by Alice Sabo
“Like you said, he seems like a good guy. I suppose I won’t really know until we get into it. As long as he stays sober and does his job, I’m good.”
“And he’s awfully easy on the eyes,” Bunny said with a wink.
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yes, I suppose there is that.”
“I just heard from Hannah. She’s onboard for hair, and she’s going to love how long his is. Although I bet they get rid of the gray.”
Oscar shrugged. “They can shave him bald for all I care.”
Bunny drained his glass and held it out to Oscar. “I need another. This has been an especially vexing day. Did you talk to the police?”
Oscar collected the glass. “No. I was up at the stables the whole time.” He went back to the kitchen for refills.
“I don’t like thinking about a murderer in the woods.”
Oscar handed Bunny his wine. “Small town like this, it’s usually drugs or domestic violence. I don’t think we’re in any danger here.”
Bunny frowned at the front door. “Well, I hope you’re right because those locks are a joke and all these windows. . .” He waved to take in the whole cottage.
“We’re fine. Nothing’s going to happen to us. We’re out here to relax a little before things get started. I found another festival.” Oscar pulled a crumpled flyer from his pocket.
“Lovely,” Bunny said under his breath. “More bearded men plunking and crooning.”
Chapter 7
An explosion rattled the windows and shook the floor. Asher bolted out of bed running for the baby’s room only to slam into the doorjamb. Lights sparked in his vision as he scrambled for a lamp. The floor stopped moving immediately, so it might not be an earthquake. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. When he finally located a wall switch, the lights made him squint, but he realized where he was. North Carolina, not California.
A flicker caught his eye, and he went to the window to investigate. A smaller explosion boomed out, only rattling the windows this time. Flames rose above the woods, far enough away that he wasn’t in immediate danger, but close enough to be damn scary. Asher grabbed his robe and slippers before running out the back door. The cottage between his and Bunny’s was still empty, the windows dark. He found Bunny and Oscar already out on the lawn watching the fire. A few people in night clothes wandered over from the main house. Bunny beckoned to Asher.
“Are you all right?”
“I don’t know. Scared the poop outta me.”
Oscar laughed. “Spoken like a good parent.”
“What do you think it was?” Asher asked.
Bunny shot a look at Oscar, who was ignoring him. “Meth lab.”
“Here?”
“I read an article that said the moonshiners had all converted their equipment. Very few dry towns anymore. They needed to modernize.”
Asher gazed up at the clouds of smoke rising above the trees. An occasional flicker of light through the woods showed that the fire was still burning. “Okay, so how toxic is that smoke, and how fast is that fire moving?”
The sound of sirens blew past on the road heading toward the fire.
Bunny turned, as if he could see the fire trucks. “I think it’s rained nearly every day since we got here, and the undergrowth here isn’t nearly as dry as back home. We should be safe. But you’re right about that smoke. Oscar, which way is the wind blowing?”
“How should I know,” he snapped back.
“You know things like that,” Bunny retorted.
“Wind direction? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well how hard is it to figure out?”
Mrs. Wheatly’s arrival put an end to the bickering. A sheriff’s deputy accompanied her as she counted heads and smoothed feathers. She invited them all in to the breakfast room for tea. Asher shuffled along with the rest of them, too tired to do anything else and too shaken up to sleep.
Bunny took his arm steering him and Oscar to a table by the window, but the bright room was all Asher could see reflected in the glass.
“Oh dear, what happened?”
Asher realized Bunny was talking to him. “What?”
“You hit your head, didn’t you?”
Asher reached up to touch his tender face. A sore line ran from forehead to cheekbone. “Ran into a wall. I thought I was at home, and it was an earthquake. I was running for Sharon’s room.”
Bunny raised an eyebrow. “Not Thomas?”
“Ellie gets Thomas. I get Sharon. That’s the emergency plan.”
Bunny patted his arm. “That’s very sweet. But you are going to have a black eye tomorrow.”
Asher groaned. “Now makeup will hate me.”
“We can lie and say Imre did it,” Oscar offered.
Asher smiled carefully. “Would that be better?”
They were served pots of mint tea and plates of generic cookies. Bunny kept squinting out the window, but Asher couldn’t see what he was looking for. The sky was starting to lighten when another deputy sheriff arrived to tell them all they had to evacuate.
“I need time to pack,” Bunny announced, his voice dripping with indignation.
“No time. Winds are gusting. Fire’s moving too fast. Everybody out. We got a bus out front.”
In no time at all, they were loaded onto a yellow school bus and whisked away to an elementary school gymnasium where they joined a handful of local residents and a dozen tourists.
“At least I’m not the only one in a bathrobe,” Asher grumbled.
“Please tell me you have something on under it,” Bunny said softly.
Asher tightened his sash. “Underwear.”
Both Bunny and Oscar had pajamas on under their robes. Asher was jealous. He didn’t like the theme of being underdressed that was developing. He was going to buy pajamas first thing tomorrow, or today, because it was morning already.
The locals stayed clustered in one corner talking in angry undertones with the deputy.
“Looks like they’re not too happy,” Asher commented.
“They have probably complained about the meth lab before and are angry that the police haven’t done anything about it.” Bunny folded his arms and frowned at the group.
“Sheriff,” Oscar corrected. “They don’t have any police out here.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Sort of.”
Asher bit his lip to keep a straight face. Bunny and Oscar bickered like an old couple, but the levity didn’t mask the seriousness of the situation. Once more, he was without money, a phone or identification. And more disturbingly, pants.
A short time later, a man in fire gear came into the room bringing a strong smell of smoke with him. “Okay folks, the situation is almost under control. We’re just wetting down the hotspots now. You should be able to go home in a little bit.” He was back out the door before anyone could question him.
Bunny shifted on his metal folding chair making it squeak. “I hope that means that my belongings are intact.”
Oscar grinned at Asher. “At least your stuff’ll dry now.”
Chapter 8
Walking in the front door of his cottage, Asher saw a scene of total chaos. Clothes were everywhere, and the earthy stink of pond water permeated the whole house. Last night, he’d emptied his soggy suitcases and draped his clothes on every available surface. Now he was tired and cranky, and his stomach was rocky from lack of sleep. The smell of muck was an assault on his battered senses. He ignored it all, stumbling for the shower.
Out the bathroom window, he could see the woods. The fire had come right to the edge of the lawn. His first thought was that he nearly lost all his belongings, again. The second thing that occurred to him was that any clues from the body in the woods were totally eradicated. But that wasn’t his responsibility. That dead body had nothing to do with him. Probably a local attacked by a bear. Tragic, but not sinister. He held firmly to that belief, despite an uneasy feeling in his gut.
He showered as best he
could in the adapted arrangement of the old claw-footed tub. The set up wasn’t designed with people of his height in mind. He could imagine Thomas sailing some boats and a ducky or two in this big tub, and that made him smile. He dressed in the clothes Bunny had brought him and wrote himself a note to ask what he owed.
The kitchen was stocked with enough food to tide him over for a day or two. It was something Ellie had arranged beforehand, but he was surprised at the quality of the food. French roast coffee, three kinds of goat cheese, that lovely rye bread, free-range eggs and Amish butter. He took the chive flavored cheese to scramble with his eggs. Attached to the container, was a little card inviting him to visit the goat farm. He stuck it to the fridge with one of the many teapot-shaped magnets. Might be fun to take the kids there. Also on the fridge was a flyer with the number for a laundry service. He used the cottage’s phone, an old wall model with a long cord, to call for a pickup.
Ellie had told him that he didn’t need to do everything himself while he was working, as long as he was the one delegating. He had spent all his time learning to do the mundane chores of life after he got out of the state hospital. They had drilled it into him that he had to learn to take care of himself. He took it to heart and worked very hard at laundry and grocery shopping and paying the bills. So he felt very pleased with himself to be scheduling laundry service. Otherwise he’d spend an entire day in a laundromat with this mess. After he found a laundromat and figured out how to get there.
He felt better after eating, and having clothes on. He got his list for the day and was thinking about locating the closest grocery store, when he saw a card for that, too. He realized it was the same number as the laundry service. So he made a list and figured he could give it to whomever showed up. A knock on the door said they had arrived.
He knew her as soon as he opened the door. He didn’t know who she was, but he knew what. A skinny, pale woman and two teenagers waited on the porch. She looked old, but probably wasn’t. From the puckering of her mouth, she was missing teeth. On one side of her stood an equally thin, shy girl of about sixteen. On the other, a lanky boy, closer to eighteen. The kids had broad faces full of freckles and strong, square jaws. They didn’t look like the woman, until Asher saw that they all had hazel eyes with a greenish cast. In the vibrant young eyes, Asher could see what their mother should have been.
“Laundry?” the young man said flatly.
“Come on in,” Asher said beckoning them into his small, smelly sitting room.
“Oh, you must be the fella ended up in Jenkins pond.” The mother’s slight lisp confirmed the missing teeth.
“I’m Asher,” he said offering his hand. She gave him the tips of her fingers in a floppy grip.
“I’m Alma, this is Jolene—”
“Jo,” the young girl interrupted
“. . .and Jeffrey.”
“Jeff,” the boy corrected.
Alma gaped at the clothes scattered around the room. Her shoulders slumped as if the work before her was more than she could handle. “You need all of it done?”
“I’ll get bags,” Jo said. She was out the door in a heartbeat.
“We’ll need a deposit,” Jeff said.
And that told Asher all he needed to know about the family dynamics. “Do you do the grocery shopping, too?”
“We can,” Jeff said. For some reason that question seemed to please the boy.
“I’ve got a list.” Asher stepped into the kitchen for the list he’d left on the table. He handed it to Alma, but she didn’t even glance at it before handing it to Jeff. Asher wondered if she was illiterate.
“We’ll need a bigger deposit for this,” Jeff said without even glancing at the list.
Asher’s wallet was drying on the dresser in the bedroom. He’d brought a lot of cash with him, knowing it might take awhile to sort himself out. He scooped it all up, putting the credit cards and most of the money back in before he returned to the sitting room. When he went back, Alma was alone. Jo and Jeff were stuffing filled bags into the back of a battered old wreck of a car parked right outside.
“How long have you been sober?” Asher asked quietly.
Her eyes widened. “How. . .that ain’t none of your business.”
“Three years, eight months,” he said. “It’s still hard on bad days, but my kids make a big difference.”
Alma stared at him with sad eyes. Her ash-blonde hair was limp and looked like it could use a wash. A big contrast to her children with their thick, rust-red hair. Her clothes were threadbare but clean. She had a blurry tattoo on her right wrist. “Fourteen months next week. If it weren’t for my kids, I wouldn’t even be tryin’.”
Asher offered her three hundred dollars. She shuffled back a step and stared at his outstretched hand. Jo and Jeff came back in with more bags.
“I handle the money,” Jeff said, taking the cash from Asher.
“Can you give me a receipt? My accountant will want to know what I’m spending my money on.”
“I’m going to be an accountant,” Jo piped up.
She was young, but bright-eyed. That gave Asher an idea. “Can you make a spreadsheet of expenses for me? I’m going to need the laundry and shopping done the whole time I’m here. It would make it a lot easier for me if you could track it. And I can pay you for it.”
She smiled at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. The hazel in her eyes had a bit more green than her brother’s. “Yes.” She traded pleased looks with Jeff as he counted the cash.
“Good.” Asher knew where that money would end up if Alma took it which made him ask, “Think that explosion last night was a meth lab?”
Jeff smiled. Jo stared at the floor.
“Oh, Clyde was. . .” Alma’s eyes lost focus, then her face went blank. She folded her arms tight against her body.
There was a knock at the door as Bunny let himself in. “Asher?” He paused, eyeing the three strangers and the cash in Jeff’s hand.
“These are the laundry service people. They do grocery shopping, too,” Asher said hurriedly. Because he knew that if he could peg Alma as an addict, Bunny could, too. The last thing he needed was anyone thinking that he was buying drugs.
“Hmm.” Bunny gave them a critical inspection.
Jeff stood up to him which unexpectedly cheered Asher.
Jo started cramming more damp clothes into trash bags. Alma was gawking at Bunny, who today was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots, but the burnt orange, fleece-lined, embroidered suede vest over an ivory, full-sleeve raw silk shirt was a bit dramatic. He appeared to be half Norseman, half pirate. And the suede satchel that matched the vest was orange frosting on a flamboyant cake.
“Who does the cooking in your family?” Bunny asked.
“I do,” Jeff said, squaring his shoulders.
“Do you know what mahi is?”
“Dolphin.”
“Shiitake?”
“Mushroom.”
“Escarole?”
“A chicory?” Jeff twitched a shoulder. “I’m going to culinary school next year,” he said with a tone of defiance.
“Close enough. It’s an endive.” Which he pronounced on-deeve. Bunny pulled a paper out of his satchel. “Here is a list of things I need from the store. I will expect top quality. If we’re not back before you, leave my things in Asher’s kitchen. Asher, give him a key.”
If Asher was startled, Jeff was amazed. But he didn’t say anything, standing a hair taller, looking a smidge more confident. Bunny gave him the list and more money. Asher gave him the key, then gathered up all his water-logged electronics and headed out with Bunny. He felt a little odd leaving everything in the kid’s hands but took his cue from Bunny.
The first stop was the local computer repair shop. The closest town was Left Fork which made Asher smile every time he said it. It had a main street with wide sidewalks and shops on either side like he imagined a small town should be. They passed the fabric store on the way in, giving him a new landmark. He left h
is phone, laptop and tablet with a young man who thought he might be able to fix them. Then Bunny drove over to Pine Ridge, the next town off the interstate. It had a strip of big-name box stores right off the exit. About a mile up was a downtown area similar to Left Fork. There was a main street with cafes, a bakery and Dad’s Stationery.
Asher found a calendar in a zipper case that had places for notes and phone numbers, a pen, and pockets for receipts. It was exactly what he needed. In fact, there were all different kinds, a whole aisle in the store. It occurred to him that most people didn’t have assistants. They used things like this which assured him that he could do it, too. He wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, but he was getting past that, slowly but surely. He bought a selection of pens, some notebooks and a satchel with a long strap to lug it all around in.
There was a small shoe store next door, so he bought loafers, sneakers and two pairs of dress shoes to replace his waterlogged ones. Unfortunately, he didn’t see anywhere to buy pajamas. Bunny walked him over to a bistro around the corner for a marvelous lunch of Indian food. The waitress gave them huge plastic tumblers of water, a basket of crisp, spicy papadums and a condiment tray with three chutneys.
While they ate, he wrote down phone numbers in his book from the scraps of paper he’d scribbled them on last night. They had all been conveniently loaded into his various electronic devices, so he hadn’t committed any to memory. Bunny, George, Ellie, Oscar and Denny, he should memorize those. He didn’t want to lose them again. And he needed to hunt down a few more. Ellie had given him Denny’s number. He wasn’t sure who else he needed right away.
“You can get all your phone information online,” Bunny said between bites of samosas.
“I can’t get online right now. Everything got wet. If you hadn’t gotten Ellie’s number from George last night, I couldn’t call her. I need to be able to call her.” Asher spooned up some dal. It was smooth and fragrant with spices.
Bunny gave him an appraising look. “How long have you known Ellie?”
“Forever. She was my assistant way back when.” Asher could see the change, the wariness in Bunny’s eyes. He was still being judged.
