Bad Girls Don't

by Linz, Cathie

  “I don’t appreciate your choice of language,” Milton primly informed him.

  “Too bad. I don’t appreciate vandalism and breaking and entering.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Someone broke into the theater last night and defaced the lobby with paint.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Milton replied immediately, beads of sweat forming along his upper lip. “I was here last night. Working.”

  “Without any witnesses.”

  “I got home before one a.m. My wife can vouch for that.”

  “Still doesn’t cover the hours before that.”

  “What time was the theater broken into?” Milton asked.

  “We don’t know.”

  Milton’s earlier bravado returned. “Then it could have happened after one a.m., when I was home.”

  “It could. We’re dusting for fingerprints now and following a few leads.”

  “You won’t find my fingerprints there,” Milton stated confidently.

  “Maybe not. But we might find that whoever did break in was actually doing the dirty work for someone else. Someone who was working late or home in bed.”

  “Are you accusing me?”

  “No. I was just stating a few possibilities.”

  “If you’re exploring possibilities, you should look into Wally Purdy’s past. You know, over at the thrift shop. He was a drunk, you know. Maybe he fell off the wagon and went a little crazy last night.”

  “Why should Wally want to vandalize the theater?”

  “How should I know? Finding that out is your job, not mine.”

  “Yes, it is. And I will find out, Milton.” Nathan gave him the steely glare honed and perfected during his years in the Marine Corps. “That’s as certain as death and taxes.”

  Skye faced the football team the next day with eyes dry and scratchy from lack of sleep. She hadn’t been able to rest much last night, fearing a repeat incident of vandalism and determined to stop it before it happened.

  Tyler had called in a security company, which had installed a new system, along with motion-sensor lights near the rear exits. The lights had gone on twice—a prowling alley cat was the cause the first time, a garbage-looting raccoon the second.

  Skye had spent the night sitting in a chair in her bedroom facing the window above the alley, ready to protect what was hers. Not the most restful of occupations.

  She was so not ready for a hoard of sports-mad teenagers this morning.

  “Are you coming to the game tomorrow night?” Brock the quarterback asked Skye. “You are, right? You’re like our good-luck mascot.”

  Skye didn’t really appreciate the comparison. She’d seen the team mascot, and the foam Trojan was not a pretty picture.

  “We’ve been winning,” Brock reminded her. “Coach says there’s nothing like winning, and he’s right. Coach is always right.”

  “Have you all been continuing with your yoga every day?” Skye asked.

  “Yes!” they shouted in unison.

  Skye winced. She was getting a serious headache. She turned on the Dave Matthews band and got started.

  The familiar movements relaxed her, as they are intended to. As she went through the various poses, a degree of serenity slowly returned.

  Her inner balance restored, Skye gathered her yoga mat after class and headed for the nearest exit. She was surprised to run into Algee in the locker-lined hallway. “What are you doing here?”

  “Speaking to classes about a new project we’ve got going on.”

  “We?”

  Algee nodded. “I saw what a difference you made with your yoga lessons and thought maybe there was more I could do to get involved. I read about this project that encourages kids to create their own comic books as an after-school program. I went to their website and got more information. Learned all the academic buzzwords, like how creating comic books fosters imagination, improves language skills, and builds vocabulary. They’ve cut the funding for art classes here in the Rock Creek school district, which sucks big-time, so this is a way for kids to express themselves artistically. Mostly younger kids, like in middle school, but I thought some ninth-graders might be interested too.”

  “It’s a great idea, Algee! Hey, are you blushing?”

  “Are you kidding?” he scoffed. “Black dudes don’t blush.”

  “Yeah, right. Especially big, burly, ultratough black guys.”

  “Yeah, especially them.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Like you don’t already have your plate full? I heard about the vandalism at the theater. And that Tyler got a new security system installed for you yesterday, right after that last incident.”

  “Nathan wanted me to make a list of my enemies. Can you imagine?”

  “Was it a long list?” Algee asked, utterly serious.

  “I didn’t make a list.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s bad karma.”

  “So is getting vandalized.”

  “Yeah, so Nathan has told me.”

  “But you aren’t listening to him.”

  “He’s very bossy, have you noticed that?”

  “So are you.”

  “Me?” She socked Algee’s arm, wincing as she hit solid muscle. “I am not. I just have strong opinions about things, and I’m always right.”

  “Oh, well, that’s different.”

  “Damn right. You know, once your comic-book project gets off the ground, we could do a display of some of your students’ work in the theater lobby once we open. And maybe do a Spiderman/Batman movie marathon to highlight it or something.”

  “As long as it included Batman Begins.”

  “It would have to, or Sue Ellen and Lulu would run me over with the Batmobile.”

  “That is some kind of pink vehicle that Sue Ellen drives.”

  “Yes, well, Sue Ellen likes to make a splash wherever she goes.”

  “So do you. Listen.” Algee’s expression turned serious. “Nathan is a good guy. He already came to me about an at-risk kid named Jay that he thought would be a good candidate for the comic-book project. The guy knows everything that goes on in this town.”

  “Big Brother is watching, huh?”

  “I don’t think he sees himself as your big brother.”

  “No?”

  “Not in this lifetime,” Algee said. “You’re not blind, girl. I’m not telling you anything new here.”

  “Nathan does everything by the book. He follows the rules. I break them.”

  “So?”

  “So, that doesn’t make for a good combination. Besides, you’re hardly in a position to be giving me advice on my love life. You are constantly going out with someone new.”

  Algee grinned. “I like to spread the joy around.”

  “You’re just as leery of settling down as I am.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “I’m glad to hear you admit it.”

  “I’ve been meaning to thank you for recommending Lulu as an employee at Cosmic Comics Two. She’s working out just fine.”

  “Another nonconformist.”

  “Who knows her graphic novels. She’s a walking encyclopedia. I thought I knew a lot, but she blows me away.”

  “She has a younger brain.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. Listen, I’ve got to go. But you be careful. And do what Nathan tells you.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Algee shook his head. “This sabotage stuff is nothing to joke about. It’s some serious shit.”

  It got even more serious in the middle of the night, when someone tried to set fire to the Tivoli Theater.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Skye stood in front of the theater in the eerie predawn light, wearing low-cut jeans and a cropped tank top stating “When I Can’t Sleep, I Count the Buckles on My Straight-jacket.” The fire department had put out the flames, which had actually been confined to a pair of Dumpsters in the al
ley behind the theater.

  The Tivoli was saved. For now . . .

  Skye wrapped her arms around her bare midriff to ward off the chill.

  “All right.” Nathan’s voice was hard when he spoke to her, matching his expression. “This does it. End of discussion. You and your daughter aren’t safe staying upstairs in that apartment.”

  “I agree,” Skye said. “Angel has already taken Toni to her place.”

  “Great. So you’re moving to Serenity Falls temporarily.”

  “Like I said, Angel has taken Toni. But I’m staying.”

  “Don’t you realize how dangerous this situation is?”

  “And don’t you realize how important this place is to me? What if you never find out who is behind all this? What am I supposed to do then, huh? Wait around indefinitely? Give up? No way!” she said fiercely. “I’m not doing that. End of discussion, to use your words.”

  The fire chief came up to them. “It was definitely arson,” he said. “Good thing we caught it early, before much damage was done. It could have been worse.”

  Nathan and the chief walked away from Skye, talking quietly. There didn’t seem much point in going back to sleep, so she grabbed her purse and car keys from upstairs and headed out of town to visit the llamas. Not usually her thing, but she felt the need to take a break from everything for an hour or two. Toni was safe with Angel. But Skye’s state of mind was less secure, and it was too early to talk to Owen or Algee or Sue Ellen or Lulu. They were all bound to be still asleep. But the llamas would be awake.

  By the time Skye reached the Amish farm where the llamas were being boarded, the sun was up, and so was the Miller family. In deference to them, she’d pulled on a denim shirt that covered her midriff, navel ring and all.

  She waved to Mr. Miller as he headed into the milking barn, then made her way to the pens where the llamas were kept. “So, Lucy, how’s the pregnancy going? I hear llamas take a year to have a baby. That sucks, huh? Bet you’re surprised to see me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for your opinion on stuff the way Angel does.”

  Lucy stared at her with those big dark eyes surrounded by long feathery eyelashes.

  “I needed to come out here to breathe. The smell of manure may make you gag, but it really clears the mind.”

  Ricky, the male llama in the pen next door, shuffled forward to greet her. “I haven’t forgotten you. I brought you both some treats.” As she shared a handful of her trail mix with the two animals, Skye tried to think who would want her out of town so much that they were willing to burn down the theater to accomplish it. Sure, in the past her auric field had interacted strongly with others’, sometimes resulting in sparks . . . but never in arson.

  Ricky gave her an indignant, sideways look, obviously peeved that she wasn’t paying enough attention to him.

  “You’re such a guy,” she said.

  Which, of course, got her train of thought steaming nonstop for the Nathan-station.

  “Can you believe that he actually ordered me out of my own building? Never mind. Forget it. I promised not to talk to you about my problems. I just needed a break, that’s all. I’m better now, better able to meet obstacles, setbacks, and challenges. Which is a good thing, because I have a feeling there are going to be plenty of all three waiting for me back in Rock Falls.”

  On her way back into town an hour later, Skye ran into Nancy Crumpler at the Gas4Less, where the older woman was filling a Big Gulp-size cup with coffee. “I heard about the fire. Are you okay?”

  Skye nodded.

  “Do you have a minute?” Nancy asked. “I need to talk to you. Why don’t you come with me to the store? I don’t get any customers this early in the morning.”

  Only when Skye was seated in the chair behind the sales counter did Nancy stop drinking her coffee and begin to speak. “I thought I should tell you that some of the other business owners in town are acting like asses, trying to protect their own behinds by saying the theater is a threat to them.”

  “What?”

  “Someone tried to burn the building down, right?”

  “The fire wasn’t that big.”

  “Because it was caught early. But Milton is trying to fan the flames by making dire predictions about what could have happened.”

  Skye suspected Milton was doing more than just talking.

  “He’s saying the entire block could have gone up in flames,” Nancy continued. “That’s got folks nervous. I certainly did what I could first thing to quell such stupid speculation. It’s just that some people are a little edgy.”

  “Join the club,” Skye muttered.

  “I heard you refused to move out.”

  “You heard right.” Skye didn’t even bother asking how Nancy had heard. She’d learned that small towns had their own rapid communications systems that rivaled anything the Internet could come up with.

  “Good for you. Stick to your guns. It’s tough being strong sometimes. Believe me, I know. When I said I wanted to move to Las Vegas to become a showgirl, I thought my parents would have a fit. They wanted me to settle down and get married. Or join the convent like my sister.”

  “As a kid, it must have been tough having a nun for a sister.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “How did you deal with it? Did the two of you get along?”

  “Fought like cats and dogs for decades,” Nancy cheerfully confessed. “We still do, occasionally. You know what changed things for me? Finally realizing she needs me as much as I need her.”

  “Why? Because your being bad makes her look good?”

  “Because your relationship with your sibling is the longest relationship you’ll have in your life.”

  “There’s a depressing thought.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. The bottom line for me was, if I couldn’t get things right with my sister, how could I get my other relationships right? Think about it, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “And I’m saying that I have enough problems at the moment without adding my oh-so-perfect sister to the mix,” Skye said. She stood and gave Nancy a hug. “Thanks for the advice, though, even if I don’t take it.”

  That evening, Skye decided it was time to cleanse her living environment of the negative energy that had been accumulating recently. She’d try to do the theater later. She’d already completed a thorough cleaning and organizing of her apartment. The space-clearing ritual would help her create a healthy flow of energy, or chi, within her space.

  She’d placed clean-burning, nonparaffin candles in key locations around the living room, along with rock sea salt, which attracted stagnant energy, or sha chi. She’d sprinkled a line of the salt across the front threshold, as well as a small amount in various critical areas of the apartment.

  The next step was clapping, which stirred up stale energy. Starting at the main entrance, she began clapping with her arms outstretched. She moved slowly around the perimeter of the room. She even clapped inside the coat closet by the front door, in case any stale energy was hiding out in there.

  While carefully lighting a juniper wand, she kept her mind focused on her intention to clear and energize her space. Again moving slowly, she made her way around the room, saturating the atmosphere with the cleansing smoke, making sure to include areas under the Formica table in the dining area.

  Juniper was well known as a purifying herb . . .

  The high-pitched wail of the smoke detector in the living room ceiling shattered her peaceful meditation. It was immediately followed by the sound of pounding on her front door and Nathan yelling, “Open up!”

  Okay, not exactly the way she’d planned things.

  Skye almost tripped over a candle on her way to open the door. She quickly assured Nathan everything was fine before heading for the smoke detector. It was about to make her go deaf.

  Nathan went about the room extinguishing the candles. “What’s going on in here? Are you trying to set the place on fire again?”

  She stood on a ch
air and smacked the smoke detector button with a broom handle. The detector fell to the floor with a final squeal before lying there in pieces, as if she’d murdered it. “I was clearing my space of negative energy.”

  “By trying to burn it down?”

  “I was practicing feng shui.”

  “With the smoke detector?”

  “No. The smoke detector suffered collateral damage.”

  “Why aren’t you at the football game?”

  “The game . . . oh, shit!” Since Skye didn’t wear a watch, she jumped off the chair, grabbed Nathan’s arm, and looked at his watch. “It’ll be almost over by now. I told the team I’d be there.”

  “Relax. I’m sure they’ll understand, given the circumstances, that you weren’t able to make it tonight.”

  Skye closed her eyes.

  “You’re not going to cry, are you?” Nathan sounded a tad desperate.

  “Shhh. I’m channeling positive energy their way.” She held out her hand in the universal command for silence. “Okay.” She opened her eyes and looked around. “I still need to ring the tinghsa bells to fully saturate this space.”

  Nathan made a sweeping gesture with his arm in an invitation for her to continue. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  For the first time, she noticed the sleeping bag and backpack he’d dumped by the front door. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

  “Moving in with you. It’s the only way I can protect you.”

  Who was going to protect her from him? From falling for him? From connecting with him at a deeper level than she ever thought possible? That was the real danger here. Not the fire downstairs, but the fire burning deep in her heart. For him.

  Skye could tell by the mulish look on Nathan’s face that he expected her to fight him on this.

  She hated being predictable.

  So she said, “You don’t leave the toilet seat or lid up, do you?”

  He blinked.

  “Because if you do, the deal is off.”

  He blinked again. Funny, she’d never noticed his thick, dark eyelashes before. She liked them. A lot.