by Fiona Roarke
Max shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
She finished the mozzarella stick and grabbed one of the onion rings. “You can have that spare rib if you want. I prefer baby back ribs.”
“Baby back ribs?”
“Oh, yeah. You will love them.”
He grinned. “I love you.”
Ruby stifled the urge to roll her eyes, instead saying, “Well, I like you a lot, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You are unexpected.”
He nodded, his warm smile still in place. “So are you.”
“Oh? You don’t tell every woman you meet that you love them and want to marry them?”
“Nope. Only you.”
“Cool.”
They finished up the few appetizers left on the platter just as Bridget, carrying a huge food tray, brought their substantial main order.
Once they finished eating every last morsel of food put before them, Ruby told Max she had some work to do and promised to meet him after he was finished working for the day.
“Why don’t you stop by Bubba’s Psychic Readings? I can set you up as my final client.”
“You want to read my mind?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not even sure how you can do that. Witches are supposed to be difficult to read, if not impossible. That’s what Bianca says anyway.”
“Bianca’s a very good psychic,” Max said with a shrug. “Has she read you before?”
“She has, but says she only gets flashes of things or single images sometimes.”
“Still, I’d like to try.”
“Okay, I’ll let you ‘read’ me.”
“And kiss you?”
“And kiss me.”
“Excellent.”
Max paid the bill, adding a generous tip as usual because he appreciated how well he was always treated in Howler’s.
They walked out together hand in hand. “What are you going to do for the afternoon?”
“This and that. I have a few errands to run. You know, now that I’ve solved the recent mystery of finding you, I’m between jobs until you get off work.”
“After I read you and we kiss, then we can go back to Matilda and her friend’s place, right?”
“Yep.”
“And then when I still love you and want to marry you, could we go out to dinner together?”
“Indeed. But only if you still love me and want to marry me.”
The “this and that” Ruby planned involved spending the afternoon searching for the redheaded man with the bottle of blue knockout spray. No way would she let him get away with stealing time from Max.
First stop, the Pinehurst Inn, home of the giant cockroach, to search for anyone new in town, then work through the other bed-and-breakfast establishments and motels to find any and all non-human newcomers working to thwart her new friend. Boyfriend. Future husband. Stop it.
She felt loyal to Max. He was this huge, tall, muscular Alpha alien who could wield an axe at a party and not look out of place, but as she came to know him, he seemed very much a gentle soul. He made her feel more comfortable than anyone she’d ever contemplated as a partner.
There was a sense of wonder in his manner as he experienced living in Nocturne Falls. Ruby hadn’t been here long, but she loved it. This place was her home. Gratitude was the most prevalent feeling when she thought about living in this unusual town.
She was finally comfortable with her new family, with her new job, with this new man who, while understandably concerned about the strange things happening to him, was not angry or belligerent. Not like he expected disaster at every turn, but more that he rolled with the punches, never getting wrathful or hateful when things didn’t go as expected.
Ruby appreciated his demeanor when he was with her. He was not judgmental about anything she did. She often waited for it, like she had with Aunt Vilma, Warrick and Viktor when she’d first arrived in town. It took some time, but she came to trust their friendly support and genuine love. Even the excessive teasing from her brothers made her feel like she belonged.
Max made her feel like she didn’t have to change or be anyone but who she was for him to appreciate her. Not like when she lived with her maternal family, where her days consisted of endless demands to be something she was not, caustic rebukes as to her wishes in life and, worse, indifference as to her very existence when she wouldn’t cave to their commands to be something she wasn’t: a powerful witch.
Her grandmother especially had watched her with continual disappointment, as if it was Ruby’s fault she’d been sired by someone the family absolutely disapproved of. Ruby’s skills as a witch were so weak, she often wondered if her father hadn’t been completely pureborn, but hadn’t had the courage to ask Aunt Vilma.
A distant memory shot to the forefront of Ruby’s mind. It was one of the last interactions Ruby had with her grandmother before she left for Nocturne Falls. The old woman had fallen asleep in her rocking chair. When Ruby woke her, her grandmother opened her eyes, stared at Ruby and said sleepily, “Bogdan, is that you?”
“Who is Bogdan?” she’d asked.
Her grandmother shook her head and pretended she hadn’t said anything. As the old woman pulled free of sleep, she promptly derided what Ruby was wearing as pagan and not what a lady of their class would wear. Another not so wonderful memory of her previous life.
The Pinehurst Inn’s clerk was spectacularly unhelpful. She’d hoped to find out if any new, skinny, blue-bottle wielding, fire-bug tenants were in residence but didn’t expect such a wall of defiance with her first interview.
After citing privacy rules and various statutes regarding room rental and the state of Georgia’s rules on privacy, he would only say there were new guests registered in the past week, but now how many or who they were.
Also, not when they arrived. Not if they came together or separately. Not what their room numbers were. He refused to say anything else. “Not unless you have a warrant!”
The guy obviously watched too much television. Ruby silently fumed, thanked him for his “help” and exited.
An unknown quantity of people registering in the past week was not very insightful. However, her ability to read upside down often came in very handy. The guest book had been open and she saw the last two entries, the date they arrived—five days apart—and the room numbers assigned to each guest.
The clerk’s fingers had covered the names, and all she’d seen was that the most recent guest had a first name that started with M. But perhaps Howard was here, that was his last name and his first started with M. The earlier entry had a name that ended in a T, which could be anything.
Ruby knocked on the doors of the assigned rooms to see if anyone was home who had red hair or looked like Howard. But after repeated knocking with no response, she accepted that either the guests were out or they refused to answer. She’d come back and try again later.
On the way back from the Pinehurst Inn, she stopped by the chocolate shop for an after-lunch treat. She also picked up a variety chocolate box to share with Max later, hoping he loved chocolate from Delany’s Delectables as much as she did. It wasn’t a deal breaker, but she suspected she would end up having to share anything she bought there in the future. That made her smile.
Ruby allowed a piece of heavenly chocolate truffle to melt on her tongue as she headed in the direction of a new bed-and-breakfast that had opened for business recently.
It was a lovely day, more so after sharing a delightful lunch with a non-judgmental man who didn’t blink at her ordering a double cheeseburger with fries or gawk as she finished every bite.
Before she walked three more steps, a giant explosion from behind her in the vicinity of the gargoyle fountain rocked her nearly off her feet. Fire and smoke billowed up into the sky, sending Ruby running toward the danger, not away from it. She wove through the crowd of tourists fleeing the explosion and arrived as the fire was vanquished by the gargoyle on duty, who scooped water from
the fountain onto the sidewalk.
Luckily, the few tourists still in the vicinity seemed impressed that the animatronic gargoyle was sophisticated enough for fire suppression rather than wondering about paranormal activities.
But who would try to set the gargoyle fountain on fire?
Chapter Eleven
<^> <^> <^>
Max remained shaken by the incident with Howard. His nerves drew tighter as he faced Bubba in his office immediately upon his return from lunch.
“Sounds like you’ve had quite an exciting day.”
He nodded, but didn’t want to explain so much as answer whatever questions Bubba had.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Didn’t Astrid tell you already?”
“She did. However, I want to hear the story in your words.”
Max nodded again and recounted all he remembered. Which was not much. Howard’s entry, the question, the blue aerosol bottle, then nothing for forty-five minutes.
“And you didn’t recognize Howard at all?”
“He seemed familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”
“He asked for you especially.”
“Apparently. That’s what Astrid said.”
“And you have no memory of anything for forty-five minutes.”
“That’s right.”
“Interesting.”
Max tilted his head. “Interesting as in ‘you’re fired, don’t ever show your face on this Earth colony ever again’ or just interesting, interesting.”
The hulking former Guardsman cracked a smile. “Why would I fire you? Someone is obviously messing with you, Max.”
“I’ve been framed before. I recognize the signs. It didn’t go particularly well for me last time.” Not counting my interaction with the Sheriff directly after the Black and Orange Ball.
Bubba nodded. After several long seconds of silence, he added, “Whoever it is, we’ll figure it out. Okay?”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” The compulsion to tell the truth reared up so fast he couldn’t stop it. “There is something else that you need to know.” He wanted to bite his tongue off rather than tell his boss about the recent episode with Sheriff Merrow. Because that was exactly what he needed in his life, another incident he’d have to run from.
“What else?”
“Did Sheriff Merrow tell you he questioned me after the Black and Orange Ball?”
His boss’s eyes widened. “No. I sense another interesting story, though.”
Max opened his mouth to carefully explain he wasn’t in any trouble, but a loud explosion from somewhere close by rocked the building. A framed picture of the Big Bang Truck Stop in Alienn, Arkansas bounced on the wall next to Bubba’s desk and slid to the floor with a crash. Outside, someone’s car alarm went off, followed by sudden screams and the sounds of stampeding people.
Bubba lurched to his feet. “What in the space potato farm was that?”
Max didn’t answer. He got a truly horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as he followed Bubba from the office at a run. In the reception area, all the clients and psychics had crowded around the two front windows.
Astrid opened the door to the sidewalk as pedestrians raced by, headed away from the gargoyle fountain. Max and Bubba ducked through the doorway and ran against the foot traffic toward the fountain. A cloud of smoke billowed above the nearby buildings next to a pillar of flame. That can’t be good. Not good at all.
Max noticed the distinct scent of bauxite fuel, a power source used in a lot of Alpha technology. Bubba also inhaled deeply. With some uses, as in explosives, bauxite fuel expelled a particular odor that was easy for Alphas to identify. As soon as he thought it, Bubba said it. “That smells like Alienn bauxite fuel.”
Max nodded grimly as they got close enough to see the damage.
The gargoyle on duty at the fountain was using his big hands to scoop water out and dump it on the sidewalk on the oddly spherical fire as the flames shot straight up into the air—a peculiarity of Alienn bauxite fuel when used out in the open and not in an Alpha-Prime mechanical fuel regulator. Someone showed up with a souvenir Nocturne Falls bucket and helped put out the five-foot-diameter fire on the sidewalk.
As the fire finally winked out, Max heard the siren scream of a firetruck added to the general chaos.
Ruby, her lovely face a mask of concern, sprinted into the melee from the opposite direction and headed straight for him and Bubba. She carried a prettily decorated sack from Delany’s Delectables in one hand.
“What happened? Was that a fire?” she asked, at the same time he asked, “What do you have? Is that chocolate?”
Again, they both started talking at once. “Yes. It’s today’s chocolate of the day, pumpkin spice truffle.” He said over her words, “Something exploded and there was a column of fire.” He stopped short of telling her it was likely the explosion and subsequent fire was made using Alienn bauxite fuel.
Bubba gave him a silent look that he took to mean he shouldn’t offer any further accounting of what happened. Understandable if this was brought on by some crazed Alpha. He just hoped no one pointed a finger at him. He was jumpy about such things these days.
“Hey!” said the guy who’d brought the souvenir bucket. He was young and skinny, maybe twenty years old and fairly nondescript with the exception of his red-orange hair. Max kept seeing red-haired folks. Maybe there was a family of redheads here in Nocturne Falls. The kid pointed accusingly at Max. “Wasn’t that your paper sack by the fountain that blew up?”
Max took a step backward right into Bubba. “No. I didn’t leave any bag here. I wasn’t even in the area until right now.” He shook his head as if that would help convince this stranger he was innocent.
“No way. I saw you, dude!” the kid said in a louder voice. “Hey, this guy did it! He left the paper sack that exploded.”
“I did not!” Max could see how this was shaping up. A crowd was forming as the inquisitive people who had initially fled the explosion started edging back onto the scene to find out what happened.
“Max,” Ruby said. “Did you do this? Did you blow up the fountain?”
He turned to her. “No. Of course not. I didn’t do it. I swear to you, Ruby. It wasn’t me.”
She put a comforting hand on his arm. “I believe you.” She turned to his redheaded accuser. “Well, there you go. He’s telling the truth.”
The guy dropped his accusing finger and tilted his head to one side.
“How do you figure that?”
“Because he has to tell me the truth.”
“What? Why does he have to do that?”
“Because.” Crap. I’m not supposed to mention paranormal stuff in public. “He just always does. It’s like our thing.” She turned to Max and saw his understanding expression and a little smile. The guy made an incredulous face as Sheriff Merrow stepped into their small circle.
“Sheriff!” the young man said. “This guy, here.” He pointed to Max again. “He left the paper sack that blew up.”
Bubba stood up straight. “That’s not true!”
“It is so!”
“How do you know that?” Sheriff Merrow asked the guy.
“I saw him. He did it.” The guy put his forefinger up to the center of his upper lip as if checking to see if he still had a scraggly, barely visible patch of hair there. He did.
“And who are you?” The Sheriff took a small spiral notebook out of his pocket.
The redhead dropped his hand from his face. “Why do you need to know? He did it. Not me.”
“That remains to be seen. You are publicly accusing someone of a crime, sir. That is very serious.”
The young man frowned as if he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t lifted onto the shoulders of the crowd as a hero.
“Tell me what you saw, exactly.” Sheriff Merrow stared at him, pen poised to take notes.
The redhead crossed his arms and frowned. “I saw that guy right there walk into t
he fountain area and drop the paper sack over there.” He nodded once in the direction of the scorched sidewalk next to the fountain. “He looked around, all suspicious like, and then walked away.”
“When was this?”
The guy shrugged. “An hour or so?”
Space potatoes. An hour? That was when Max sat at work lost in a stupor because Howard sprayed something in his face.
“An hour?” The Sheriff grunted. “A hundred people could have messed with that bag in that time.”
“No. I was sitting way over there. I didn’t see anyone mess with it.”
“Why were you staring at it? Were you planning to steal it?” the Sheriff asked.
“No. I was going to see if the guy came back for it and if not, I was going to take it to your office for the lost and found.”
“That was certainly kindhearted of you.”
“Yeah. Good thing I took an extra long lunch in the park, huh?”
“Yeah. Lucky.” Sheriff Merrow didn’t sound convinced. “And if you’d brought the bag to me earlier, you could have put a skylight in my office.”
“Wait. What? What does that mean?” the guy asked, looking worried.
Sheriff Merrow pinned him with a stare. “What was your name again?”
“Um, John.”
“John?” The Sheriff made a notation. “Last name.”
“Um. Johnson.”
“John Johnson?”
“Uh-huh.” The guy nodded. The Sheriff made him recite his address and cell number before he turned to Max. “Where were you an hour ago?”
“I was at work.” In a stupor because some guy named Howard sprayed knockout stuff in my face.
The redhead snorted in disbelief. Sheriff Merrow sent a hard gaze meant to silence the young man and it worked. The redhead frowned and did another single finger to the upper lip mustache check.
He turned back to Max. “Can anyone verify that?”
“I can,” Bubba said immediately. “I’ll come by your office and give a formal statement on Max’s behalf later, if that’s okay. I need to get back to my shop right now.”
“Sure,” Sheriff Merrow said.
