Better Than the Best

by Amabel Daniels

  “Give me a chance,” he whispered playfully.

  “Nothing doing.”

  “Gimme one good reason why.”

  There were plenty but she wanted to sting him. “You have bad breath.”

  He grimaced and gently shoved her back.

  She bit back a smile, then paid attention to the car once Clay resumed working.

  “How exactly did Matt die?” Kelly asked. They fell quiet at her question.

  Randy spoke first after gazing to the sky for a moment. “Car bomb. Afghanistan.”

  “He must have been a great guy.”

  “He was.” Randy rubbed the back of his neck. “He was my cousin. Delores married Bruce and they had Matt. He was two years younger than Will. And my mom is Bruce’s sister. So Matt was my cousin and Will was kind of my cousin.”

  She shook her head, but thought she had the hang of Randy’s ancestry lesson. “There isn’t a lot of incest and stuff down here, is there?”

  They sneered.

  Not only did Will lose his best friend, he lost his only sibling, too. No wonder he’s an ogre. She hugged herself, not wanting to imagine how someone could stomach the pain of losing a sibling.

  They stood in an awkward silence in the muggy garage. Clay wiped his hands and Randy stepped away to answer his phone. From the corner of her eye, Kelly caught the blur of Will running like hell was loose. For him, it probably was.

  “Hey.” She elbowed Clay as he stepped out on the sidewalk for a break. He loped his arm around her shoulders.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Stop calling me baby.” She punched his stomach and he winced. “He’s a drunk?” She pointed to Will running further from town.

  “Who?”

  “The guy who’s always running. That’s Will?”

  Clay smirked with a strange expression. “You asked me before. Yeah. He’s the local drunk now. We tried to help him after he got back, but he pushed us away. He used to be one of my best friends. But there’s no way to get in his head now.”

  She wasn’t convinced. Yeah, he was rough around the edges, but he had to be hurting. She imagined how Clay would react to not having a mother, losing his best friend and brother. Probably bury his sorrows in a stranger’s vagina.

  If she lost one of her brothers, she’d probably be running on the beach too. With that kind of loss…she wouldn’t want Heather trying to get in her head. She’d be trying to escape it herself.

  “And he’s a drunk,” she said.

  “Yeah. He’s always got a bottle around. He’s made Elmer’s his second home.”

  Kelly slanted her brow. The residual lagging drag of alcohol intoxication would put him at a jogging pace, not record-setting Olympian speed. Even as he widened his distance from town, she could sense the furious power of his body, tearing strides down the beach. In a hoodie in the summer sun.

  Clay tugged her closer, tearing her attention from Will’s routine.

  “Why do you always have to invade my personal space?”

  “You always look so upset.”

  She flashed him her best false peppy smile.

  “Or pissed.”

  She nodded.

  “You don’t like hugs?” He dug his finger into her side, tickling her. Kelly fought the smile at her mouth.

  “You smell like exhaust.” She hugged him back.

  “You smell like river water.”

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Kelly spun her head to the side where the feminine demand had sounded from. Clay sighed against her, not releasing her.

  “Hey Daisy,” Clay said.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” she repeated.

  Kelly slid out of the hug. She wasn’t going to let some country bumpkin tell her who she could be friends with. At the same time, she didn’t want to welcome crazy wrath. Jaycee had some kind of a history of violence and Kelly didn’t need Daisy to sic her friend on her.

  Holding Clay’s hand, she pulled him close to Daisy. She thrust his left hand up to the woman’s face. “No ring, Daisy. No ring,” Kelly said.

  “So you want her now?” Daisy demanded of Clay.

  “No. We’re friends, Daisy.”

  “Friends my ass.” She snorted.

  “Daisy, we never said we were exclusive. We talked about this when you came back in town, ‘member?” Clay rubbed his palms over his face.

  “So you want her now? She didn’t even know how to fuck her husband!” Daisy trilled with a temper-fueled jealousy.

  Kelly looked to the sky and wished Will had a jinrikisha to get her away from the meddling minds downtown. Her divorce wasn’t any of Daisy’s business. And even if she could lower her standards and seek a quickie with Clay, it still wouldn’t be any of Daisy’s business. The catty remark struck a nerve, but instead of feeling pissed at Daisy, Kelly felt pissed at herself, feeling the weight of doubt and low self-esteem sinking her down to the cracked cement of the sidewalk.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Daisy?” Clay lost his temper. “It’s not like that. We’re only friends, goddammit!”

  Kelly didn’t even bother to open her mouth. She walked back for the kayak hut to get in her SUV and head home. Defending herself to Daisy wasn’t important. She’d rather extract herself from the situation.

  “Yeah, you walk away. That’s it. You stay away from him,” Daisy’s cocky threats called from across the street.

  Working her jaw, Kelly stopped mid-step and counted to ten. Nope, no patience. Sometimes she saw the merit in turning the other cheek, but Clay was her neighbor and she wasn’t going to have Daisy assuming she was stealing her man.

  Kelly kept her face neutral and cracked her knuckles as she crossed the street again.

  “Didn’t you hear me, big-city bitch?” Daisy crossed her arms like a guard in front of Clay.

  “Daisy—” Clay pulled her arm in restraint, but she slapped him off. She took two steps toward Kelly, arms swinging like she was readying for a fight. With the same confidence as she had had to wrestle drugged or mental patients in Atlanta, Kelly took hold of her, spun her, and locked her in a tight head lock.

  “What the fuck?” Daisy gasped and struggled to claw at Kelly’s arms. Pedestrians and window-shoppers clustered around the commotion.

  “I heard you, Daisy. Now shut up and listen to me. It’s none of your business who I sleep with. If I ever want him, you’ll know the moment I do, because I don’t share. In the meantime, pay attention and back the fuck off. He’s my damn neighbor.” She held her for a moment more. “Got it?”

  When Daisy didn’t answer, Kelly tightened her grip. “I said, do you understand me?”

  “Whatever.” Daisy wriggled and Kelly released her.

  Daisy rubbed her neck and mumbled to herself.

  Kelly whistled for Eddie, then called back as she walked away, “Wasn’t the coffee bar guy satisfying enough?”

  “Shut the hell up!” Daisy said.

  Clay wasn’t happy either. “Brent? You’re fucking him, too?”

  “She’s making it up.”

  Kelly shook her head as she walked further away. “You only had the whole beach to witness at lunchtime. Get a room next time if it’s not for public knowledge.”

  Chapter 10

  After she pulled the gloves inside-out, Emily threw the last bit of evidence into the fire. She stood back, cracking the kinks out of her neck as the flames hissed, erasing the decayed flesh of the identity’s body.

  The Buick’s trunk reeked of the sweetly sour funk of death. It had been a challenge to find the time and opportunity to dispose of the corpse. No quick and easy stash in the freezer like she had done to Forty.

  Emily stoked the fire as she rehashed the details of her thwarted plans. She’d nearly had Thirty-Nine. Then Kelly threw in the complication of the other daughter. And then Thirty-Nine had to die on her.

  “Fucking bitch,” Emily muttered.

  Bent on revenge, Emily had planned and researched how to get bac
k at Kelly with Forty. But Forty had brought no true revenge because Emily had failed to keep Forty. And because of that failure, Forty-One was going to be an unprecedented accomplishment. Never before had Emily needed to steal from the same person twice.

  A flame slid over the neck of the woman on the ground. Emily cocked her head and crouched closer, remembering the details of her last kill. Forty had lasted only seconds after she cracked the neck. The crunch so definite and satisfying.

  Emily was testing her patience, controlling herself, to let Kelly make the move. And as soon as she did, as soon as Forty-One came along, Emily was going to teach Kelly a very important lesson.

  She was the best. Everyone always chose her. Always.

  ***

  Between running Burns’ kayak hut and helping Alan at the bowling alley, Kelly was happily preoccupied and didn’t brood as often. Only when she was alone at night. Or when she saw pairs like the old eighty-five-year-old couple who came in every Friday night for a pizza, holding hands and smiling at each other. Senile or still in love, Kelly hoped for the latter.

  Having grown up with four older brothers and no mom, Kelly was no stranger to the close proximity of men. Almost every night, she would try to ignore the sounds of Clay’s love life through the oh-so-thin walls. Content with the influx of vacationers who didn’t mind an out-of-town romp in the bed, he had decreased his pointless flirting. But his constant presence was still aggravating.

  One morning as she let Eddie out to pee before she went to the kayak hut, Clay exited his apartment. Tiptoeing in his boxers, he clutched his clothes in his arms and teethed his lower lip as he creaked his door shut.

  Kelly sipped coffee as she stood at the screen door of the hallway which divided the townhouse. She paid no further attention to her neighbor as she absentmindedly waited for the dog to find a spot. Randy had given her permission to cut out a dog door, but as finicky as Will had reacted to the porch work, Kelly wondered if he would care.

  Then again, Burns hadn’t cared if she brought the mutt to the kayak hut in the day. Eddie was mostly obedient after all. Catch was, Eddie couldn’t exactly fit in at Alan’s. Sometimes Clay would watch the dog at the garage and then take him back to the townhouse while she worked nights at the bowling alley. She had even caught glimpses of Will petting Eddie in between jobs. There was hope, she supposed, that even a sad, mad, supposedly suicidal jerk could still enjoy a dog’s company. Maybe he was human after all.

  “Morning.” She yawned.

  “Shhh.” Clay tiptoed closer and cast a glance back at his door. “I need you to take me to work.”

  She raised her brows at him, then checked through the screen door. His ancient sans muffler truck was parked in the driveway.

  “She’ll wake up at the sound of my truck starting.”

  “For the love of God.” Her brain was slow to react to the infusion of caffeine. Mornings were not her best time. And he bobbled between annoying and amusing.

  “Shhh. Come on.”

  She relented with a shake of her head and got ready for work. On the way into town, Clay explained his dilemma. Melissa, last night’s conquest, was Daisy’s out-of town stepsister who was visiting on a college break. Kelly had already gathered Daisy was still a semi-regular between his sheets. Melissa, despite her status as a vacationer, had seemed convinced she was the one and only. For a quick escape, there was good old Kelly for the rescue.

  “You’re pathetic,” she muttered as she stopped on Main in front of the garage.

  “Pick me up at eight?”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’ve got some things to catch up on at the garage and you’ll be getting done at Alan’s by then, won’t you?”

  “You owe me.” Who was she kidding? It wasn’t like she had anything better to do.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He pecked a chaste kiss on her forehead.

  “You’d find another gullible woman to be at your beck and call,” she said dryly.

  “Thought we were friends. You’re not gullible. If you were, I wouldn’t have to work this hard to get into your pants.” He grinned like the cocky idiot he was and went inside.

  After her shift at the kayak hut, then a shift at the bowling alley, Kelly was tired on her feet when Clay called.

  “You said eight.” She tallied the register at Alan’s and propped the phone on her shoulder.

  “I know. Bring me the usual. Put it on the tab for the garage.”

  “I’m ringing out the register now. You’re lucky. What’s the magic word?”

  “Please, sugar honey baby sexy mama?”

  “You’re pathetic.” Or I am. She hated the thought she might really be a pushover. But he did watch Eddie for her. And he promised to someday check out the rattle in her SUV. When she hung up and turned around, Jaycee gave her a dubious look. Another woman-hater.

  It hadn’t taken long after her official move into the townhouse for many of the women in Churchston to detest her. More so, detest her nearness to the town’s stud. It wasn’t a foreign feeling. Always preferring the company of males over females, Kelly had learned long ago girls don’t trust the girl with guy friends.

  “Alan!” The clash of bowling balls striking pins roared over her voice. She took a deep breath to holler to the old man. “I need a pizza sub and a ham grinder for the garage.” Waiting at the counter adjacent to the bar, Kelly stretched her back.

  “I’m out of here in a few minutes. Anything else you want me to do?”

  At no reply, Kelly finished checking the cash register, ignoring Jaycee. After the night Kelly had told Jaycee she wasn’t leaving Alan, Jaycee sulked like a grudging cat. Kelly wasn’t enamored with her job of setting pins and delivering subs for Alan. It certainly wasn’t out of long-term career ambitions she had wanted to keep the job. She hadn’t trusted the woman to refrain from taking advantage of Alan. Kelly had a soft spot for lonely old men, likely due to the sadness she had always felt for her dad who hadn’t remarried until recently. She avoided the bartender as much as she could, which wasn’t too difficult as the Jerry Springer candidate occupied the space behind the bar for the most part.

  “Ya know Daisy’s engaged to him.” Jaycee’s sneer broke the peace. Her dyed black hair draped like a screen covering her smoky caked eyes and barely contained cleavage. No one would cheat on her. She was the definition of an eager bedtime partner.

  “Who?”

  “Clay.”

  Kelly was surprised she didn’t actually hear a ‘duh’, too. “Well, congrats to them.” It was a threat. A warning to back off from Clay. And it warranted a laugh. For as much as Churchston spread assumptions and gossip, it was ironic they neglected to accept the reality that Kelly was, apparently, the first female to turn down his offer of sexual ecstasy.

  At the garage, a fuzzy-haired frantic redhead screamed at Clay in the middle bay. She either had a perm from hell, or her tresses didn’t agree with the South Carolina humidity. Kelly entered with the subs and raised her brows at the chaos. Blues raged from the radio and Kelly stepped over the tires and oil pans to lean against the workbench.

  “You told me you loved me!” the redhead shrieked.

  “Honey, I do love you.” Clay held his hands in surrender.

  “Fucking liar! Don’t lie to me.”

  “Holy hell, it’s Medusa PMS-ing,” Kelly mumbled, assuming the snaky redhead had to be the naïve Melissa. How long is this going to take? Should I leave? If Clay took the risk to two-time, he could figure his way out of it and how to get home. But she didn’t have a hard heart to leave him stranded. She sighed with patience.

  “Clay!” Kelly turned her head to the left at an almost familiar angry rumble. “Get the hell over here and help me with this!”

  “Hang on. Baby, calm down.” Clay tried to step away.

  “I’m not going to calm down, you mother fucking liar. You lied to me. Why’d you lie to me?”

  “Baby, I didn’t lie—” />
  “Clay!”

  Kelly rolled her eyes and crouched down to tousle Eddie’s ears and hug him close. “Why did he lie to Medusa Melissa? Because she’s a crazy bitch, that’s why.”

  “Clay!”

  “I’m coming.” Medusa had Clay backed up against the wall and he gave Kelly an expression of desperation. “Can you give him a hand?”

  Kelly groaned and walked to the car where the voice came from. Grease-stained jean-clad legs stuck out from underneath.

  “What do you want?” she asked the mechanic.

  “Hold the radiator hoses up,” the voice commanded from below. Kelly reached for them.

  “No. Not those. The radiator hoses.”

  She made a face to herself and searched again. Radiator. Hoses. Ah ha. She held them out of the way. Clay and Medusa were arguing at the caliber of a domestic dispute in the worst neighborhoods of Atlanta, and Kelly considered intervening. Medusa was one angry lady.

  “Go to the bench and get some zip ties.”

  Kelly obeyed and then the mechanic instructed her to tie hoses out of the way.

  “Now go to the wall and hit the green button.”

  She did and the car rose. From below the lift, the man stood up, still under the car, and turned to face her.

  “Mr. Landlord. What a pleasant surprise.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Hold this out of the way.” He wiggled a chuck of metal.

  Kelly came close and held it to the side. She had to stand nearly on her tiptoes. “Can’t say please?”

  “I can but I didn’t. Missed my chance. What the hell are you doing here?” He resumed unscrewing bolts, wincing at the tight fit.

  She scowled right back at him. “I brought the subs.”

  “He’s got you sleeping with him, bringing him food. Why are you even renting the apartment? You could be his resident bitch.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I’m not sleeping with him and I’ll never be anyone’s resident bitch. I deliver for Alan!”

  Will glanced down at her as she fidgeted to stand tall enough to hold the harness above her head and out of his way. The dried pizza stains on her chest stretched against her breast and she was acutely aware she was sticking her girls out. She frowned and wished he’d hurry up because Clay’s banshee screamed even louder in the next bay.