Slightly Off Balance

by Kaylie Hunter

  Reel shrugged, tossing his napkin onto his plate. “I think it’s the job I just finished. Kelsey, the woman I was talking about, she’s been through some really bad shit. And yet she’s living her life, making the best of it. I want to be more like that. I want to be able to set the work aside and enjoy myself.”

  “Wow. How enlightening.”

  “Don’t get too excited. I like being an ass too.”

  The front door opened, and Rod and Bart stepped inside. I waved at them, but when Rod saw me, he looked at Reel and scurried back out the door.

  “Why did Rod have a swollen eye?” I asked.

  “Must have walked into a door,” Reel chuckled, drinking the last of his beer before standing up and tossing some money on the table.

  “That’s too much,” I said, looking at the money.

  “It’s fine,” he said, holding his hand out to help me out of the booth. “Tansey works hard and could use the cash.”

  “In that case, what do you think about buying some of her paintings for your house? They’re really good.”

  “Sure,” he shrugged. “I don’t care what they look like. I just need something on the walls.”

  I told Tansey we were going upstairs to check her inventory, and we exited through the back door. Climbing the exterior stairs, I was pulling my keys from my purse, when I missed the step and started to take a nose dive. With my body inches away from smacking into the stairs, Reel caught me around the waist, pivoting me around and pulling me against his chest. My hands instinctively braced against his broad shoulders as I looked up into his face.

  “You okay?” he whispered. He placed his free hand on the side of my head, stroking his thumb across my cheek.

  It took me a moment to process his question. And even then I wasn’t sure whether my voice would hold, so I merely nodded as I pushed away from him, gaining only a few desperate inches of space between us.

  When his eyes scanned down my body, though, they stopped at my chest. A curious look crossed his face, and his hand moved toward my cleavage. I looked down to see the note that Uncle Mike had wrote for me was half-jostled from its lacy hiding place. Reel jerked it free and opened it with one hand, the other still holding my waist. He grinned when he read it.

  “‘Show them what you’re made of,’” Reel read aloud. “And what are you made of Deanna?”

  I released the grip on his shoulders and stepped back, handing him the keys. “Emotionally? Or physically?” I asked. “Physically, I think I’m made mostly of cookies and donuts.”

  “I bet you taste like sugar, too,” Reel said, taking the keys from me and unlocking the door. He stepped inside the apartment, holding the door open for me. “Damn. This place is nice,” Reel whistled as he looked around.

  I made a beeline for the paintings on the far wall, hoping he wouldn’t notice how blistering red my cheeks were from his sugar comment. “Uncle Mike helped Tansey fix it up. She did all the design work and decorating. You should have asked her to help you furnish your house. She has an eye for it.”

  “I think you’re doing a great job,” he said, as he joined me in front of several paintings leaning against the wall.

  “I know there are a few paintings here that would go great with those curtains,” I said, pulling the paintings out. “Tansey can get a discount on framing them too.”

  I pulled out several that I liked, and Reel nodded his approval. He leaned over and picked up a small oil painting. It was a portrait of me; my face was dusted with a layer of flour. Over the years, I’d been Tansey’s guinea pig more times than I could count.

  “She’s good,” Reel said, admiring the painting. “She even captured how your eyes dance when you’re excited.”

  “My eyes don’t dance,” I laughed, finding another picture that I thought would look nice in a kitchen. “You can negotiate the price with Tansey later. She’s pretty reasonable, though.” I moved the pictures we selected to the far wall.

  “What does she do with all these?”

  “She sells some at local craft fairs. And there’s a gallery in Cooper City that sells some.”

  “Does she have more?”

  “The ones that don’t sell are in a cedar storage room at Uncle Mike’s,” I nodded.

  “I might know some people who would buy these,” Reel said, studying another painting.

  “She’d appreciate the referrals. There’s not enough people buying original paintings anymore.”

  Reel wasn’t listening to me. He had pulled out his cell phone and taken several pictures of the paintings and sent them to someone. Within minutes, his phone beeped, and he looked back at the screen and smiled.

  “Let’s go,” he said, turning toward the door.

  I realized he set the portrait of me along the wrong wall, and I moved it back over to the for-sale pile, before hurrying to catch up with him.

  Back downstairs, Reel told Tansey that he’d track her down the next day to get a price on the paintings and to arrange for them to be framed. He also let her know that he knew someone who might be interested in buying more. Tansey gave me a high-five and told me that she’d be sure to get my commission ready. I followed Reel out the front door to the truck.

  “You’d never charge Tansey a dime for a commission. So what was that all about?”

  “She buys most people a drink at the bar for referrals, but since I seldom drink, I get Snickers candy bars.”

  Reel snorted and opened the passenger door, placing his hand on my lower back as I climbed up into the truck. He tucked my skirt to my thigh before closing the door. A minute later he swung into the driver’s seat.

  “Do you still have time to go furniture shopping?”

  “If we’re back by five,” I nodded. “Uncle Mike’s going to take a look at my car for me.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Reel turned his head and glared down at me, waiting for more information.

  “Something’s wrong with the gas pedal,” I sighed, throwing my hands up. “It kept wanting to speed up this morning.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Well, that’s what it was doing. I had to shut the car off and coast down the street.”

  He stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief. Connecting his cell phone to the docking station in his truck, he commanded the phone to call Rod.

  Rod was a volunteer firefighter part of the week, but by trade, he was the town’s only real mechanic. Sure, there were others who knew enough to work on their own cars, but if it was anything serious, it was up to Rod to fix it.

  “What do you want?” Rod answered.

  “Send a tow truck over to pick up Tweedle’s car. Have the accelerator checked.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “The pedal was sticking,” Reel answered, looking over at me.

  “What?”

  “Just check it out.”

  “I’ll send Bart over now. I can take a look at it this afternoon.”

  “Send me the bill,” Reel said, before disconnecting the line.

  “I can’t let you pay for my car repairs.”

  “Sure you can. But Rod won’t charge me. He owes me a favor. And I owe you a favor, since you're helping me with this shopping shit. So it all becomes one big barter circle.”

  “I’ll text Uncle Mike and let him know. He’ll be happy that he doesn’t have to deal with it. He was working a twelve-hour shift today.”

  “I noticed extra cars on patrol last night. Something going on?”

  “The old Burgess house had a break-in. Someone was living there until they were spooked and ran off. And the party store out on Highway 6 was robbed after hours.”

  “High school kids?”

  “No clue. Uncle Mike doesn’t like to share the details. He just signed up for more hours and keeps calling us girls regularly to check in.”

  “Hmm. I’ll get with him and see whether
I can help. Usually my dad is the biggest trouble that this town has to deal with.”

  “Legally, yes. Trouble in general—my mother trumps Everett any day of the week.”

  As he drove, Reel reached behind my seat, pulling a bottle of water out of a cooler. He handed it to me, and I uncapped it, handing it back.

  “What did your mother say about what happened at the carnival?” he asked, before taking a drink.

  “That I’m a sexual deviant in need of therapy.”

  Reel spewed water all over the dash.

  “What?” he laughed.

  I just grinned.

  Chapter Six

  The furniture store was fun but somewhat depressing. Reel ended up picking out the couch I had had my eye on for months. He told me that I could visit it anytime I wanted. I slugged him in the shoulder before moving on to dining room furniture. It only took an hour to pick out the main furnishings.

  “Are you poor yet?” I asked as he paid the large bill.

  “No. Not even close,” Reel said, tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

  “Do the bedrooms have wood flooring too?”

  “Whole house,” Reel nodded.

  I bit my lower lip, thinking.

  “Why?”

  “Well, you might want some rugs. The floor might get cold. I personally hate getting out of bed and putting my feet on cold floors.”

  Reel tipped his head back, looking painfully at the ceiling.

  “Never mind.”

  “No, it’s a good idea,” he said, shaking off whatever thoughts he was having. “Where do we buy rugs?”

  “There’s a carpet store at the end of the block. We can walk there. The owner is a friend of mine.”

  “How do you know the owner?” Reel asked, opening the door for me.

  After he followed me out the door, Reel reached down and held my hand. He must have thought of me still as a little girl, worried I’d run into traffic. Annoyed, I pulled my hand back.

  “My mother redecorates every year, remember? I got dragged around for years being told I had terrible taste.”

  “I think you have great taste. Then again, I have no idea how everything will look when it’s put together.”

  “You’re going to let me see it, right? I mean, so I know how it turns out?”

  “I was counting on you to tell me where everything goes,” he grinned at me.

  Phil Farley was the owner of the carpet store and one of my favorite people. We both loved to dicker on pricing, and we both viewed it as a serious sport to be mastered. After selecting the rugs that I thought would look the best with the furnishings, I crossed my arms and stared at Phil who stood waiting on the other side of the room. He took his cue and walked over, crossing his arms in front of him.

  “Two hundred for the three rugs,” I said.

  “Each?” he laughed.

  “Together.”

  “Not even close, sweetheart. That’s a grand worth of rugs.”

  “That’s fine,” Reel said, pulling out is wallet.

  Phil and I both glared at Reel.

  “Or not,” Reel sighed.

  “Two-fifty.”

  “Seven and a half.”

  Reel groaned, rubbing a hand down his forehead. I laughed and decided to end the deal early.

  “Four and a quarter. Final offer.”

  “Four and a quarter and a kiss on the cheek.” Phil glared down at me.

  I stepped up on my tippy toes to kiss Phil’s cheek.

  “Sold,” Phil smiled, giving me a hug. “Haven’t seen you around lately. How have you been, sweetheart?”

  “Good. My friend Reel just bought a house. I haven’t seen it yet, so I’m winging it. If the living room rug is too big, can he bring it back for an exchange?”

  “Sure. Sure. I’ll make sure he gets your special pricing.”

  “Thanks,” I grinned.

  “Can I pay now?” Reel asked.

  Phil and I both laughed as Reel followed us to the checkout counter.

  “Are we done?” Reel asked, escorting me out of the store, once again grabbing my hand.

  “Sure,” I answered, pulling my hand away again. Damn it, I’m not a kid anymore. Ugh.

  Reel smirked but didn’t look down at me. Instead he was monitoring anyone who walked near us or drove by.

  “At this point we need everything to be put together before we can work on lamps, knickknacks, and miscellaneous. You’ll also need kitchen utensils and more dishes, but Aunt Carol and I have boxes of extra stuff from garage sales. We’ll sort some items out for you.”

  Something that I’d said made Reel grin, but he kept his focus on our surroundings. I watched his eyes travel down the block, up the building windows, and then across the street.

  “Habit?” I asked, looking at him.

  A quick nod was his only answer before he opened the door to his truck and helped me climb inside.

  Reel had left his phone inside the truck, and it was indicating that he had a voicemail message. He started the truck to get the air conditioning going before he played the message on speaker.

  “Reel, get home. Something’s up with Tweedle’s car,” Rod said on the message. “I called Mike to let him know. He wants you to take Tweedle to his house.”

  “What’s that all about?”

  Reel pushed the button to delete the message and didn’t answer. His eyes swept a full 360-view before he put the truck in reverse and pulled out. As he put the truck in forward gear and drove away, his eyes continued to sweep the area.

  “Reel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why’d you get so quiet? And, why are you looking around so much?”

  “Rod didn’t say what was wrong with your car. Instead he said he called Mike, which means he didn’t like what he found.”

  “As in what? Like someone took it for a joyride?”

  “No. As in someone tampered with it.”

  “No way,” I laughed, but I wasn’t finding the thought very funny. “You’ve been working security too long. Who’d mess with my car?”

  “I don’t know. Yet.” He glanced over at me, and I saw the cold distant glare that scared even me. I had seen that look before, though it had been many years. It was the same look he had worn the day he beat my homecoming date to a bloody pulp when I was only sixteen. And while I had been ready to punch my date myself just before Reel had showed up out of nowhere, the way his eyes turned to rage was a memory I would never forget.

  “You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

  Reel reached out and held my hand. “You’re safe. This is the shit I’m good at,” he said, pulling my hand up and kissing my knuckles. His face didn’t soften with the gentle words, though.

  “What about Tansey?”

  Reel commanded the phone to call Rod.

  “Are you back in town?” Rod answered after only one ring.

  “Twenty minutes away. Anybody have eyes on Tansey?”

  “I’m at The Bar. She’s getting her purse, and then I’ll drive her to Mike’s.”

  “Be there soon.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m not staying here,” I said for the fourth time.

  “She can stay with me,” Reel said.

  “At your dad’s house? No way,” Uncle Mike shook his head.

  “I bought a house,” Reel answered.

  “The one that doesn’t have furniture?” I asked.

  “She’s staying here,” Uncle Mike said.

  “She’ll be safer with me,” Reel said.

  “Are you saying I can’t protect my own damn niece?” Uncle Mike snapped.

  “These are great paintings,” Rod said, staring at one of Tansey’s paintings hanging in the dining room.

  I looked at Tansey, and she nodded, following me into the kitchen. Aunt Carol passed us our purses as we walked out the back door and started across the yard. My rental house was the next block over, and three houses down.

  Tansey relocked the door after w
e entered. We both sighed. Home sweet home.

  “So what’s really going on?” Tansey asked.

  We both tossed our purses on the entryway counter and moved into the kitchen. I got a large mixing bowl down as Tansey grabbed my measuring cups and the flour.

  “I have no idea. But I think it’s worse than they know.”

  “Spill. What don’t they know?”

  I liked to bake when I was stressed. Tansey settled onto a bar stool and waited for me to mix up cake batter, giving me time to collect my thoughts.

  “I don’t think the car was the first time someone tried to hurt me,” I shrugged, pouring the batter into a pan. I set the oven temperature while letting the batter settle. Then I washed the bowl to reuse it.

  “The Ferris wheel?” Tansey asked.

  “Maybe,” I shrugged. “I thought it odd that the gate just popped open. I mean, have you ever heard of such a thing?”

  “No. But how would anyone know which seat you would be in?”

  “It had to have been the carny that was latching the seat gates.”

  “Do you remember what he looked like?”

  “No. It’s a total blank. I tried to remember, but when I was climbing into the seat, I was distracted by Sally Frasier getting groped by Buck Peaton.”

  “Eww.”

  “Right? I was so repulsed I couldn’t look away.”

  Tansey shuddered and then shook her head. “It’s a big stretch that someone would get a job working at a carnival and then hope that he had the opportunity to get close to you. How would he even know you’d be there?”

  “Everyone knew I’d be there,” I shrugged. “It was the talk of the town. Six o’clock on opening day of the carnival, remember?”

  “So you think it’s someone we know?”

  “It could have been someone who just overheard the gossip.”

  Every year on my birthday, a dozen roses were delivered. The card never had a name but always promised that someday he’d meet me at the carnival. I tried to make it easier on my anonymous suitor. Every year, I went to the carnival on opening night and rode the Ferris wheel. Except my suitor never showed. Years went by. And, every year the same delivery arrived with the same future promise.