She did love it. It was all she had. Many times, when she couldn’t pay the rent, she had lived in that car, parked it at nice hotels, away from prying eyes and crowbars. I’m staying at the Marriott, she’d tell herself and slip into an obscure slot. Not a room with two queens and a Jacuzzi tub, but a safe place for her and her car. No security guard looked twice at her shiny red car as long as she stayed down low.
Suddenly anger stirred. She tried to resist, but fury boiled up. What right had someone to take her car, even for a prank, even for a joyride? It was hers. So what if she hadn’t bought it? She had paid for it in so many ways, holding her tongue against demeaning remarks, trying to make herself as small and unobtrusive as a five-foot-ten teenage girl could, never arguing, never complaining. She deserved that car, even if it was her one-way ticket out of her uncle’s home the minute they could justifiably be rid of her.
Alessi sighed. It was her fault. She’d betrayed her car, left it vulnerable. Swept up in hopes for Charity, she’d been thoughtless, uncaring. She pressed her palm to her forehead. What were these depressing thoughts? Of course it would turn out all right. Wasn’t this place named Charity, for heaven’s sake? Why name a town Charity if it wasn’t the most hospitable, caring place on the planet?
She climbed out of bed, took off Steve’s clothes, and dressed. She made the bed neatly, folded the sweats and T-shirt, and laid them at the foot. Of course, she had no personal hygiene items—no brush, toothbrush, or cosmetics.
Well, Ben and Dave would have to deal with her au natural. She snuck out to the bathroom across the hall. Her cabinet search revealed a bottle of Scope—better than nothing. A comb lay on the counter and she picked it up, scrutinized it, then brought it with difficulty through her shoulder-length curls. Her hair was as fine as Aunt Carrie’s but not straight. Most of the time she was glad for that. People paid a lot of money for the kind of attitude that grew naturally on her head. Aunt Carrie added chemical highlights to make her hair glow. Alessi had to depend on the sun.
Judging by the dim gray of the frosted bathroom window, there was little sun today. So who was she trying to impress? She left the bathroom and smelled coffee. Ben was at the circular glass kitchen table, mug between his hands, Bible open to Proverbs. Her scarecrow had a brain.
“Anything in there about lost cars?”
He looked up and smiled. “No. But it says ‘A cheerful look brings joy to the heart, and good news gives health to the bones.’”
“Has there been good news?” She clutched the top of the wicker chair.
“Not yet. But I like to start out expecting it.” A man after her own heart.
“You want some coffee?” He made to stand.
“I’ll get it.” She’d already located the pot. Mugs must be close. The cabinet above. She took down a Garfield cup that said Got Lasagna? She filled it with coffee and quipped, “Got milk?”
“Got some half-and-half in the fridge. Dave likes it,” Ben said.
So did she, though she usually settled for milk. Her stomach was still content from Moll’s meatloaf, so she sat down with her coffee and watched Ben.
He tapped the page with the backs of his fingers. “I read a chapter every day from Proverbs. Some of it’s got to stick, don’t you think?”
She smiled. “I’m sure.”
“It also says ‘The fear of the Lord teaches a man wisdom, and humility comes before honor.’”
“Why aren’t you married, Ben? I thought all men like you were snatched up.”
He actually blushed. “Well, I’m in a situation, see.” He closed his Bible and set it aside. “I’ve been seeing a woman, Mary, for three years. She’s got twin girls, Cait and Lyn.” He looked down into his coffee. “She had a rough go of it first time around.”
Alessi looked into his face and almost saw a halo. It was there, she was sure. Without thinking, she squeezed his hand. “Three years is a long time.” She knew. She’d spent her last three doing the best she could with almost nothing to show for it. Actually nothing, now. But she had to stop thinking in terms of that car. It might be gone for good.
“She’s got to work out her troubles from that before she can think of remarrying. Her and the girls both.”
Alessi nodded. “It can’t be easy.”
The door opened, and Steve blew in on a cold wind. His hair was worse than the night before, the shadow had become stubble, and his scowl was firmly in place. He looked her over, noting with a quirk of eyebrows her change of clothes. “Good morning.”
His civil greeting caught her off guard. “Hi. I left your things on the bed. I’d wash them but …” She spread her hands.
“Don’t worry about it.” He went to the counter and poured coffee into a wide-eyed Tweety Bird mug that read, I did, I did! But it was no puddy-tat that gripped him.
“Sleep all right?” Ben asked.
“Sure.” Steve sipped his coffee.
Alessi stood, wrapped herself in her arms. “I guess I’ll just go see if someone returned my car.” She had on the same top she’d worn the day before and felt the chill as she stepped outside. What shirt would she have chosen if she’d known it would become her sole possession? She closed her eyes for half a breath. The ribbon-embroidered cashmere sweater she’d splurged on at the Goodwill. Definitely.
Four
DID I HEAR RIGHT?” Steve turned to Ben.
Ben nodded. “She thinks it might be a prank.” He spread his hands. “Maybe it is.”
Steve looked at the door she’d exited. What crazy wind had blown that tall, awkward bird into their nest? He went to the closet, pulled on his brown bomber jacket, and went back out. He found her standing at the gas pumps, looking disappointed. Had she actually thought it would be there?
“It’s understandable.” She looked one way up the street, then the other. “The first time I slid into that leather seat, cranked some tunes, and stepped on the gas, I fell in love.”
He’d heard men talk that way. Dave frequently made love to the engines he repaired, even talking to them as he worked.
Her face pinched. “It wouldn’t be easy to give it back; I just thought …”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do you have a name?”
“Alessi.” She still searched the street as though the car might appear at any moment. Then she shivered.
Leaning his head to the side, Steve took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. She turned, startled. Hazel. Her eyes were hazel, a nice blend with her hair. Not too dramatic. He said, “Did you see the movie Gone in Sixty Seconds?”
She nodded slowly.
“Then you know the odds.”
“But not here.” She pulled the coat closed at the neck, just as she had pulled his robe the night before. “Not in a place like Charity.”
He scoffed. “What do you know about Charity?”
She dropped her gaze to the snowy ground. He hated to disillusion her, but the sooner she cleared the fluff from her head, the better. He stamped his feet and said, “Can we go back inside?”
“I think I’ll just walk around and look. Maybe I’ll see it.”
He crossed his arms over his quickly chilling chest. “If someone stole your car, they didn’t just drive it to Moll’s.”
“I have to do something.” She pulled off the coat and thrust it toward him. Anxiety flashed over her face. Not quite the blind optimist she’d seemed.
He sagged a hip. “At least wear the coat. It’s a pretty good fit.”
She brought it back to her chest. “Thanks.” Then she pulled it on and started off.
He watched her go. Long limbs. His coat was loose in the shoulders and a little bunched at the wrists, but not much. He put a hand through his hair, shivered, and went back inside.
Dave had joined Ben at the table. Steve’s coffee was cold. He dumped it in the sink and brewed a fresh pot. As he waited for the carafe to fill, he leaned on the counter. “So what’s the plan?”
Ben and Dave looked at him.
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Steve spread his hands. “What?”
“We can’t just turn her out.”
“Meaning …” He switched the carafe with his mug, filled it, and switched them back.
Dave said, “She’s got no family. Everything she owned was in her car.”
“Wait a minute.” Steve returned his hips to the counter. “I thought you said she was driving a cherry Mustang.”
“It was a cherry all right.” Ben nodded. “Red convertible, leather seats. Very sweet.”
“Hardly sounds like some indigent waif.” He drank the strong brew, which hadn’t quite mellowed to a full pot flavor.
Dave said, “She told Cooper her uncle gave her the car.”
Steve frowned. “More likely she took it and ran.” That explained her strangeness. He’d probably never see his coat again.
Dave scratched his head. “It had her name on the license plate. L-E-S-S. She said they called her Less.”
Steve said, “Less, not Alessi. How do you know it wasn’t her uncle’s name? Lester or Leslie.” It was hard to imagine two men more gullible than Dave and Ben. This woman had them totally snowed.
Ben stood up. “That would be one s, I think.” He carried his mug to the sink. “I’m going to open the station.”
Steve turned. “We haven’t decided anything.”
“Like what?”
Were they intentionally obtuse? “Like where I’m sleeping tonight.”
“I guess I’ll get after that Toyota.” Dave squeezed in and rinsed his mug. “When did Pete want it by?”
Steve spread his hands. “What is this?”
Ben shrugged. “If you want her out, you’ll have to tell her so yourself.”
“Excuse me, but I’m an equal partner here. I pay you a third of the mortgage, last I looked.”
“That’s true.” Dave nodded. “I guess we could rotate, each of us give up our room for a night until she finds her car.”
“She’s not going to find her car.” Steve slammed his mug, sloshing the coffee over the rim. “And both of you know it.”
Dave and Ben exchanged a glance.
Finally he’d gotten through. “How many missing things have been found lately?”
Ben cleared his throat, but Steve didn’t give him time to comment. “None. Not one. And I for one am not going to sleep in a cot until Cooper comes up with a good excuse to send Miss Alessi on her way.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
He spun, feeling the chill from her eyes more than the wind from the open door. She took off his coat and held it out. He took it, feeling like a heel. “What I mean is …”
“Don’t worry about it.” She turned to Ben. “I talked to Sheriff Roehr. He’s working on it. I was wondering … Would you need some help at the station? I asked at Moll’s. She was doing a brisk breakfast business, but she didn’t need anyone. You don’t either. I can tell. Well …”
“What about you, Steve?” Dave tapped his elbow. “You could use help at the store while you value and post all that new inventory.”
Steve glared. “I’m sure I can break away for the two or three people who might walk in needing books this week.”
“It takes you days to catch up when you’ve done an acquisition.”
“That’s all right.” Alessi pushed her hair back. “Do you think I could take a shower? I might have better luck if I’m not so rumpled.”
“Sure. Of course.” Dave and Ben all but fell over themselves.
“Thanks.”
Steve watched her head to the bathroom, where he had planned to shower. The door closed behind her, and he turned to his companions. “Listen, guys, we need a plan here.” He did not like the looks in their eyes. “She’s suckered you. She’s a … sociopath.” Anyone who could be that sweet and innocent and cheerful in these circumstances had something going.
Ben shook his head. “I’m going to open the station.” He went to the closet, pulled on a coat, and walked out.
Dave pursed his lips. “If I had a cot to sleep on somewhere, I’d sure give her my room.”
“Well, why don’t you?” Steve wiped the spill from the side of his cup and hand.
“Because I don’t have a cot.”
“There’s a couch.” Steve pointed to the navy plaid couch they’d all gone in on last summer.
“I don’t think she’d feel comfortable with that. I sleep in my underwear.”
More information than he needed. “Look, it’s silly to talk as though she’s going to be here any length of time.”
Dave swirled the dish soap around the sink, then ran the hot water until it filled with suds.
“I said she won’t be here any length of time, right?”
“Where is she supposed to go?” Dave set each cup into the water.
“Dave.” Steve drained his mug and brought it to the sink. “I’m not being heartless here. I just think there are better solutions.”
Dave swabbed a cup. “Like what?”
“Like the Moto-Lodge.”
“In Chambers City?” Dave sounded as though he’d suggested the moon.
“Why not?”
Dave said, “How’s she gonna pay? Her purse was in the car.”
“How convenient.” She had it down to an art.
Dave turned. “Have you talked to her? Spent any time with her? She’s real nice, Steve.”
“The best cons are.” He knew that from experience.
Dave rinsed a mug and set it upside down in the dish drainer. “You should let her work in the store a few days.”
“With access to my till? No thanks.” Steve jammed his hands into his pockets.
Dave jabbed a soapy finger toward him. “I don’t like you calling her a thief. She hasn’t asked for anything except just now for a job.”
“And a shower.” He sounded petty.
Dave shook his head and rinsed the last cup. As the sink water glugged out, he wiped his hands on a towel. With one last accusing look, he grabbed a jacket and headed for the garage.
Steve went to the refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs and a loaf of whole-wheat bread. He dug for a stick of butter. He was not going to lose his appetite over this.
Five
A LESSI STEPPED OUT OF THE SHOWER and toweled off. Sheriff Roehr had been friendlier this morning than the night before. He didn’t laugh when she proposed finding a job while she waited for her car to be found. He had tried to convince her to call her uncle, though. Was it pride that kept her from it? No. It was self-preservation, what self they’d left her.
So finding a job was the first order of business. She’d never had a credit card, but all the cash from her bank account had been in her purse; almost a thousand dollars, starting-over money. She’d been especially frugal the last months when Edward Miller hadn’t seemed well. His stroke was not a complete surprise.
Poor old Ed. How was he doing? His sons and daughter had swooped in to care for him and found him a decent facility. Alessi had not been needed. She worked the towel over her hair. Nope. Not needed one bit. She did help close down the store, working long hours clearing inventory at bargain prices. It was like selling pieces of Ed.
And the thought of Dippin’ Dots and Dogs was just too much. She had left Daytona Beach December 4 and made it all the way to Charity. That, it seemed, was as far as she could go, unless she struck out on foot. Hitching a ride with strangers on the highway was not an option. And living with strangers was?
She clutched the rough towel to her throat and breathed in the soapy-scented steam. It was only the one night, and her instincts had said she could trust Dave and Ben. She believed that still. But she was trouble for Steve. Understandable. She’d invaded his space. Story of her life.
Alessi pulled on her clothes, then searched the cabinet. No hair dryer. But then, neither Ben nor Dave had enough hair to worry about it. Dave’s was a black buzzed rim on a bowling ball head, and Ben’s was that wispy brown scarecrow hair. If Steve had a blow dryer, he probably ke
pt it under lock and key.
No, that was unfair. She had to see things from his perspective. She worked the comb through her hair again. It would take an hour to air dry. Or freeze into witch hair—maybe she could scare up a job. At least she was clean. She dressed and went out.
The smell of eggs and buttery toast made her stomach clutch up like a fist. She was a morning eater as a rule, though the meal at Moll’s had been much more than she usually had in the evening. She’d intended to head right out to continue her job search, but Steve turned from the stove.
“You want some eggs?”
She hesitated.
“Or don’t you eat cholesterol?” He looked her over. “Tofu and sprouts more your style?”
“I eat anything.” Beggars could not be choosers. And she knew what health food cost from stocking the shelves with her mother.
“Wouldn’t know it to look at you.”
“Well, I’m from Anorexia Beach. No one eats much when you live in bikinis.”
He shot her a glance. “One egg or two?”
“Two. My bikini was in my car.”
He almost smiled. “Toast?”
“Just one, thanks. Do you have any juice?”
“In the refrigerator.”
She searched the shelves and found a carton of orange.
“Pour me a glass, too, will you?” Steve pointed to the cabinet that held glasses. At least he was no longer growling.
She filled two glasses and set them on the table. He flipped her eggs. Their edges were crispy brown from all the butter in the skillet. A moment later, he slid the eggs and butter over the slice of toast. Her mouth watered. He carried both plates to the table, and she followed.
Laying the paper napkin in her lap, Alessi said, “My mother had this grace she used to say. ‘Thank you for this food, O Lord. Make this meal a feast, if only in our minds.’”
Steve scrutinized her. Didn’t he believe in grace?
She took up her fork and looked down at her plate. “Of course, this is a feast already.”
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