A distraction seemed to be needed so he rolled over, pinning her beneath him and silencing any further questions with his mouth.
Lou hummed softly to herself as she locked the door behind Armand. He hadn’t stayed for breakfast, claiming he had a distant relative who worked in construction with whom he wanted to consult so he’d be properly informed to assess the window installation later in the day. “If I have any doubts as to the quality of the work, I will ask Matthias to inspect it.”
“I’m sure Jimmy will bring in someone who knows what they are doing,” she’d told him but he’d not been swayed. Oh well, sometimes it was easier to give in than to argue.
Now, she stood drinking her morning coffee and dreamily recalling last night. It had been just as she imagined…well, except for the sneezing but that had been funny and good, too. As for waking with him beside her, there’d been a rightness to his presence, a feeling of security and contentment filling her. She could have remained snuggled to his side all day if it hadn’t been for work.
She took another sip of coffee and watched as Roxi shuffled into the kitchen, mumbling something indecipherable.
“You okay?”
“Period cramps suck.” The words were accompanied with a scowl as she reached for a glass. “It’s my day off so I’m taking pain killers and going back to bed. By the way, I borrowed your tampons last night. Mine aren’t in the bathroom.”
“Really? I saw them there the other day.”
“Well, they’re gone now.”
“That’s strange. Perhaps they got pushed to the back during the break-in yesterday.” She shrugged. “I’ll go look later.”
“Or the thief was the same creep who tried the A/C scam on me the other day. Remember how I said he had a tampon fetish? I bet he came back to steal them.” She scowled. “Those things are expensive, you know.”
She laughed. “I doubt anyone would break in to steal tampons. That’s just too weird.”
“Hey, the world is full of weird.” Roxi filled her glass with water, popped her pills and turned to go. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Oh, wait.” She set down her cup. “Jimmy will be coming by with somebody to install the new window and Armand will be back to supervise. I gave him a key.”
“So it’s going to be a three-ring circus around here today? Damn.”
“Sorry.”
Roxi shook her head. “Not your fault. I’ll head over to my mother’s for the day then.”
“I thought you just had a big argument with her?”
“I did, but she has great herbal remedies for cramps and stuff like that.”
“Okay, as long as you have a place to go.” Lou glanced at her watch. “I’d better finish getting ready or I’ll be late.”
She completed her morning routine which was actually out of routine due to Armand’s presence earlier. By the time she was ready, Roxi was leaving the apartment as well.
“Here.” Roxi tossed her a small item and she caught it.
“What’s this?” She exited the apartment and Roxi followed, locking the door.
“Your flash drive thingy.”
She looked at the small device. “Flash drive? I call these things memory sticks.”
“Really? Well, let’s combine the two and call it a memory thingy.”
“Fine by me, but it’s still not mine.”
“It was in your box of tampons so it must be yours. Cool hiding place, by the way.”
“Well, it would be a pretty cool hiding place if I’d put it there, which I didn’t.”
“Huh. I wonder how it got there then.” Roxi frowned as they walked down the stairs together.
She shrugged and turned the device over in her hand. There was nothing identifying about it.
“Maybe somebody at the factory dropped it in the box when the tampons were being manufactured.”
“That’s pretty far-fetched.”
“No, it isn’t. I’ve read about that kind of thing happening before.” Roxi pressed her point. “Bored factory workers leave a message in a product asking whoever finds it to write back. Sometimes they even leave ‘help’ messages saying they’re trapped in some kind of slave labor situation.”
She nodded. “I guess I do remember hearing about that, but this isn’t a message.”
“It could be, a high-tech variety.”
They’d reached the bottom of the stairs so she shoved the device in her pocket. “Well, we can talk about it later. I hope you have a good visit with your mother and not too many arguments.”
“It’ll be okay. Once I tell her I don’t feel well, she’ll go into full mother hen mode.” Roxi cracked her gum, gave her a mock salute and they parted ways.
Work was wonderfully uneventful, a fact she greatly appreciated as her activities the previous night had left her short on sleep. Not that she minded. She’d gladly give up several nights of sleep if they were all the result of Armand’s skilled attentions.
“Quit standing around mooning about your boyfriend. We’ve got customers to serve.” Gin’s sharp tones had Lou giving a start.
“Sorry.” Realizing the pot of coffee she’d been brewing was ready, she reached for some mugs.
“You and your new boyfriend have plans for the weekend?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.” She didn’t bother to correct the assumption that Armand was her boyfriend, maybe because she wasn’t exactly sure if he was or wasn’t. “We’ll probably just hang around the apartment, I suppose.”
“You could head to the beach. The weather’s been so hot it would be nice to cool off there.” Kathy squeezed into the small area behind the lunch counter and placed her order slip where Jeff could see it. “Here you go, Jeff. Two specials, no tomato on one of them.”
Jeff looked up from the meal he was plating and glanced at the order. “Got it, Kathy. Hey Lou, there’s an art show tomorrow at the park. It’s free.”
“If it’s free, it’s probably crappy artwork.” Gin began to reach for the meal Jeff was now sliding across the serving counter.
Kathy rolled her eyes.
“Oh, while you’re all here,” Lou reached into her pocket and pulled out the memory stick. “Do any of you own this? I found it in with my stuff and wondered if you’d dropped it.”
All three glanced at the item in her palm and shook their heads.
“Nope.”
“Not mine.”
“Never seen it before.”
“Oh. Okay.” She dropped it back in her pocket. It had been a long-shot, but she figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.
“Quit talking and get moving. I’m not picking up your slack.” Gin shut the door on the small fridge that housed the cream and milk.
Lou rolled her eyes at the other woman’s attitude, placed the coffee cups she’d been filling on a tray and went to take care of her customers. As she worked, she speculated about Jeff’s suggestion. An art show might be fun, and she knew Armand liked art even if his paintings weren’t very good.
She remembered once, after a brawl in the bar, he’d been staring morosely at the broken frame of one of his pictures debating if he should hang it up again or not…
~~~
“The customers don’t appreciate my work.” Armand picked up the broken frame and checked the painting it held for signs of damage.
“Well…” She wasn’t sure what to say, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“The Broken Antler is my home. I should decorate it as I wish, correct?”
She’d never thought of it that way and, after a moment’s consideration, gave a nod. “You know what? You’re right. You own the place so you do what you want. It’s not as if you’re asking people to buy the paintings. It’s sort of like singing in the shower. Unless you’re forcing people to stand in the bathroom and listen, it isn’t anyone’s business. You can do something just for the joy of it, even if you suck at it.”
He looked at her for a minute and then burst out laughing. �
�You’re good for my ego, Lucy.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “I try to be.”
~~~
The next day, the painting had once again graced the wall of the bar so he must have taken her advice. She smiled at the memory and made a mental note to try and take Armand to the art show. There was never anything remotely like that in Stump River.
When her shift was over—later than usual due to an extended chat with one of the customers—she began to take her tips from her pocket as she always did only to pause when the rear door jerked open and Jeff the chef stomped in.
“What’s wrong, Jeff?”
“I…” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, his face flushed. “Someone stole my car! I was heading home, started to walk towards my usual parking place and...it wasn’t there.”
“Oh no! Are you sure that’s where you parked it?”
“Yeah. I’m sure. I always park there.”
“Was it locked?”
“Yeah. Or at least I’m pretty sure it was. It’s one of those things you do automatically, right?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I forgot. Or maybe they smashed the window. It was just a beat up old junker; you’d think they’d have better taste in cars to steal.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nah. Thanks anyway. I’ll call the police, not that it will likely do any good. My car’s probably being stripped for parts as we speak.”
Megan, one of the servers who worked the afternoon shift, walked in. “What’s up? You two are usually gone by now.”
She explained, and Megan began making appropriate noises about Jeff’s situation. She left the two of them talking and headed outside. What was the city coming to? Jeff’s car, her apartment, the mugging and…there went the bus.
Her shoulders slumped as she watched it disappear around the corner. Did she want to wait for the next one or start walking? It wasn’t too hot… Hitching her purse strap on her shoulder, she set off keeping herself occupied by wondering if the new window was installed and if Armand would be waiting for her.
Would he want to spend the night again? Perhaps she’d text Roxi and strongly suggest some family time which would then leave the apartment free for her and Armand. She grinned at the idea and began to play out various tantalizing scenarios in her mind. Since most of them involved her bed, she made a mental note to buy some new unscented laundry products if it looked like he’d be staying around for a while.
She was almost home, having just turned down a side street, when she caught a glimpse of Armand’s familiar figure.
“Armand, wait up!” She called out his name and quickened her pace, intent on catching up with him.
He turned and waved, the white of his smile showing against his dark stubble. Rather than waiting for her, he began to retrace his steps.
Her heart gave a little skip, a bubble of happiness filling her. Gosh, she’d missed this; bumping into him while walking down the street, seeing him smile, just having him there as part of her daily life.
They were only yards apart when the sound of screeching tires and blaring horns broke into her thoughts. A car careened around the corner at a ridiculous speed, fish-tailing to the left and then the right, completely out of control. Horns blared, drivers slammed on their brakes. In shock, she watched as the car hit the garbage cans lining the other side of the street sending the containers catapulting into the air before it veered back onto the road and then…it was heading straight towards Armand!
Every scent, sight and sound registered with acute clarity, like a movie advancing one frame at a time.
She felt her eyes widen, tasted the acridness of fear, felt the heat of the sun reflected up at her off the pavement where she stood frozen. The roar of the engine seemed to swirl around her mixing with the screams of on-lookers and her own sharp inhalation.
Her gaze took in the driver’s hands clenched on the steering wheel, noticed the visor was covering the person’s face.
“Armand!” She screamed his name, watched as he turned to look behind him.
Move. We have to move! The voice in her head prodded.
She started to run, knowing she’d never reach him in time but still having to try. Her heart was pounding, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as her feet slapped against the ground. At any moment she expected to see some 4,000 pounds of metal slamming into him, crushing the life force from his body and leaving his mangled remains behind.
Please! Oh please! Random bits of long forgotten prayers tumbled through her mind.
Armand pivoted on the ball of his foot, his muscles bunching, his face contorting into a wild snarl and then the car struck him, launching him into the air.
In horror, she saw him hit the ground, momentum sending him tumbling and turning along the sidewalk until he slammed into the wall of a building.
She rushed to his side, dropped to her knees, her hands hovering over him. Was he dead?
“Armand?” Her throat was so tight she could barely get the word out. Gently she touched him, feeling weak with relief when she heard him take a ragged breath.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Are you okay?”
“Me? I’m not the one that was just hit by a car. I—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish speaking, a dozen voices interrupting as a crowd gathered around them.
Armand sat up, brushing away those that reached out to help him. “A licence plate? Did anyone get the number?” He growled the words.
“Covered in mud. Couldn’t read it,” someone answered.
“Probably high on drugs,” another replied.
“I’ve already called the cops.” A young woman had her cell phone out. “I have a picture of the car but the driver’s too blurry to see.” She peered at the screen and shook her head.
Armand clambered to his feet and Lou did the same.
“Good work, young fellow.” An elderly man patted Armand’s arm. “The way you rolled when you were hit, well, I haven’t seen anyone perform that kind of a stunt since I saw a tumbling act at the circus as a young boy.”
“Martial arts,” Armand murmured as he surveyed the scene before turning towards her.
Lou looked at him in surprise. “I never realized you’d taken martial arts.”
“There are a great many things you don’t know about me.” He brushed some loose hair back from her face, his fingers trailing over her scar before sliding to her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“You already asked me that.”
“And you didn’t answer.”
“I’m fine, just a bit shook up.” Her gaze swept over him, searching for signs of blood or bruising. “You’re the one we need to be concerned about.”
“I’m fine. We need to get out of here, though.” He looked about and tightened his lips. With the crowd around them, there was no way they could slip away before the police arrived.
She hoped they’d not be questioned too extensively. While Ryne had assured her the identity he’d created for her was rock-solid, she didn’t want to test the claim.
A siren announced the arrival of the police and was soon followed by the attending officers taking statements, searching the area for evidence and watching the cell phone footage. Of course, they said they’d investigate but she was certain from their expression they had little hope of catching the driver.
“The car was probably stolen. We’ll find it torched in a vacant lot or at the bottom of the river,” one officer said.
Stolen? Was it too much of a coincidence that Armand was almost run down by a stolen car on the very day Jeff’s was taken? She scrunched her brow trying to think if she’d ever seen Jeff’s car. No, she didn’t think she had. And really, there was no connection between Armand and Jeff except they both knew her. And yet…before she could finish her thought, the officer was speaking again.
He flicked a look from Armand to her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re refusing medical attention?”
&
nbsp; “We’re both uninjured.” Armand gave an emphatic nod.
“Do you need a ride home? Can I call someone for you?”
“No, it’s just a couple of blocks to my apartment.” She pointed towards her building. “The walk will help us calm down.”
Armand wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for your concern. We’ll be fine.”
The officer tapped his pen on his notepad and then flipped it shut. “All right then. We’ll be in touch.”
Thankfully, most of the crowd had dispersed. Those who remained were more interested in discussing the event among themselves which meant she and Armand were able to slip away unnoticed.
As they walked towards her place, she studied him out of the corner of her eye, watching for a limp or a wince of pain. No one survived being hit by a car without some kind of repercussion, right?
“Are you sure you’re okay? I know you told the police officer you were, but you must be covered in bruises.”
“It’s all in how you roll.”
She gave him a doubting look. “I’m still going to check you over when we get home.”
“That could be fun.” He gave her a wink.
She chuckled as he’d intended but quickly sobered. There was really nothing to laugh about. He could have been seriously injured, even killed. She shivered at the thought.
Beside her, Armand was scowling. “A mugging, a break-in, now a hit and run. Big cities can be dangerous; this, however isn’t normal.”
“A string of bad luck?”
“Do you really believe that?”
“No.” She didn’t believe it at all. Something was going on, but what?
Chapter 12
Roxi had returned home after spending the morning with her mother. She’d planned to stay the day, only an argument had begun to brew over the pot of herbal tea they’d been drinking.
~~~
“You know, you could become an herbalist,” her mother suggested as she put away the ingredients that had gone into the soothing drink. “A lot of what humans call ‘witchcraft’ is just basic knowledge of plants and their medicinal properties.”
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