Jackrabbit Junction Jitters

by Ann Charles

  “Does that mean you’re done objecting?” She dragged her nails down his back.

  “Christ, Kate.” His breath came in soft huffs, matching hers. “You’ve been driving me crazy since you crashed into my pickup—the first time.”

  “You sure haven’t acted like it.” She shuddered as his teeth nipped her collarbone.

  “Come into my office and I’ll try harder.” His hands spanned her hips, his body offering promises of its own.

  Cravings rippled through her. “Is that a guarantee?”

  “Only if you swear to stop playing demolition derby with my truck.”

  She directed his mouth back to hers.

  “Deal.” Her lips brushed his as she spoke. “I want you, Butch.”

  “Damn, you are such a crazy, hot mess.”

  He crushed her mouth under his, making her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging on as he bent her backwards.

  When he came up for air, he smiled down at her. “I’m glad you’re sticking around.”

  The blast of a horn made Kate look around. She pulled away from Butch, shielding her eyes, and gazed across the road.

  Mac’s pickup sat idling in front of the Creekside Supply Store. Claire hung part-way out the passenger-side window, a huge grin plastered on her black-and-blue face.

  “Mom is gonna kick your ass when she finds out what you’ve done!” she yelled loud enough for the whole damned valley to hear.

  Kate stuck out her tongue at Claire, then turned her back on the world and grabbed Butch’s hand. “Let’s go inside and finish this.”

  “Oh, we’re just getting started, Kate.”

  After a wave to Claire, he led Kate out of the heat and into the fire.

  * * *

  “Hey, Mac.” Ruby stood at the kitchen sink, up to her elbows in sudsy water, washing the dishes from Jess’s birthday dinner. “I thought you were playing Euchre.”

  “Jess is sitting in for me,” he explained.

  Grabbing a clean dishtowel from the drawer, he started drying plates. The kitchen still smelled like chocolate. The sight of the carved-up birthday cake with fudge frosting called to him, but he had something to clear up first.

  “I need to talk to you, Ruby.”

  “Uh, oh.” Ruby’s smile didn’t hide the flicker of worry behind her green eyes. “That sounds serious, darlin’.”

  Mac didn’t smile back. No need to sugarcoat the truth. Ruby liked her bad news straight, without sweetener.

  “The Lucky Monk is worthless,” he told her.

  Ruby paused in mid-scrub. Lines wrinkled her forehead. “You mean there’s no more copper in it?”

  “No, it’s rich with minerals.”

  “Honey, you’re not makin’ any sense.”

  He decided to skip all of the finer details for now. “There’s a burial chamber in it.”

  “Burial chamber? Are you talking about the room where you found that old miner?”

  Shaking his head, he grabbed another wet dish. “Further back. I found an ancient burial chamber—possibly from the late B.C. or early A.D. era. It’s full of graves.”

  Ruby dropped her sponge. “Really? In my mine?”

  “There’s no way the state will let you dig up there now. The site needs to be thoroughly studied.”

  “Have you reported it already?”

  “I didn’t have to. Sheriff Harrison and his men had to go into the chamber to collect Richard’s body.” Earlier in the day, Jess had given Ruby the low-down on Monday’s excitement. “The sheriff has to let the state know.”

  “Of course.” She fished her sponge from the suds. “I mean, if there are ancient bodies up there, then the state should be involved, right?”

  The cake plate she scrubbed on didn’t merit the extra attention she was giving it.

  Mac grasped her wrist and gently pulled the plate from her grip before she broke it in half. “It probably has great historical significance.”

  Sighing, she threw the sponge back in the water and stared down at her hands. “I know. I’m just tired of having Harley use his own money to put out my little fires. It’s just an old mine, but it was my mine. Something I could have sold.”

  “Just because you can’t extract the minerals from it doesn’t mean you can’t make a profit on this.”

  He handed her the damp towel and nudged her aside, plunging his hands in the warm water. “Who knows? This could bring you even more business in the future. Archaeology-related tourism is becoming more and more popular.”

  Ruby walked around him, grabbed a wet glass from the dish rack, and started to towel it dry. The grin she shot him was cockeyed. “Claire’s optimism is rubbing off on you.”

  “No comment.” Ruby didn’t know the half of it when it came to Claire’s influence.

  His aunt chuckled.

  Then again, maybe she did.

  Rinsing a plate, he returned to his previous train of thought. “You should probably contact the university in Tucson and give the anthropology department a heads-up. I have a feeling this is going to be a big deal.”

  “Okay.” She paused, her lips pursed. “It’s kind of exciting, you know. And to think, Joe had been sittin’ on this for years and never knew it.”

  Mac grimaced, hating that he had to burst another of her bubbles. “Joe did know about it, Ruby. He tried to hide it by walling off the tunnel and then causing that cave-in to seal off that section of the mine.”

  Joe must have taken the sandal from the dead miner’s hand around that time, unknowingly leaving behind a piece of the braided rope. He was probably going to see what kind of price it would fetch on the black market. Whether he nabbed the mummified hand, stick figure, and bag from the skeleton or the burial chamber would probably never be answered.

  Two red spots formed on her cheeks. “Of course he did.”

  The dish she had in her hands clattered louder than necessary on the stack of dry plates. “I should’ve known the bastard had tainted this, too.”

  She didn’t know the half of it. Claire and Mac had agreed that Joe’s lewd photo collection didn’t need to become public information and hid them before Sheriff Harrison and his crew got to them.

  “Hey, Mom.” Jess slid into the kitchen in the new pair of fuzzy pink slippers Claire had given her for her birthday. “Dad’s on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”

  “He is? I didn’t even hear the phone ring.”

  “Oh, I called him. You know how he always forgets to call on my birthday.”

  Ruby’s lips thinned. “He forgets, right.”

  She dropped a kiss on Jess’s forehead as she left the kitchen.

  “Aren’t you in the middle of a card game?” Mac asked Jess as he rinsed the last plate.

  “Chester had to go to the bathroom.” Jess shoved the stack of plates her mom had dried onto a shelf in the cupboard. “And Manny went outside with Harley to smoke a cigar.”

  “Why’d they go outside?”

  “Claire’s mom refused to finish the game if they didn’t.”

  Ah, good old Deborah. Mac dried his hands on the damp towel. He couldn’t wait to wave goodbye to Claire’s mother.

  Unfortunately, with Kate’s car out of commission again, his plan to take the rest of the week off so he could stay and take care of Claire had backfired. He was counting the days until Sunday, when they’d return to Tucson together.

  “Jess.” Claire stood in the doorway. “The boys are back and waiting for you.”

  “Cool.” Jess bounced toward the doorway.

  “Hey.” Claire caught Jess by the arm as she passed. “Did you put the money back?” she asked in a low voice.

  Jess’s ponytail bobbed. “I did what you said and put it exactly where she’d hidden it. Mom won’t know I touched it.”

  “Good.” Claire let Jess’s arm go. “Now go kick your new stepsister’s butt. I hate it when Mom gloats.”

  Giggling, Jess zipped into the rec room.

  Claire joined Mac
, leaning her hip against the counter. “I’ll have to tell Ruby she needs to find a new hiding place.”

  “Are you going to let her know Jess almost hopped a bus to Ohio?” Mac grabbed a Coke from the fridge and offered it to her.

  “Not if I can help it.” She stared at the can like it had been sprayed with DDT. “I’d rather have a Corona.”

  “Doc said no alcohol until you’re off the meds.”

  “Fine, spoilsport.” But her grin was flirty as she cracked open the can. “So, what do you have that will take the edge off another evening with my mother?”

  “Oh, I can think of a thing or two.” He let his gaze linger on her baby blue, Zombies Love Girls with BIG Brainnnsssss T-shirt. “If you feel up to it.”

  “That depends what you have in mind.”

  Mac took the can of Coke from her hand and set it next to the sink, then lifted her onto the counter. “Nothing too strenuous on your part.” He ran his hands up her bare thighs. “I’ll do all of the work. You can just lie back and watch.”

  Her husky laugh rippled through him. “We need to rent a motel room. This place is packed.”

  “Ruby’s office will do.” He trailed his lips over the purplish-yellow bruise on her jaw, his fingers exploring through her T-shirt. “Besides, there’s something I’ve been wanting to try in that chair.”

  Claire shivered as he nibbled on her earlobe.

  “Oh, jeez, you two! Enough already.”

  Mac pulled back at the sound of Kate’s voice.

  Standing just inside the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed, Kate smirked at them. “Can’t you find some closet to do the wild monkey dance in? This is a public place, you know. And I eat off that countertop.”

  “You’re one to talk.” Claire grabbed Mac’s hand and placed it back on her thigh. “Remind me again who gave that porn-star exhibition in The Shaft’s parking lot earlier today.”

  Kate’s forehead reddened as she shushed Claire and glanced into the rec room.

  “I can’t believe you smashed Butch’s pickup again.” Mac leaned against the counter next to Claire, shaking his head.

  Kate shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  “The poor guy has no idea what he’s getting into with this family.”

  Claire pinched Mac’s arm.

  “How did Mom take the news?” Kate asked Claire just as Deborah waltzed through the doorway.

  “How did I take what news?”

  Kate winced and turned, her smile extra wide. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Don’t you ‘Hi, Mom’ me, Kathryn Lynette.” Deborah prodded Kate further into the kitchen. “What were you thinking? That man is a bartender, for God’s sake. What future can he offer you?”

  Here they went again. The six-pack of Coors in the fridge screamed Mac’s name.

  Claire slid off the counter. “Mom, don’t—”

  “No, Claire. This is my problem.” Kate held her mother’s stare. “What Butch does for a living is none of your business. All you need to be concerned with is my happiness, and he makes me happy,” she paused and chuckled at what must have been a private joke, “very happy. So I’m staying here.”

  “Look on the bright side, Mom.” Claire crossed her arms over her chest, apparently unable to keep quiet. “At least Butch isn’t a killer—unlike your first choice.”

  “Or a thief.” Mac couldn’t resist adding that tidbit, referring to the office break-in that started this whole mess.

  Deborah shot them both a scowl before continuing with her scolding. “You’re not thinking straight, Kathryn.”

  “No, you’re the one who’s confused. You were wrong about Porter, and you’re wrong about Butch. For the first time in my life, I like a guy who has his shit together, and I’m not going to let you screw this up for me. That’s why you’re flying home without me tomorrow.”

  Mac had been the second person to volunteer to drive Deborah to the airport, right after Chester.

  Deborah turned to Claire. “Look what you’ve done.”

  “Don’t blame me. Kate’s a big girl. She hasn’t taken any of my advice since I convinced her to moon our high school football team for good luck.”

  Kate’s pointed glare said Claire wasn’t making that up.

  “All right, Kathryn.” Deborah gave in. “You stay and have your fun. But I won’t be one bit surprised to have you knocking on my door by Labor Day.”

  “We’ll see,” Kate said with another little chuckle.

  Pointing at Claire, Deborah said, “And you! Stop sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. In case you haven’t noticed, the people around here aren’t real friendly to strangers, and my heart can’t take another near-miss on your life. I didn’t endure nine months of morning sickness and a slew of stretch marks for you to just throw it away on some Angela Lansbury fantasy of yours.”

  A grin surfaced on Claire’s lips. “I love you too, Mother.”

  “As for you.” Her manicured finger now pointed at Mac. He braced himself for her stinger. “Take care of her. She says she doesn’t need a keeper, but a bodyguard might serve her well.”

  Mac blinked in surprise. “Uh …”

  “Not that you’ve done the best job of keeping her out of harm’s way so far.” Deborah walked toward the rec room.

  That was more like it. Mac’s world tilted back into place.

  “Oh, Kathryn.” Deborah paused in the doorway. “Be sure to close the door when you come to bed. Ever since your grandfather returned with his new wife, this place stinks like some cheap Vegas card room.”

  “I’m staying at Butch’s place tonight, Mom.”

  “Really?”

  Mac nudged Claire and winked. They’d figured that would be the case when they saw them in Butch’s parking lot.

  Deborah’s sniff was full of disgust. “Where did I go wrong with you two girls? Haven’t you heard of playing hard-to-get?”

  When neither Claire nor Kate responded, Deborah shook her head. “Fine. Have your little fling with Butch. But you tell him that before I leave for the airport, I want to have a talk with him.”

  With a flounce of her hair, Deborah exited the room.

  “Shit.” Kate raced after her. “Mom, no. Not yet.”

  “Poor Butch.” Mac chuckled. “First Kate, then your mother. The guy should have fled the state while he had the chance.”

  “Maybe he’s into masochism.” Claire grabbed his hand and tugged him toward her. “Come here. If you’re going to be guarding my body, I should give you a thorough tour so you don’t overlook anything.”

  His pulse jump-started at the wicked gleam in her eyes. He pinned her against the counter and tilted her chin up. “Are we talking clothes or no clothes?”

  “No clothes, definitely.” She rubbed against him, all soft skin and curves. “What do you say, tough guy? You up to the task?”

  “Maybe.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, breathing her in. She smelled like chocolate and all things Claire.

  “Where’s your tool belt?”

  * * *

  Thursday, August 26th

  “Ruby found your tool belt in the office again,” Gramps told Claire as he tore another chunk of sheetrock from the wall behind the faulty toilet that had been giving Claire fits since she’d arrived at the R.V. park two weeks ago.

  “Sorry about that.” Claire fanned her sweaty T-shirt in the sweltering, concrete block room.

  The perfume of newly weed-whacked grass filtered in through the open window, along with fat, black flies and a steady stream of humid air, to add to the lovely aroma of ammonia-based disinfectant. A monsoon swelled on the southern horizon, building another gully washer under the white-hot sun.

  Henry sprawled nearby on the floor, snapping at any fly that buzzed too close to his drooping ears. He hadn’t left Gramps’s side since Ruby and he returned from Vegas, nor was he acknowledging Claire’s presence anymore. The freaking mutt acted as if he’d spent the last week receiving d
aily canings instead of slipping free of his collar each day to chase butterflies and grasshoppers, eat handouts from campers, and shit and piss wherever he damn well pleased.

  “Mac and you need to sell tickets to your tool belt shows.” Manny grinned so wide his moustache curled at the corners. He sat on the sink counter next to Claire, sharing her bag of barbecued pork rinds. “You could advertise at The Double D strip joint, especially on Wednesday nights.”

  “What’s so special about Wednesday nights?” Claire crunched on a piece of fried barbecued pork fat.

  He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Nude mud wrestling.”

  Chester crushed his empty beer can and tossed it in the trash. “That depends on whether she or Mac wears the tool belt.”

  Gramps aimed the crowbar he was using to strip the drywall at Manny and then Chester. “Stop talking about my granddaughter and sex.”

  Manny chuckled and winked at Claire. “He’s so easy.”

  “Hey, Gramps.” Claire remembered something that had been bugging her for days now. “What was in that package you sent to Mac at work?”

  Gramps snorted. “None of your damned business, girl.”

  A belch rattled from Chester’s throat. “Who jammed a stick up your ass today, Harley?”

  “He’s just suffering from a case of penis envy.”

  Claire shot Manny a huh? look.

  “Sì. Ruby kicked his ass in the Euchre tournament. It’s pretty obvious his new wife wears the pants in his casa.”

  “Keep flappin’ your lips, Carrera,” Gramps said, tearing off more sheetrock, “and I’ll be jamming this crowbar up your—”

  “Hey, what’s that?” Claire hopped off the sink counter and walked over to the stall where Gramps stood sweating.

  A small piece of wood bridged the pair of two-by-fours Gramps had just exposed that ran parallel up the wall on the right side of the sewer vent pipe. On this makeshift shelf sat a small jewelry box, like the one Claire had when she was seven, including the frilly pink scrolls.

  Tossing the chunk of drywall he’d freed onto the pile in the middle of the room, Gramps lifted the box from the shelf.

  Chester peered into the stall over Claire’s shoulder. “It looks like something of Jess’s.”

  “Move your block head, Thomas.” Manny said.