Hiss and Make Up

by Leigh Landry

  That dog had nearly ripped off its chain trying to get at Marc, but it couldn’t give them a warning that someone was there?

  A second later, keys jingled outside.

  19

  He clicked the mail closed and grabbed Sierra by the wrist, dragging her to the floor. They scooted under Adrien’s twin bed and shimmied close together, while someone entered the mobile home humming.

  Definitely female. Definitely not Adrien.

  Sierra sniffled from the dusty and moldy carpet inches below her face. Her eyes closed and Marc willed her to hold it together. No sneezing. His heart raced—a product of both the situational adrenaline and his proximity to Sierra.

  Marc watched the doorway, straining to hear anything that might clue him in to who this could be. The sound was too muffled from their location to identify them. If he even knew this person at all.

  “Adrien? You here?” A pause, then, “Did something happen to your car?”

  The humming trailed off, and burgundy, high-heeled shoes thumped over the kitchen linoleum. The fridge door opened and closed, then more humming.

  The woman walked down the hall, straight towards them, and entered the bedroom. He squeezed Sierra’s hand. While Marc held his breath the stranger walked to the computer and began clicking and typing. He scooted commando-style towards the edge of the bed for a better look at their mystery woman, but he loosened more dust and had to stop to fight off a sneezing attack of his own.

  The woman switched off the bedroom light and exited the room. A moment later, the front door opened and shut and the lock clicked into place.

  Sierra held up a hand, urging him to wait. A few moments later, Marc heard a car engine.

  They nodded in agreement, then crawled out from under the bed and rushed to the window. He hoped to catch the license plate, but when they peeked through the blinds they found that the car had already turned onto the winding road that ran along the bayou. Trees lined the ditch, so all Marc could see was that it was a dark-colored car.

  Sierra turned away from the window. “Any idea who that was?”

  “Chloe?”

  “Nope. Wrong shoes.”

  Marc sat at the computer again. “You have a mental catalog of Chloe’s shoe inventory?”

  “If it was Chloe, those would be bright, flirty heels. Those were serious shoes.”

  “Serious shoes? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “Hey, it’s not me.” She pointed down at her hiking boots. “Heels aren’t part of my work wardrobe, but shoe facts are shoe facts. I still know the difference between Chloe shoes and those shoes.”

  “We’ll say you’re the expert on this topic.”

  “So whose legs belonged to those shoes? Adrien’s mom? She seemed a bit…unhinged.” Her mouth curled up at the mention of the woman.

  Marc shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. You saw her at the fire. She was as shocked as we were.”

  “Maybe she’s got a side career in community theater.”

  “No way.” Marc laughed. “Besides. She’s too busy moving to bother with us even if she did have a reason. Which makes zero sense.”

  Sierra sighed. “Fine. Can we just finish up and get out of here already?”

  “Get out of here?” Marc smiled, enjoying the fact that Sierra was actually uncomfortable for once. “Where’s your sense of adventure? If I recall, you were the first one here.”

  “Yeah, and we’ve been here way too long already. I like adventure, but jail time isn’t on my bucket list. Can we move this along already? Please?”

  “Fine. Party pooper.” He looked at the screen. “How can I find what that woman was doing here?”

  “I have no idea. Is there a recent something-or-other place?”

  Marc opened the file cabinet icon, but the most recent document opened was two days ago. And it looked like code files. He went back to the mail program and opened the sent mail. While he was there, he wanted to confirm that his threatening email was actually sent from Adrien. He still couldn’t believe it, but seeing it here on the guy’s computer was helping it sink in.

  The first item had been sent within the last five minutes. Figuring that must have been what their mystery woman came in for, Marc opened it. The subject line was blank, and the message was two short sentences.

  I warned you.

  And you should have kept that freaky little tramp from snooping around too.

  Nothing else.

  Sent to Marc’s work address.

  “Did I read that right? Is she talking about me?”

  “I think so.” Marc pulled out his phone and opened his mail app.

  "I'm not freaky. Am I freaky?"

  "I can't comment on that yet."

  Sierra whacked him on the side of the arm. "I'm serious. How'd I get in this?"

  "Haven’t I been trying and failing to keep you out of this all weekend?”

  "Fine. But I’m still not okay with freaky. Or tramp," she said. "Wait, ‘warned you?’ Did that lady just stake her claim on the fire?"

  "Looks like it." He held his phone to show her the matching email.

  “Sheesh. That’s creepy.”

  Marc scrolled a little farther down the list of sent emails on Adrien’s computer and found the older email. It looked like it was sent from another account, not Adrien’s regular email account that he used for work. That explained why Marc didn’t recognize the address. But maybe it wasn’t Adrien who sent it after all. Or this mystery lady was an accomplice.

  “Does Adrien have a girlfriend?”

  “I have no idea. We aren’t exactly close.”

  “Well, she doesn’t live here if that’s who she is.” Sierra dug through his open closet. “Not one piece of women’s clothing. Hey, if Adrien has a girlfriend, that means he could be keeping the snakes at her place. Or maybe it’s some weird business partnership. Or a cousin. Do Adrien and Chloe have any cousins in town?”

  “I don’t know.” Marc stared at the screen, unsure what to do next. He’d found his proof about the email, but now they had even more questions.

  “Satisfied?” Sierra asked, leaning over his shoulder again.

  “Not at all.” Marc shut down the computer, not wanting to stick around any longer and risk getting caught. They’d pushed their luck enough for one afternoon. “But let’s get the hell out of here anyway.”

  Sierra nodded.

  He followed her out, locking the door behind them. As soon as he hit the first step, the dog came charging out of his house again and barked like he wanted to eat both their faces off. It couldn’t get past the length of heavy chain around his neck, so Marc safely headed toward his car.

  When he opened the door, he realized Sierra was nowhere around him, and the barking had stopped.

  Marc spun around and found her inching toward the dog, while the dog lowered its head and tail.

  “Sierra,” he hissed.

  She ignored him and continued toward the dog.

  He remembered watching her do this same thing with countless strays when they were kids. But this wasn’t some hungry, frightened stray, and Sierra didn’t have beef jerky to feed it.

  If this dog attacked and they needed an ambulance, they’d get police and questions and trespassing charges along with her injuries. But the thought of a single scratch on her bothered him more than any potential arrest.

  “Dang it, Sierra. We have to go!” he whisper-shouted at her, knowing his pleas were pointless.

  Sierra spoke sweetly as she approached, and the dog wagged his tail at the sound of her voice. He was dark brown, thick, and low to the ground. Some kind of pit bull mix, Marc guessed. Sierra held out the back of her hand, and after a quick sniff, he licked it.

  Marc shook his head. He shouldn’t have doubted her. Not on this.

  She knelt in the mud, rubbing the dog’s happy face and scratching his ears, but Marc knew she wasn’t just making a new friend. She was checking him for signs of injury and neglect.

  Ma
rc tried to approach them, but the dog let out a low growl when Marc took more than a couple steps. “You cannot take this dog.”

  “He shouldn’t be chained up like this.”

  “It’s not illegal,” Marc said. “How’s his skin?”

  “A few flea bites, but not too bad.”

  “No sores from being in the mud?”

  “No. It’s dry in his house.”

  “Good. Is the chain too tight?”

  “No. And it isn’t irritating his skin.”

  “Water? Food?”

  “Full water bowl, and he’s well-fed.”

  “Good,” Marc said. He waited for a few moments, but when she didn’t stand, he said, “Sierra…”

  “I know, I know.”

  “You legally cannot take this dog.”

  Her back raised and lowered with a huge sigh. She pet the dog a bit more, then let him lick her face as she said goodbye.

  She walked back toward Marc, wiping at her eyes, but stopped and laughed when she saw his rental car. “This is where you parked?” She shook her head. “You really are bad at this.”

  He was glad his ineptitude was distracting her from leaving the dog behind. Even if only for a moment.

  “Yeah, well, where did you park?”

  She pointed at her Forerunner in the abandoned lot next door, where he’d missed seeing it on the way in.

  “You know,” he said, “your skills are pretty scary sometimes.”

  “Which is why you should keep me on your good side.”

  Her eyes flickered with mischief, and he fought the urge to grab her face and kiss her right then and there.

  “Point taken,” he said. “Wanna come back to my house so I can work on that?”

  If she followed him home, he could beg her to forgive him for being an idiot that morning.

  Then, he had plans to keep her on whatever side she wanted to be on. Not to keep her safe, but to have her there. For as long as she’d have him.

  Sierra agreed to follow Marc back to his house for two reasons. One, his house was less than five miles from Adrien’s place. And two, she wanted to check on the dog.

  There was probably a third reason, but she wasn’t letting herself think about that, so she focused on convenience and the furball.

  After parking at the end of the driveway behind Marc’s rental car, Sierra walked straight to the back yard. She was glad to see that furry brown face greet her. She knew Marc wouldn’t call animal control or leave the gate open, but in the back of her mind, she feared losing the dog along with Marc.

  But the dog was still there with his slobbery, smiling face full of teeth.

  She bent at the gate to scratch the side of his head and ears. “Hey, dude. Missed me? Is this guy taking good care of you?”

  Marc reached a hand over the fence. His face lit up a little when the dog jumped to lick him.

  “I can bathe him while I’m here.” It was the least she could do. Plus, if she washed him, she could sneak him in the house for some snuggles.

  “That would be good. Poor guy’s been scratching a lot.”

  “I’ll bring him some flea drops tomorrow. And I’ll make some calls about finding a foster home.”

  She could have sworn a slight grimace had flashed across his face when she’d said that. But when she looked again, it was gone.

  “No rush,” he said. “He’s not any trouble out here. And he does make a nice alarm system.”

  “A cheap alarm system.”

  “Vet bills aren’t cheap.”

  She followed him in the house, where he told her all about his lunch with Freddy and some bouncer named Johnny. Apparently, his brother-in-law was still a less-than-stellar husband, but he was cleared on the suspicious stuff happening lately.

  “So wait, you thought he was some kind of bookie and you invited him to lunch?”

  He handed her a can of orange soda, her favorite. She grabbed it without thinking at first, the gesture and response comfortably familiar. Then she froze and stared at the can as her stomach flipped.

  Had he remembered that it was her favorite, or had he grabbed the first thing he found in the fridge?

  He hadn’t even asked if she’d wanted one. He’d just assumed that she did.

  “I had Freddy with me. And we were in public.”

  She studied his dark, tired eyes. They hid a playful excitement. His story emphasized how he had been careful, but she knew him better than that. Someone else might have been fooled, but not her. This man hiding a grin through his two-day-old stubble had tracked down a suspected bookie and had broken into a building. And he'd obviously gotten a little thrill from both.

  “It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore,” she teased.

  Marc frowned. “That’s because you still think I’m thirteen.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Or maybe it was. Maybe she still expected him to be the same kid she knew so long ago.

  Whoever he was, Sierra couldn’t deny that she wanted more than an orange soda from him. But what else came with that? Even if she ignored the check, even if she swallowed her fear and jumped on this second chance, who were they kidding?

  Marc lived in his childhood home, next door to his sister and her gaggle of kids. How long would it take him to realize that he wanted all that too? How long before he accepted that Sierra didn’t fit in that picture? Because as much as she loved Luna and teaching kids at the Nature Station, she had no desire for kids of her own.

  She knew her brain was jumping ahead, but it had to with Marc. Sierra didn’t want to start anything with him if she would bail on the ending. He deserved better than that.

  When Marc nodded at the sliding door, she followed him outside and sat beside him on the cypress porch swing. The dog hopped between them. For a moment it looked like Marc would shoo it away, but he changed his mind and scratched its ears, while the dog curled up beside him.

  They sipped their canned drinks, swinging in silence and staring at the dark waters of the Bayou Teche in the distance. Sierra pulled her feet up while Marc pushed gently like they’d done so many times in another lifetime. So much had changed since those days. She’d changed, but she was starting to realize that he’d changed too. And she had no idea what that meant for them. If there was a them at all.

  Marc cleared his throat. “So I guess you found that check.”

  She stared at her can while fiddling with the tab. “Yup.”

  “I heard you on the phone. About the reward.”

  She stopped fiddling with the can and tried to remember what phone call he could be talking about. Then she remembered her phone ringing first thing this morning. Waking up at his house. Her conversation with Liz.

  Crud.

  “I was trying to shut Liz up,” she explained. “She was worried when I didn’t go home last night.”

  Marc scratched the dog’s ears. “Can we pretend you never found that check?”

  “So I’m supposed to pretend like I didn’t know you before. Clean slate. And now I’m supposed to pretend you didn’t try to buy me off. Anything else I’m supposed to pretend?”

  He stopped the swing and the lurch shook her head upwards, catching his gaze. His face was tight like he’d been slapped. “It’s not like that. I’m not trying to erase anything.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What about you? All you cared about was that reward money anyway. I was giving you what you wanted.”

  “What I wanted? What do you know about what I want? You want me to treat you like I don’t know anything about you; meanwhile, you’re deciding what I want and handing me orange freaking soda.”

  His nostrils flared, and he took several long, deep breaths, his jaw clenched. “Did you or did you not tell me on Friday that you wanted to help me so you could get your hands on that reward money?”

  Of course, she had. The bigger question was what the hell had happened to her since then? Even she didn’t know the
answer to that.

  “Friday was a long time ago.”

  As her words sank in, his face softened. “Yeah, it was.”

  The dog licked her, and when she reached to pet him, Marc grabbed her hand. He squeezed her fingers, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

  “Sierra.” He waited, but she still didn’t look up. Shame and fear were too strong. “I thought things were changing between us.”

  And there it was. He thought they were, but then he realized they weren’t. He didn’t feel the same way she did.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I get it. You thought wrong. You don’t have to say it.” She stood and the dog wobbled on the swing for a second before hopping down after her. “I’ll go.”

  “No, dang it. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  He grabbed her hand again and turned her to face him. When he stood, they were face to face. She stared at the workshop.

  “Look at me, Sierra.”

  She took a deep breath and met his eyes. He was right. They were different. He wasn’t the same boy she’d left standing in this same backyard fifteen years ago. But those eyes revealed the same expression, the same longing, the same plea for her to stay.

  “You’re not running away this time. Not without talking about this.”

  “I never ran away,” she said. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “But you do now.”

  He was right. She did have a choice, and it had nothing to do with that reward money.

  She could leave right now. She could save Marc from the disappointment of one day realizing she couldn’t give him the life he wanted.

  Or she could let her heart choose. She could give them a second chance.

  But how many second chances had her father given her mother before she’d walked out on them for good?

  Could she choose him and ignore the fact that this would never last. Could she ignore inevitability and enjoy the short time they’d have together? Could she choose that path, knowing the heartbreak destined to break them both? Again?

  “No one’s dragging you away this time, Sierra. It’s your choice.”

  Her hands trembled. It was an impossible choice. How could he ask her to make it?