by Ray, Marika
Feeling better already, I opened my eyes. My jaw dropped open and the first stirrings of a headache hit that spot between my two eyebrows.
Standing outside my safe—cue the sarcasm—business were two men. One wore the standard-issue gray cotton pants they gave inmates at the prison who had lost their own pants for one reason or another you usually didn’t want to know about. The other had a pair of shorts on Daisy Duke would have been jealous of. Not the dark, curly leg hair, though. That was his own unique contribution to the fashion ensemble.
“Well, double shit.”
9
Bain
I was speechless.
So many veiled threats left and right in this conversation I wasn’t sure which way was up. All I knew was I wanted out.
After a not-so-friendly whack on the back, the mayor wandered off to spread more false cheer and Lucille stormed off in a surprisingly sexy march. Between the stomping, the heels, and the wool skirt, her hips got a rhythm that drew my eyes despite myself. Then I got to watch it all from the front when she reversed directions and walked past me to the coffee shop again. The woman made absolutely no sense.
And staring at her ass like that? Completely fucking psycho.
I needed to get the hell out of there before my day got any worse.
The same old lady from the other day walked right in front of me as I went to take a step toward my truck, nearly cutting me off and making me spill my coffee again. More little hairs flew up in the air between us, making me wonder what she did in her free time to attract so much animal hair to litter it about as she walked.
“Hmm.” She drew the “m” out, much to my irritation and confusion. Her eyes twinkled, making my stomach drop for the third time that morning. That look always meant trouble, especially aimed at me.
“Ma’am.” I nodded politely and skirted around her. I couldn’t handle another crazy woman this morning. I wasn’t too proud to nearly run full out, just to get to the safety of my truck.
The engine roared to life as I slammed the door closed. I wished I could roar right along with it. Might get a few concerned looks from my fellow Auburn Hill citizens, though, so I held it in. At this rate, all this pent-up frustration without a healthy outlet might cause a hernia or a burst blood vessel. Maybe I should take up running. I pulled out into the lane carefully and headed to work, pondering the likelihood of a decent gym here in town.
There’d been other dares my brother and I had given each other that led to some trouble. Some skated the line of the law, some involved other people who didn’t appreciate the involvement, but mostly they were just good fun meant to stretch the limits of our comfort zone. But this latest one? Pain in my goddamn ass.
I just wanted a peaceful Saturday to get some work done at the prison after grabbing the bagel and coffee I’d become addicted to. They must be putting some gold flakes left over from the Gold Rush in the coffee or something. Tasted ten thousand times better than that chain who shall not be named on every corner in the Bay Area.
But then Miss Priss had to come along in her ruffled, high-neck, collared blouse and get in my face. And spill my precious coffee. You know, if she couldn’t walk properly in those heels, she should stick to flats and keep the rest of us safe from second-degree burns. I hoped her footwear choices gave her bunions like my grandma.
The mayor was breathing down my neck like I didn’t grasp the serious nature of the situation when an inmate escaped. Trust me. Every freaking prison cell now locked like we were Fort Knox and had Hitler himself as our guest. I wasn’t given my first position as warden to screw things up.
The only thing I screwed up was ever visiting Miss Eureka’s clinic. The woman was devious. She’d boldly asked if I’d gotten her blackmail email, hinted at things I’d rather keep quiet about in front of the mayor, and just assumed I would fall in line.
Oh, hell no. I hadn’t responded to her email because she was like a bee. Annoying, but basically harmless if you just left it alone.
Apparently I’d read her wrong.
I’d have to ramp up my defense. Simply ignoring her wasn’t going to work.
Time for war.
* * *
I made a quick pit stop on the outskirts of town, grabbing a bag of ammunition and a few other items in my newly fledged war. It was just what I needed to turn my morning around. I had a plan. A dang good one. Smiling and whistling a tune, I headed back to my truck and drove out to the prison.
I needed to call my brother shortly. He’d be expecting a dare and I needed to get to thinking of a good one. Based on how much trouble his dare gave me, it would have to be a doozy. If I wasn’t driving, I would have rubbed my hands together in devilish glee. Nothing I liked better than stirring up mayhem and Miss Eureka had just given me the reason to unleash some shenanigans. Hoped she was prepared for it.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, seeing a situation I couldn’t ignore. “Really, Universe? What did I ever do to you?”
Just shy of the prison, I saw Miss Eureka standing outside her shop, hands on her hips while she lit into two men. Her feet were planted wide and her face was turning an interesting shade of red. I wanted to look at her longer just to see the fire in her eyes and what shade they turned when she was angered, but I had bigger problems.
The two guys on her doorstep?
One was the inmate scheduled to be released this morning.
She told me inmates kept stopping in to give a sample and I hadn’t really listened. I mean, come on. One guy stopping by did not a problem make.
But two in the span of a couple days?
That was definitely the start of a problem.
And these two didn’t exactly give off friendly airs. The one guy had been in jail two weeks prior to transferring to our prison before finally getting his bail money set with the courts. He was a can of Coke all shaken up and ready to explode.
I swung my truck into the lot and climbed out, slowing myself down to make it appear I had all the time in the world, when what I really wanted to do was step in and get them the hell away from Miss Eureka. My protective streak was as wide as it was long.
“Mornin’, gentlemen. What’s going on here?” I put a smile I didn’t feel in my greeting.
Three heads swiveled in my direction, the male ones standing taller when they saw me, the female one barely giving me a second of her attention.
“We’re just looking to do our service to the community here,” the leader of the two spoke. I finally gave him a good once-over and my eyeballs nearly fell out of my head. The guy had on a fitted tee and short shorts. Now I wasn’t into all the manscaping business—a man was made to have hair, for God’s sake—but this guy took it to the next level. I wouldn’t have been surprised if that leg hair was long enough to braid.
I cleared my throat and addressed the problem at hand.
“So, why are we all standing outside?”
“I’ve told them repeatedly I don’t have any appointments available,” Miss Eureka finally spoke, directing her statement to the two men.
“Come on. There’s no one in there!” The hairy guy turned to her and I got an eyeful from the back. I frowned, wondering if that’s what happened to all asses after a certain age. Maybe I really should take up running. I didn’t want my own backside dragging ass like that.
“This here is a private business, meaning I reserve the right to refuse service. What part of ‘no’ don’t you boys understand?” Miss Eureka’s raised voice drew my attention back to the scuffle.
“She’s right, fellas. Time to move on.” I walked forward and stood next to Miss Eureka until they got the point and moved on. But not before the inmate I’d just had in my prison for a few days gave me the middle finger. I narrowed my eyes at him and he was quick to put some distance between us.
Miss Eureka and I stood there, watching them walk down Brinestone Way, cheeks a-jiggling, until they disappeared from sight.
“Well, that was interesting.”
She sno
rted delicately. “The outfit or the fact I’m right?”
I almost let the smile free, delighted by her spunk, even as it irritated me in equal measure. I could feel her stare on the side of my face. Turning slowly, I stared right back, watching as the red cheeks faded to pink and then to that pale skin I wondered if she had everywhere.
“Happy to offer my services.”
A knowing smile formed on her face and I realized belatedly that she thought I was complying with her blackmail. By stepping in just now, she assumed I was fulfilling my end of the deal. I’d have to disabuse her of that notion before the day was up.
“Given you know all about my ejaculatory medical information, don’t you think I should at least get to call you by your first name?”
She sniffed, but I didn’t miss the way her cheeks pinked up again. “It’s Lucille.”
I cracked a grin. “Like I Love Lucy?”
“No one calls me Lucy.”
“Well, why not?”
“My name is Lucille, not Lucy.”
“Oh, excuse me. I forgot you like to keep things formal to the point of being stiff.”
“I do not!” Her hands went back on her hips, the very ones I’d been eyeing earlier at Coffee.
Blueish gray.
Her eyes took on a deeper blue color when she was angry. Well, hot damn.
I stowed that information away to examine later when I tried to decipher what it was about this woman that got under my skin.
“Have a lovely day, Lucille.” I paused a moment, needing just an extra second to gaze at her face. To take in the long lashes, the delicate eyebrows over those blue-gray eyes, and the way her bottom lip was fuller than her top.
“Good day, Bain,” she said to my back as I walked to my truck.
My name on her lips almost made me pause again, but I was made of sterner stuff.
I had a war to win.
10
Lucille
“Clyde, I need you.”
I might get a kink in my neck keeping my cell phone wedged between my ear and my shoulder, but it was worth it. Multitasking was my bitch today, letting me get done a ton of work I’d neglected for too long. Currently, I logged new samples and updated insurance company information in our computer system while answering the phone call from the town’s one and only tow truck driver, Clyde.
Poor Ghia was deader than a doornail out there on Brinestone Way. After Bain got those two creeps to leave, I’d gone back out to start her up. Encouraging words and essential oil drops didn’t do the trick this time, so there I was, at the mercy of Clyde to get home tonight.
Despite the car trouble, I was having a fantastic day what with Bain showing up to hold up his end of the bargain. This blackmailing thing was working out much better than expected. I had the poor man on his knees, which gave me quite the thrill. I could literally see him on his knees, his face pressing against my—
“No can do, Miss Lucille.” Clyde’s voice boomed in my ear and I nearly dropped the damn phone. “I’m over on the other side of town hauling a tree off the cliffside. Must have fallen last night with all the wind we had.”
The breath left my body, leaving me defeated. “Well, shoot. If you get done quick, can you come on by tonight and get the car to the mechanic? Or maybe Monday morning first thing?”
“You bet, Miss Lucille. I’ll get her there, don’t you worry.”
“Thanks, Clyde. I appreciate it.” Wasn’t his fault he couldn’t get here in time to give me a ride home.
The computer screen in front of me blurred from too many hours staring at it. I’d lost track of time working and waiting for Clyde to call me back. My stomach let out a huge growl and I knew I needed to eat first, then tackle the rest of the administrative tasks that came with storing sperm.
My lunch sack clanked against my thigh as I shoved the back door open by putting my entire body weight into it. The wind last night had brought some higher humidity and now all the doors were sticking, requiring a level of muscle I didn’t seem to possess. Nothing a woman hated more than being reminded of her physical weaknesses than being bested by an inanimate object.
Lunch was a sad affair of half-wilted grapes, string cheese, and a sleeve of Ritz crackers. I hadn’t gotten around to grocery shopping in recent days and my nutrition intake was suffering because of it. I didn’t waste any time tucking into it, though. The sooner I got back to my desk, the sooner I could go home and enjoy what was left of my Saturday.
A loud squawk and flapping of wings nearby caused me to drop my grape with enough force to send it rolling off the table and across the concrete, all the way to the back wall of the patio. That damn seagull was back. Two of them this time, bigger than the cats next door, flew up in the air and swooped over the retaining wall to fight over my grape like some kind of beach vulture. I grabbed my lunch and scooted my chair all the way to the back door in case I needed to make a hasty escape. No way was I going to die like I starred in a Hitchcock movie come to life.
Three more of the sea dogs flew over the wall, their wings beating every which way and disturbing the peace. My cute little pot shaped like an elephant went rolling, spilling dirt along the way. One of the seagulls lifted its head, probably smelling my lunch, such as it was, and decided it wanted the meager food for itself.
I stood up, thinking making myself appear larger would help, but the darn thing kept me in its sights. They all began to move as one, coming toward me one little bird leg step at a time. My heart started beating wildly, sensing impending danger. I couldn’t rip my gaze from their ring leader, those beady eyes just daring me to look away. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a few more fly up over the wall and I knew I’d lost. The patio was now theirs to do with as they’d like.
My own damn patio taken away by seagulls.
I grabbed the door handle, nearly slipping right off with the way my hands were producing moisture. They were only a couple feet away now. I needed a distraction. I grabbed a handful of the crackers out of my lunch bag and threw them as hard as I could. The little disks landed three feet behind the seagulls, drawing their attention away. I used the resulting feeding frenzy to rip open the back door and fly through, slamming it shut behind me and flicking the lock. You know, in case seagulls learned how to open doors. Even then, a closed, locked door wasn’t enough protection for me. I ran down the hallway to the front of the clinic and slid to a stop by my chair. I dropped down onto the pleather and heaved out a sigh of relief.
A knock on the front window of the clinic had me scrambling for a weapon as I bolted upright yet again.
“You okay in there, Lucille?” Poppy’s muffled voice came through the window as I saw her peering in, her hands pressed to the glass to block any reflection.
I waved my cheese stick at her—the weapon I grabbed to defend my life—and walked over to unlock and open the front door. I’d locked it earlier, hoping to deter any further inmate visits while I was here alone on the weekend.
“What’s going on? I heard a strangled scream.” Poppy’s eyes and ears were wide open, waiting for something juicy she could really chew on.
I smiled sheepishly. “Just some seagulls trying to make me their lunch in the back patio.”
“I see.” Poppy narrowed her eyes at me. She didn’t see at all. Probably thought I was drinking on the job. “You’ve got a package outside the front door. Probably one of them shipping companies that don’t hand deliver.”
According to her, leaving a package on a doorstep was ruder than farting in church. Hand delivery or nothing.
I walked around her and went through the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk and spotting the box for those new specimen cups I’d ordered last week. Seeing the actual deposit splashed inside the specimen cup was unnecessary. Young Keva’s sensibilities needed to be considered. Hence the new opaque specimen cups. Hefting the box onto my hip, I dropped my cheese stick.
“Well, crap. There went my lunch,” I muttered.
A loud screech fille
d the air and had me racing back to the safety of the doorway with Poppy. I knew that sound now. Knew it well. Incoming seagulls. Apparently the back patio wasn’t enough for them. They wanted to take over my entire clinic. As for me, my feathers were unruffled. I’d become used to their chaos.
One flew under the tree and swooped down like a majestic pelican, its only focus my cheese. Three more were right on his tail, beaks straining to make first contact with the poor cheese stick.
“What in the world?” Poppy’s jaw dropped open as she took in the scene.
Wings were flapping and birds were hopping around in the middle of a cheese stick tug-of-war. Somebody let some poop loose, which the others danced right through and spread around in tiny webbed footprints. That’s when I decided enough was enough. Pulling Poppy into the clinic, I slammed the door, dropped my box of cups, and watched the battle from the safe zone of the front window.
“These surf chickens have become a real nuisance! You should get a pest control guy out here to assess. Maybe your essential oil blend is catnip to seagulls or something.” Poppy couldn’t take her eyes off the bird fight.
I shook my head, a little weirded out by the whole thing and a whole lot frustrated that my clinic was attracting seagulls and inmates when all I wanted to do was help people have babies.
“There’s always been one or two around, but today they’ve gotten completely out of control. I’ll have to do some research to see what gets them to leave an area alone.” Add another thing to my to-do list.
The victorious seagull flew away, the rest following after him, hoping he’d drop what was left of my cheese. Poppy looked left and right before opening the door and hightailing it out of there, without even a goodbye. For her size, she had quite the springy hop over the poop puddle, landing easily and walking along to the prison to deliver their weekend mail.
