Kym gasped. “Well, you’re a grump.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Dramatic princess!”
“Busybody!”
“Grouchy grump!”
“Meddlesome mope!”
“Grumbling goon!”
“Interfering imp!”
Kym blustered. “Hank!”
I stopped. “Did you just call me Hank?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else grumpy.”
I snorted with laughter. “You win. I can’t beat that.”
Kym gave a small laugh and yanked me into a bear hug. “I love you. I’ll stop talking about Evan and Brett.”
“Thank you. I love you too.”
Aaron sped out of the front door and skidded to a halted in front of us. “Why are you always hugging people?” he asked Kym with a scrunched nose.
“Because everyone needs a hug,” she said with twinkling eyes. “I think I know of a boy who needs a hug too.”
He took two giant steps back. “Not here,” he pleaded. “There are other kids. I might have to see them this fall in school.”
Kym frowned. “They grow up so fast.”
“I’ve been grown up,” he stated.
“That’s true,” Kym agreed. “But I still get to spoil you.”
“Speaking of spoiled, how are the ladies?” I asked.
“Good. Ida ordered a pizza,” he said.
“Smuggle us a couple of slices,” I said.
He gave a nod. “I’ll try, but she’s very territorial. Sylvia was going to sneak a piece and was nearly stabbed with the pizza spatula.”
“Forget my request,” I said. “I don’t want to have to pull a spatula out of anyone.”
“What about Mrs. J. and Edna?” Kym asked.
“They seem to be okay,” he replied. “Mrs. J. has her eye on things and Edna just follows Mrs. J.”
“Have you played any games?” Kym asked.
He shook his head. “Mrs. J. said she wanted to try Fruit Ninja. I’ve been waiting for her to take a break so we can play together. It should be soon though.”
“Why don’t you head back in then,” Kym suggested. “We can keep the place safe in her absence.”
Aaron grinned. “Okay! I’ll go tell her.” He raced back inside.
“Aaron seems to be doing really well,” I said.
“He has been a complete joy to have around,” Kym said. “I am a little worried about school, though. He’s never been in one before. I know he’ll do fine with his classes; the kid is a genius. I’m just afraid of the other kids. They can be cruel.”
“I can understand your concern. But think about it this way: He’s survived a predator. School will be a walk in the park. And, if not, we’ll turn Mrs. J. loose on them,” I said with a mischievous smile.
Kym giggled. “She does tend to put people on their ears.”
Yes, she does, I silently agreed.
“Is that Bob?” Kym asked, pointing over at the adjacent parking lot.
I squinted to see the man walking to the bar. “I think so,” I said. “I saw him go into that same bar the other day.”
“Why isn’t he at Road Hog with Mac?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing. Mac said he’s been working odd jobs. Maybe he’s working there.”
“Should we go check it out?” Kym asked, itching to investigate.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek,” I said nonchalantly, even though I had the same itch.
We stood and crossed over to the bar that, sadly, had more cars parked at it than Road Hog.
“Look through the window,” Kym said.
I slid next to the window and peered in. It wasn’t a fancy bar or anything remotely special. No jumbo screen. No dartboard or pool table. Just a bar with a few scattered tables. But I couldn’t see Bob. Where did he disappear to again?
“It’s not much of a bar,” I told Kym. “Even Road Hog is better than this place.”
“Then how come they have more customers?” Kym asked.
I took another peek through the window. “That’s the funny thing,” I said. “I don’t see any customers.”
“What?” Kym asked, tugging me back so she could look. “Where is everyone? Where is Bob?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should we go inside?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t like the feel of this place.”
“It’s just a bar,” she said.
“It’s giving off a creepy vibe,” I said.
The front door opened, and a man in his mid-thirties appeared. His head was shaved and he wore a short beard and gold hoop earrings. He looked like Mr. Clean . . . with a beard. Tattoos. Hardened stare. Actually, he didn’t look like Mr. Clean at all. He looked like he wanted to fight. “Are you ladies coming in or just practicing to be spies?”
I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or trying to run us off. His words were mocking and his eyes were hard.
Kym took a step back. “We thought a friend was going to be here.”
“There’s no one here except for me,” he stated firmly. “Come inside and I’ll mix you a drink on the house.”
I glanced around the parking lot to the dozen or so cars parked. We had both seen Bob walk in there. Why was this guy lying?
A part of me wanted to find out. That was the dumb part. The smart part wanted to leave. Very quickly.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said under my breath. Kym gave a hurried nod and backed away from the building.
The man took a step forward. “Stay and have a drink.”
I vehemently shook my head. “We have to find our friend.”
“Tell me the friend’s name,” he said, his eyes turning suspicious. “I’ll relay a message.”
“Please don’t concern yourself with it,” I said as Kym and I shuffled farther away. “We’ll find her eventually.”
“Her?” he questioned.
“Yes. Roberta is always getting lost,” I tittered nervously.
“Oh, yes. Always,” Kym agreed.
His brow darkened. I grabbed Kym’s arm and tugged her away. We hurried back to Shanty Arcade and out from his line of vision.
“That guy gave me the creeps,” Kym said when we finally stopped at the arcade door. “Why did you give him a woman’s name? It’s rather obvious no women would step foot in there.”
“That’s what I thought. I had hoped if he heard we were looking for a woman and not a man, he wouldn’t be suspicious.”
“I don’t think it worked.”
“Me neither. I want to know what Bob is doing in a place like that. I mean, I know he looks like a tough biker, but he’s really not.”
“Do you think he’s in trouble?” Kym asked.
“I don’t know. There’s a full parking lot and no customers. Something’s going on.”
“Maybe Mac knows what he’s up to,” Kym offered. “We’ll drill him for information.”
I gave her a sideway glance. “You’re starting to sound like Mrs. J.”
Kym’s eyes popped open wide, and then she gave a shy smile. “She does tend to rub off on a person.”
“Yes, she does.”
Aaron flew out of the front door and grabbed our arms. “Hurry!”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“It’s Mrs. J.! She’s hurt.”
Kym and I swapped the same worried expression as Aaron yanked us into the building.
He led the way, weaving through arcade games and rambunctious adolescents until we reached a mob of onlookers. I pushed my way through until I found Mrs. Janowski in a very awkward position, with Edna next to her, twisting her hands while occasionally squeaking.
I cocked my head to the side to get a better view. “Mrs. J., what are you doing?”
“I seem to be stuck,” she answered. “My back kinked and my legs conked.”
“Are you in pain?” I asked, assessing her.
“Only when I move.”
She attempted to straighten but seized, yelping in pain.
I stifled a curse. “I’ll call Evan.”
“No!” she fairly shouted and then winced in pain. “He’ll try to flatten me on the stretcher,” she finally said once she caught her breath.
I turned to Kym. “Call Evan,” I whispered. She nodded and pulled out her phone.
“We’re going to have to move you somehow,” I said. “You can’t stay here forever. You’ll end up being the statue that kids stick their gum on.”
Edna grimaced. “They stick their gum on everything.”
“That’s true,” Mrs. Janowski agreed through gritted teeth. “I once found some in my birdbath. Unless the birds are on a new diet, I have a sneaking suspicion it was little Robbie from next door.”
“That’s not nearly as bad as the toilet incident of ’94,” Edna said.
“God, that was a year to remember,” Mrs. Janowski concurred. “Never go up against the scouts. Devious little devils.”
“Mrs. J., how did you end up like this, anyway?” I asked.
“I was playing a game with Aaron,” she said.
Aaron grinned. “She was awesome. Well, until . . .” He gestured to her current abstract form.
My eyes slid to the game behind her. “How did you injure yourself playing Fruit Ninja?”
Aaron giggled with a snort. “She tried to be a real ninja.”
“No sense in playing if you’re not going to do it a hundred percent,” she said.
“Yes, but you don’t have to kick,” Aaron replied. “You’re just supposed to use your hands.”
Mrs. Janowski grunted. “They should put a warning on these things.”
“It gave directions at the beginning,” Aaron said.
“I thought it might give me a secret bonus score if I used extra limbs.”
I turned to Kym. “Is Evan on his way?”
She nodded. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Mrs. J., do you think you can at least make it to the door?” I asked.
“Possibly,” she said thoughtfully. “Tip me over and I can try to crawl.”
“I’m not going to tip you over,” I said. “You’ll scream in pain.”
“Only once,” she said with a determined brow. “Us ninjas fight through the pain. Of course, I’d rather you knock me out first and then roll me to the door.”
“I’m not doing either,” I said. “We’ll wait for Evan.”
Thankfully, Evan arrived a few minutes later, but without his uniform. Was he in school? Or was school out of session? Seriously, I can’t keep track of his schedule.
Evan gave me a quick kiss and then glanced between Mrs. Janowski and the offending game. “I take it the game won,” he surmised with a quirked brow. “Mrs. J., I’m off-duty but I have something that will help ease the pain so we can get you out of here. Just don’t sue me if you have side effects.”
“Anything!” she agreed.
He turned to Aaron. “Can you grab a cup of water?”
Aaron nodded and squeezed through the lingering crowd.
Evan leaned over to me to whisper, “Was she trying to be a real ninja?”
“It was the kick that did her in,” I answered.
“I was doing fine until that dang watermelon popped up out of nowhere,” she complained.
“You could have let it fall,” Edna said.
“And let Aaron win after he claimed to be unbeatable?” Mrs. Janowski questioned. “He threw down the gauntlet.”
“He’s eleven.”
“And I’m . . . Well, age isn’t the point.”
“What is the point?” Evan asked.
Mrs. Janowski opened her mouth to answer but quickly shut it again. And opened and shut her mouth again.
“Well?” I prodded.
“It’s that damn watermelon,” she grumbled. “The biggest fruit on the board and it escapes me every time. I refuse to be thwarted by a melon!”
Evan scratched his jaw. “I must be hanging around you ladies too much. That made sense. I probably wouldn’t be upset if I missed a lemon. But a melon . . .” He looked thoughtful.
My head began aching at that moment, making me suspect I’d been hanging around the ladies too much as well. I used to get headaches much sooner than this.
Chapter 7
The next morning I found myself returning to the headache source. I rapped on Mrs. Janowski’s door.
“Come in!” Mrs. Janowski yelped.
I let myself in and then hollered, “Where are you?”
“Bedroom. Come on up,” she answered in a strained voice.
I followed the trail of her voice and climbed the stairs.
“Last door on the left,” she added.
The door was cracked open. I inched it open to peek inside and only found darkness.
“Mrs. J.?”
“Open the shade,” she requested.
I padded over to the window that was emitting a slash of light onto the ground. Pulling on the string to draw the shade, the room flooded with morning rays. Mrs. Janowski squinted at the sudden brightness.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, glancing at her before scanning the room. It was pink. Pink and frilly.
Odd.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. Camouflage, yes. Pepto satin and lace, no.
“I’ll be fine,” Mrs. Janowski answered. “I just tweaked my back.”
My eyes returned to her. “You look like a tortured spring,” I said, watching as she tried to uncurl, only to return to the same position with a pained grunt. “Stay in bed. I’ll get whatever you need.”
“Unless you can drag the toilet in here,” she said, “I’ll need to get up.”
Oh.
“Let me help you,” I said, hurrying to her side. I held on to her arm as she used me to hoist herself into an awkward standing position. “Can you walk?” I asked.
“I can try,” she said. “Stand back if I fall. No use in us both going down.”
She gritted her teeth as she maneuvered to the door.
“I’ll take off work today and stay with you,” I said. “You’re hardly in any condition to move about.”
She hobbled a few inches forward before saying, “Don’t be a fuss bucket. Edna is coming over soon. She’ll help me.”
“You’re not planning on going to the arcade tonight, are you?”
Mrs. Janowski pressed her lips together.
“Mrs. J.?” I asked with warning in my tone.
“I can sit at the concession stand and keep my eye on things.”
“You can barely walk,” I said, following her trail inch by inch.
“My eyes work just fine. If I’m going to sit on my duff, it might as well be at work.”
“They’re paying you with tokens.”
“I’m not doing this for money. You know that,” she said, slowly creaking down the hallway. “I want to help protect this city. If I’m only able to use my eyes, then that is what I’ll do.”
I let that sink in as we reached the bathroom door. I don’t always give Mrs. Janowski and the ladies as many kudos as they probably deserve — though it’s rather hard when they’re bickering and causing mischief. But, they try harder than most and their intentions are good . . . if somewhat misguided. All in all, I’m quite proud to be stuck with them.
“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Mrs. Janowski said, stepping into the bathroom.
“Just thinking.”
She gave a knowing nod. “Of the boys?”
“The boys?”
“Brett and Evan,” she said. “If you need help picking the right man, just let me know.”
My brow arched. “I wasn’t thinking of either of them.”
“Good. Never dwell on the future. It will happen with or without your worries.”
“Quite philosophical for such an early hour.”
>
“With age grows wisdom . . . and a shrinking bladder,” she said with a squeak.
“Should I stay?” I asked as she whipped the door closed.
“No need!”
“Are you . . .”
“Stop being a fusspot!”
I shook my head and took my leave. Good thing Edna was coming over or I might have felt obligated to stay even though Mrs. Janowski clearly wasn’t interested in my help.
* * *
“It’s about time you got here,” Hank grumbled from behind the bar.
“I’m on time,” I said, making my way over.
“You’re a day late,” he said.
“Didn’t Ida call you?”
“Yes.”
“Were you busy last night?”
“No.”
“So, it wasn’t a problem, was it?” I asked with a hint of concern. He was my boss, after all.
Jack swung out of the kitchen door. “Hey, Mars! We missed you last night.”
Hank muttered something and tossed his cleaning rag onto the counter. Jack and I both watched as he muttered again and pushed through the back door.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, my eyes on the door Hank disappeared through.
Jack gave a single-shoulder shrug. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Why do I get the feeling that Hank is mad at me?”
“He’s not mad,” Jack said. “He just missed you.”
“Missed me?”
The corners of Jack’s lips kicked up. “No one listens to his grumblings like you do.”
“It’s kind of hard not to listen.”
“Whether you know it or not, he’s happier when you’re here.”
“How can you tell?” I asked dubiously.
“He complains more.”
“He complains more?” I repeated. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
Jack gave a lopsided smile. “You’ll figure him out eventually.”
The front door swung open and Mac walked in, making a beeline for his barstool. “Jack, grab me a burger. I’m starving.”
“You got it,” Jack said, pushing through the kitchen door.
“How are you, Mac?” I asked, tapping a beer and sliding it in front of him.
“Starving.”
“Yes. I heard,” I said. “Where’s Bob?”
“Probably working his side job again,” he said and took a large gulp of beer.
Security Squad Page 5
