesn’t make it right. Now get in your car and leave. If you wanna meet somewhere and talk or something, fine. But you’re not staying here.”

  Some guys were territorial to a fault.

  “I didn’t just have sex with her,” I said in a low voice, getting up slowly. “We did it like five times, with handcuffs, you son of a—”

  The front door opened and Tara stepped out. “Honey? Your brother’s on the phone.”

  Tim was Nate’s other adopted brother. The good one.

  Nate glanced furtively from her to me and back again, then stalked back to the house.

  “Hey, wait,” I said before he went in. “Have you spoken to the minister? Anthony?”

  “Go on in, honey,” he told her. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

  When Tara went in, I said, “Did you get the guy’s address?”

  Nate avoided my gaze. “Still working on it.”

  “How long till you get it?”

  “Don’t know.”

  He turned around and went in the house.

  With a feeling
of frustration, I got my bag from the trunk and followed him. Nate was on the phone when I came in. He turned away when he saw me.

  “You’ll love it up here,” he said, laughing. “It snows down there too. Don’t be a wimp.”

  Out of nowhere, I issued a big yawn. My ride was a night owl, and I’d been driving most of the night.

  Tara caught my eye and said, “Wanna see your room?”

  “Sure,” I said, and followed her up the stairs.

  The room she chose was the same one I’d stayed in as Scott. While they were fighting, he’d been denied the master bedroom.

  “Everything’s clean,” Tara said, smiling prettily.

  “Oh, I’m positive. Thank you. This is much better than sleeping in a car. I sure hope Nate doesn’t mind me staying.”

  Tara laughed. “He’s your friend. Of course he doesn’t mind. And if he does he’ll have me to deal with.”

  “I just hate to be trouble.”

  “No more of that,” she said. “You look tired.”

  In response, I yawned again.

  Tara giggled.

  “Go ahead and lie down,” she said. “Nate and I are going out tonight if you want to come. We both hate cooking, so we go out a lot. What do you say?”

  I thought back to that sucker punch he’d landed. I couldn’t believe he was so angry, considering Erika had tried to kill him. With that kind of jealousy, he might see my joining their dinner date as another move into his territory.

  “Love to,” I said. “And I’ll take you up on that nap, thank you so much.”

  Tara watched me with her head tilted a little to the side, lips pursed in thought. “I swear, if we hadn’t just met…”

  I smiled and waited.

  She shook her head. “You seem familiar. I’m sorry. You just met me and I’m freaking you out.”

  “Pssht,” I said. “I love being freaked out by people I just met. Best thing ever. And I know who I remind you of.”

  “Who?”

  “Shaggy, from Scooby Doo. On account of my fondness for Scooby Snacks. You do have Scooby Snacks, don’t you? If you don’t, I can leave right now.”

  I moved to the door and she grabbed my arm, laughing and holding me back.

  “You’re kind of silly,” she said. “That’s nice. I miss silly.”

  After she left, I swallowed my perpetual jealousy of Nate’s dumb life and lay down.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Achy from the drive and that punch to the gut, and thrilled as I was to see Tara well and happy, I nonetheless slept like I did it for a living. A luxury denied to me in the Great Wherever, where it’s impossible to turn off my mind.

  When I got up, I showered and shaved with a cheap razor I’d bought at a gas station, then attached three little pieces of toilet paper to the cuts on my face and waited for them to heal.

  I got up and listened at the door. Every once in a while, one of them would laugh. I cracked the door an inch and heard the TV. A sporting event. I recognized the sport from the excited commentary, and because I knew what season it was. But I’d forgotten the name.

  Tiredly I said, “That too, huh?”

  After dressing, I went downstairs and stared at the screen. Nate ignored me, absorbed in the game.

  “Who’s winning?” I said

  “Says it right there,” he said, pointing at the score. “Miami.”

  “Miami Dolphins.”

  He smirked. “There some other Dolphins?”

  I pointed at the screen. “You like this sport?”

  “Huh?”

  I pointed at the TV.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Listen, about that address you wanted—”

  Tara walked in and Nate clammed up.

  “Oh, Dan,” she said, covering her mouth. She stepped close and plucked a piece of toilet paper I’d missed from my chin.

  “That’s our Dan,” Nate said a tad loudly.

  Tara laughed. “I was thinking about Italian, but Nate always wants steak.”

  “That’s our Nate,” I said. “Personally, I love Italian. I have it on good authority they’re the most predictable people in the world, which is why the food is always so good.”

  “Hah! It’s settled then.”

  Nate glanced from Tara to me and back again. Then at me again. Then he shook his head.

  * * *

  Tara drove us in her car to a smallish restaurant called Cellini’s. There were only a few free tables when we arrived. The room was a little warm and a bit loud, with people talking over each other in full voices. The waiters and waitresses wore branded red vests with the restaurant’s name in gold letters.

  “Tara!” an older, matronly woman said when we arrived, coming around to give her a quick hug. “So lovely to see you again. And how are you, young man?” This to Nate, who cracked the first genuine smile I’d seen since meeting him.

  “I’m doing good, thanks. How about you?”

  “Can’t complain,” she said and turned to me. “I see you brought a new friend—I’m Margaret.”

  “Dan,” I said and shook her hand.

  After we were seated, I asked how they knew that woman.

  Tara laughed guiltily and said under her breath, “We only know her from here. She’s like that with everyone.”

  Sure enough, Margaret greeted her next customers like they were long lost creditors.

  “How’s your brother doing?” I said to Nate.

  His gaze flicked to me and his eyes narrowed. “Tim’s fine.”

  Tara said, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking about this thing I have to do tomorrow. Don’t mind me. You two go ahead.”

  All through the delicious dinner, Tara and I talked about little things like movies, current events, and about how she and Nate were house hunting.

  “He still wants to be a teacher,” she said at one point. “Can you believe it?”

  Nate smiled automatically when she looked at him, but he seemed to be struggling with his sunny disposition.

  “Why is that?” I said to him. “You could retire, do whatever you want.”

  “I like teaching.”

  Tara made a spiteful little sound. “Unlike Scott, Nate likes to help people. Just like he’s helping you.”

  Nate took her hand.

  “I’m sorry, Dan,” she said. “I keep trying not to think about him. All those wasted years.”

  “Scott’s your ex-husband?”

  “So you know about him,” she said with no inflection.

  “Only that there were difficulties.”

  Nate was shaking his head openly at me now, but Tara didn’t see it.

  “Difficulties,” she said. “You could say that. He’s some kind of … sexual weirdo is what he is.” She covered her mouth and looked down. “Would you give me a minute?”

  Tara stood up and left, heading deeper into the restaurant.

  “Why’d you ask about her husband?” Nate said, glaring at me.

  “Did you hire my private investigator or not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well?”

  “I called Father Hendricks when you were sleeping. He wants to meet with you first, before we tell you anything. Sorry, man, but I like him more than I like you.”

  Sighing impatiently, I said, “I know you’re not my biggest fan, but this is important. And that guy—the minister—he sticks his nose in things. I’m trying to help my family here. Did he tell you that?”

  In a low voice, Nate said, “Look, I’m grateful, okay? For all you did. But this whole thing”—he gestured between us—“this isn’t me, man. Coming back from the dead? Possessing my body, like in a movie? I’m a normal guy. I worry about normal things. And I’m sorry I hit you, okay? I just … look, when you’re around … Father Hendricks said bad things happen when you’re around. And if anything bad happens to Tara, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “So give me what I want to know and I’ll be gone.”

 
“Be patient,” he said. “He wants you to meet him tomorrow at the church. I was gonna tell you in the morning.”

  “Fine,” I said, “what about the money? Twenty thousand.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  I held his steady gaze and then nodded. “Thanks, man.”

  When Tara returned, her eyes were red.

  “I’m sorry,” she said and sat down.

  Nate took her hand and leaned in. “Why don’t I get the bill so we can go?”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I think I just need to lie down.”

  Nate went to find our waiter.

  I tried to apologize, but she stopped me.

  “Please don’t worry about it,” Tara said, and took a sip of water. “I’ll be better when I get home.”

  A minute later, Nate came back and said, “Everything’s settled.”

  The trip home was quiet and tense. Nate kept sneaking glances at Tara, and she did the same thing back when she thought he wasn’t looking. I sat and watched them both and wondered what to make of these two. In many ways they seemed perfect for each other, but I couldn’t help worrying. Maybe it was unhealthy, them getting together like this so soon after Scott went to jail. And Nate’s money complicated matters. Tara and Scott had been upside down on the house, after all, and as far as I could tell she didn’t have a job.

  Maybe I should mind my own business.

  The transition from the car to the house helped diffuse the tension. I had to watch Nate kiss Tara goodnight. She gave me a quick hug and went upstairs.

  “Women,” I said, shaking my head.

  That earned a quick smile from Nate.

  He scratched his chin. “Sorry again for hitting you. You helped me so much. And you don’t seem like a bad guy.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re actually talking. Father Hendricks told me how you, uh … possessed me.” He barked a laugh. “That’s so effed up, man. If I hadn’t experienced what I did, no way I’d believe any of it. You know this is really weird for me, don’t you?”

  “How do you think I feel?”

  In a low voice, Nate said, “Father Hendricks told me what happens to you. Said you go to some kind of nothingness.”