A chorus of “No” was the response.
“I really need some help with this, ladies. I can’t have a kitten.”
Ma Thomas, who was now looking at a display of hair mousse, glanced over her shoulder. “Why can’t you, dear? You live on a lovely little farm now, not in the upstairs flat. That’s a perfect place to have a cat.”
Perfect for someone else, maybe, Crystal thought. But it wouldn’t be perfect for her. She would start to love that kitten. She just knew she would. And right after she invested all of her heart into it, something terrible would happen. When she was younger, she had been foolish enough to let herself love a puppy and a horse. She’d lost both of them.
Crystal went to her station to sweep up hair clippings from the last styling session. As she stared down at the black bristles of the broom moving over the laminated plank floor, her mind took her back in time to when she was only eleven years old. She stood over an open grave, staring down at a small cherrywood casket. The sky above her was leaden with approaching rain. The moist Washington breeze sliced through her wool coat and made her bones feel cold. But no matter how badly she shivered, she knew she would never feel as cold as her little sister—until she died herself.
“Crystal! Crystal?”
Jerking back to reality, Crystal stared stupidly at Jules, who’d been waving a hand in front of her face. “What? I’m sorry. I zoned out for a second.”
“I’ve misplaced my perm rollers. Can I borrow yours?”
“Uh . . . sure. Help yourself.”
Crystal resumed her task, sweeping with more vigor than necessary. She should never let herself think about that day. Never. She could cry until she felt sick. She could bleed inside where nobody else could see. She could even wish she were dead herself. But nothing would ever bring Mary Ann back. Nothing.
* * *
Tanner dialed Tuck’s number during his midmorning coffee break, which consisted of sipping hot java from a thermos cup while he sat in the parked van along a gravel road. When a workingman was raising children, he didn’t stop at a café and spend money on coffee. He also packed a lunch even though he made sure his kids got to eat cafeteria food, which was a whole lot better than his cold sandwiches.
Tuck answered on the fourth ring. “Tanner. Saw it was you on my phone. I’m so sorry about what happened, son. All I can say is, I didn’t do it.”
Tanner already knew that. Tuck would never betray a friend. “I just called to make sure you’re all right and didn’t get in serious trouble when they caught you. I heard you could be evicted.”
“I didn’t get that lucky. But forget about me. You’ve got two kids to support. Did you lose your job?”
“No. I only have to drive a different route for a while. And I’m glad you got to stay in your apartment.”
“If I got evicted, I’d jump for joy on my one good leg. I hate this damned place.” He sighed. “My granddaughter filed the complaint, and now we ain’t speakin’. I’m real pissed off at her.”
Tanner stared out the windshield. “Yesterday you called her a sweet girl. Don’t damage the relationship on my account.”
“I won’t. But she stepped over a bunch of lines last night, and I ain’t of a mind to forgive her too fast. Grabbed my cell phone and invaded my privacy, like as if I’m a teenage boy and she bought the damned thing for me. I’ll be hanged. I been payin’ my own way for sixty-six freakin’ years.”
Tanner tried to imagine how furious he would be if that happened to him. He valued his privacy and would be beside himself if someone read his phone records, personal texts, and email messages.
“It wasn’t a fun time,” Tuck went on. “The hell bitch that runs this joint brought in a crew of women to ransack my place. Lordy! They even found my damned rubbers and almost threw ’em away. I threatened to call the cops and charge ’em with theft.”
Tanner nearly choked on his coffee. “Rubbers? You mean prophylactics?”
“Call ’em any fancy name you want, they’re still just rubbers.”
Tanner barely managed to turn a whoop of laughter into a strangled cough. He cleared his throat and grinned. “Tuck, maybe I don’t want to know, but what the hell do you need rubbers for?”
“What the hell do you think I need ’em for? I always keep some on hand. You just never know when you might need one. This place is spillin’ over with single women. Ain’t you ever heard of safe sex? If you haven’t, get your ass over here, and I’ll educate you over a cold one.”
This time the laugh got out before Tanner could stop it. This old man was good for him. “They took all your beer.”
“Sure as shit. I’m countin’ on you to bring me more.”
“Oh, no, not me. I didn’t get fired, but I’m demoted for a year, stuck with the rural route in Mystic Creek.”
“Aw, damn.” Tuck heaved a disgruntled sigh, which created a whoosh of static that hissed against Tanner’s eardrum. “There went gettin’ home early to spend time with your kiddos. I’m sorry, son. I shouldn’t have asked you.”
“It’s my own fault. Don’t blame yourself.” Tanner took a cautious sip of coffee. “Next time you’re thirsty and needing a chew, I’ll tell you to wait until I’m off work and driving my own vehicle.”
Tuck laughed. “You’re a true friend. I can count the ones I’ve had in my lifetime on the fingers of one hand, so consider yourself special.”
“Well, don’t count me as being so special that you ruin things between you and your granddaughter.” In actuality, Tanner wished he had Crystal Malloy sitting on the collapsible bench of a dunking tank. He’d thrown countless baseballs with his son and developed a good enough arm to almost drown her. “She’s your only family. It’s not worth it.”
“Don’t worry,” Tuck replied. “I’ll forgive her in time. She got pushed into doing it by the woman who runs this outfit. I gotta tell you, that old bitch is scary. She got her bluff in on Crystal, anyhow, and that don’t happen often. My granddaughter is a spitfire redhead, and most times she don’t take shit off nobody.”
Tanner washed the bitterness he felt toward Crystal off his tongue with another swallow of coffee.
Then Tuck added, “She’s worried about me. Where will she take me if I get kicked out? How will she care for me when she’s got to work? And I think my damned dog is runnin’ her ragged when she’s supposed to be at the salon. But knowin’ all that ain’t enough to get me over feelin’ mad at her.”
Tanner recalled watching Tuck struggle yesterday to walk across a room, and a sick feeling settled in his stomach for the second time that day. The old man was prideful, and he wouldn’t admit he was finished until his last ounce of strength was gone. As much as Tanner wanted to hold a grudge against Crystal Malloy, he could understand how protective she must have felt of her grandfather right now.
Tuck continued talking. “She seems to think I’ve reached an age where she’s gotta mother me. I see some battles between us on the road ahead. I surely do.”
Tanner did, too. He stared out the windshield again, trying to picture Crystal Malloy. A female version of Tuck with red hair sprang into his mind. Not an attractive picture.
He rolled down his window and tossed out the remainder of the coffee. “I need to roll, Tuck. My coffee break’s over. Working this area with another hour of driving tacked onto my day means getting home later. I need to finish my route as fast as I can so I can have some free time with my kids tonight.”
“I know. And I’m almighty sorry that you got turned in. I promised that wouldn’t happen.”
“I’ll be by to see you as soon as I can. We’ll drink coffee and have a bullshit session.”
* * *
Crystal normally loved lunchtime at the salon. Most of the local restaurants and cafés delivered, and each of the gals ordered different food so everyone could share and enjoy a smorgasbord. Today they’d gone with
a Mexican theme—always a favorite, not so much because of the menu, but because the owners of the town’s two Mexican places were both handsome bachelors under forty. Joe Paisley was tall with dark hair and dreamy brown eyes. He was also nice, which made him difficult to resist. José Hayden, about Joe’s age at thirty-four, had his Latina mother’s black hair, café au lait skin, and a muscular build that made a woman look twice.
Right now, though, Crystal had other things on her mind besides men or food. She was still edgy about Tuck being angry with her, so instead of dishing up a plate, she nibbled on corn chips at the front desk while she ordered salon supplies. Every few minutes she allowed herself to surface long enough to absorb some of the girl talk being exchanged over the heads of female clients in varying stages of procedures. Even the two older women who’d come in for shampoos and cuts were laughing at all the nonsense.
One of them said, “I’ve never understood what any woman can find attractive about a man’s butt.”
“Oh, honey,” Jules said with a grin. “Start looking at the guys in tight jeans. You’ll finally get it.”
Crystal blocked out the chatter, trying to remember which styling gel she’d run low on. Her attention was snagged when Nadine said, “All joking aside, I heard something scary at the Pill Minder this morning. Mystic Creek has a peeping tom who has stepped up his game to burglary. He steals ladies’ underthings.”
Crystal snapped to full attention at the word burglary. “You’re kidding,” she said. “I’ve lived here for ages, and it’s always been safe.”
“I have it on good authority,” Nadine assured her.
“I heard about it, too,” Shannon confirmed. “At first he only peered in windows at the golf course, but now he’s entering houses and branching out into other areas of town. Wendy Edwards actually saw him once. She came out of the master bath wearing a short nightie, and he was standing outside her patio door, bold as brass. It scared the dickens out of her. She guessed him to be around forty-five. Brown hair. Stocky build. And she told me she thinks he’s been in their house during the day. She and John golf a lot, and until now they’ve never bothered with locking their doors. She’s missing lingerie. At first she thought she’d just misplaced things.”
“That is just too weird.” Shannon held up a section of her client’s hair and snipped the strands. “Guys who do stuff like that give me the creeps.”
Crystal got up and tossed what was left of her chips into a trash receptacle. “For once I’m glad I have Rip living with me.”
“Yeah, right,” Jules said with a laugh. “Like he’s ever home to protect you. He’s such a nonpresence, none of us have ever met him. Besides, Sheriff Lang is on it, I’m sure. He and his deputies will nail the guy.”
“Maybe. But I find it odd that Wendy didn’t recognize the man.” Crystal hung her salon jacket on a wall hook and grabbed her purse. “Mystic Creek is so small that I rarely see an unfamiliar face.”
“Maybe he’s an outsider, someone who drives here to live out his sick fantasies,” Shannon said. “He’d be less likely to be identified in a town where nobody knows him.”
Crystal sighed. “Well, ladies, enjoy scaring one another senseless. My advice is to start locking your doors. I’m out of here for the rest of my lunch hour. I have to buy stuff for the kitten and run home. If Rip has gotten out of the yard again and I get arrested for animal abuse, pool your funds and bail me out.”
A chorus of comments followed her from the building. “Oh, you’re such a meanie.” “Don’t you hurt Tuck’s dog!” “The only thing I’ve ever seen you harm was a spider, and afterward you felt bad.”
Crystal headed for the market, propelled her shopping cart through the aisles at breakneck speed, and headed for home. As she jammed on the brakes outside the fence, she didn’t see Rip in the yard, but sometimes he found a patch of shade and took a nap. The canine had seemed perfectly healthy this morning, which had been a huge relief. After collecting bags from the trunk of her car, she walked to the gate with both arms loaded. With a twist of her hips, she managed to get the fingers of one hand under the flip-up latch.
Just then Rip bounded up, stopped at the opposite side of the chain-link fence, and bared his teeth at her. Crystal groaned. “Come on, Rip. Not now, when I’ve got groceries to carry. Give me a break.”
But the dog continued to snarl. Muttering under her breath, Crystal deposited her purchases on the ground and returned to the car to get dog biscuits from the storage bin on the inside of the driver’s door. “You’re a royal pain in the neck,” she told the heeler as she retraced her steps. “Why Tuck allowed you to do this, I’ll never know.”
She gave the dog one treat and then stuffed all but three of the others in the front pocket of her brown slacks. After she picked up the bags again, Rip allowed her safe passage through the gate, but when she reached the porch, she had to toss him another bribe in order to ascend the steps. At the door, she proffered yet another biscuit and then struggled to turn the knob to get inside.
Rip followed her in, his nails clacking on the plank floor. As she deposited the bulging plastic bags on the kitchen counter, she said, “I should order you a second shock collar controlled by remote. Oh, yeah, bad news for you, but I know about those gadgets now. Instead of bribing my way into the yard, I could just push a button and zing the orneriness right out of you. Now that I’ve come to think of it, Rip, your reign of terror could be short-lived.” She opened a bag of kitten kibble. Then she washed the newly purchased cat dish. “No more biting only me and Tuck while you act all sweet and nice to strangers. No more terrorizing the postman or law officers, either. You could become a perfect gentleman.” The kitten came bounding into the kitchen. All the hair along Rip’s spine bristled. “Don’t you dare!” Crystal warned. “If you so much as snap at that baby, I’ll beat you with a ball bat!”
Crystal didn’t own a ball bat, but the threat seemed to work. Rip only growled as the kitten trotted over to her.
“You met No Name this morning before I put you outside,” Crystal reminded the dog. “Nothing has changed except that he’ll be staying longer than I thought. And make no mistake: I like him a lot better than I do you. So be nice.”
With an expression of disgust, Rip went to lie on his bed while Crystal fed the feline and familiarized him with his freshly filled litter box, which she placed in the laundry room. When she returned to the kitchen, she found Rip polishing off the kitten kibble that had been left in the bowl.
“You see?” Crystal said to the dog. “There are perks to having a cat in the house. Just don’t get used to it. He’s staying here only two weeks.”
She finished putting away her purchases, then shut the kitten in the laundry room with his litter box, food, and water. She wanted to make sure Rip didn’t somehow gain entrance to the house and harm the little guy while she was gone. As she moved back into the living area, she dug in her pocket for more dog biscuits and whistled for Rip. She gave him a treat before she opened the door, then again as she left the porch, and yet again before she went out the gate.
“For once, Rip, do me a huge favor and stay in the yard. I really need to work, and it won’t hurt you to take a day off from running amok.” She turned to make sure the latch caught. “And hello. I buy your kibble. The money I make should matter to you. What if I run short and can’t buy you food?”
Rip dropped to his belly and angled a paw over his eyes as he emitted a mournful whine.
“What’s that mean?” Crystal tipped her head to stare at him. “Sometimes I get the eerie feeling you understand everything I say.”
* * *
Crystal finished her last client at five and drove to the assisted living center, torn between wanting to speed and to drive as slowly as possible. She dreaded facing Tuck, but she’d learned years ago that he admired bravery and had little use for cowards. Luckily, a parking space was available near the main door. He
r feet ached from wearing three-inch heels, but when she was at the salon or running errands in town, she tried to look fashionable. She told herself it was good for business, but there was a sad broken child buried inside her, too, and the only way Crystal knew to keep her hidden was to dress so flashy that people never looked too deeply beneath the surface. Instead they beheld Crystal Malloy, a tall, confident redhead who embraced bold fashion as if her life were an open book.
She pushed through the double glass doors of the facility. It was Thursday, so Marsha, who had seniority and didn’t work weekends, was manning the front desk. Crystal had never visited late enough yet to know exactly when her shift ended, but it began at three.
“Hey, you,” Crystal called out as she moved across the vestibule. “How has everything gone for Tuck today?”
Marsha shrugged. “He hasn’t left his room, not even for meals. The aides took trays to his apartment. Even right after his surgery, he always went to the dining room.”
Crystal released a taut breath. Then she forced a smile. “He’s mad at me, Marsha. Or maybe I should say disappointed in me, because I betrayed his friend.”
“The fire-breathing dragon gave you no choice. She backed you into a corner.”
Crystal set her purse on the elevated countertop and folded her arms on the faux-granite surface. “I need some help. I’ve been trying to find an in-home caregiver for Tuck, but my sources aren’t panning out. I’ve researched temp services. They’re too expensive. Newspaper ads offer me very few leads. Craigslist is a disaster. I’m afraid I’ll hire a murderer.” She spread her hands. “Tuck doesn’t need a trained nurse, only someone who can keep him company, cook a little, and tidy up.”
Marsha brightened. “I know someone.” Then her smile vanished. “No, she wouldn’t work. She’s got a new baby.”
Crystal sighed. “Tuck likes babies, but I don’t think a young mother would be ideal. I need someone I can depend on five days a week, no matter what.”
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