Finding Susan (8 page)

His arms wrapped around her and she melted. Embarrassing, but true. She absolutely melted against him, as though her body was made to mold to his and she was going to let it.
 

He drew back quickly enough, and pulled away from her, looking everywhere but into her eyes. She gasped for breath and tried to stop her heart from beating so darn hard. She was gob-smacked alright.
 

She just stood there for a few seconds, trying to get her bearings. What the heck? Did this mean that she’d spent all these years—all this time when she’d been trying to figure out why flirty college boys annoyed her and handsome lawyers bored her and she’d almost charged that slick, rich business man who’d tried very aggressively to bed her with rape—all this time she’d been a flop at dating because she’d been secretly longing to come back and find Blake—so very secretly that she didn’t even know it herself?
 

Impossible.
 

Wasn’t it?

She gulped in some air and tried to act normal. Why did she feel this strange buzzing in her head?

He went on as though nothing had happened, first taking a deep sip of the coffee from the mug, then looking around at the work area. For just a second, his eyes seemed to widen with some sort of reaction. She stared hard, hoping to be able to read what it was.
 

But just as quickly, it was gone. He wouldn’t even meet her gaze. She drooped a bit.
 

“Anyway, it looks like I didn’t bring enough wood,” he was saying, making it clear that was what was on his mind, not what had just happened between them. “Guess I wasn’t figuring on rebuilding the whole thing from scratch.”

She cleared her throat and surprised herself by managing to talk pretty normally. “Is that what you’re going to do? I could call in a carpenter.”

“Only one in town is old Zeke Meyer.
 
You remember him?”

Kate shook her head, and then the name Zeke registered.
 
“I remember him! High school dropout, used to drive around in that convertible of his, mullet flapping in the breeze.
 
Wow, I wouldn’t let him near my house.”

“Yeah, well...
 
this probably isn’t a one-day job, so I guess you’d be better off using the back door until you can use the front one.”

“That would be the logical choice.”

Finally, he looked her in the eye. “That is, if you’re not going to be heading out soon. Like today, maybe?”

She gave him a smart-aleck look. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Sorry to disappoint you, Blakey my dear. I may even be putting down roots.”

“Roots.” He jerked his mouth in a sarcastic twist.
 

She didn’t wait to see what else he might have to say about it.

“Let’s go,” she said.
 
She pulled car keys out of her pocket and shook them.

“Go where?” Blake asked, looking genuinely confused with that steaming mug in his hand.
 
Kate smiled.
 

“The hardware store, of course.
 
I declare myself foreman of this construction site, Mr. Officer Spanner.”

He stared at her, waiting to be annoyed. It was getting pretty obvious she wasn’t going to leave town any time soon. But for some reason, her grin was contagious. Something in that look was giving him goose bumps. She was staying all right. And he was going to help her, wasn’t he?

What the hell.
 
It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do.
 

***
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***

The car trip over to the hardware store and the twenty minutes they spent picking up wood, brackets, along with some pretty little pieces of railing, all came out to seem like just about the longest twenty minutes in Blake’s life. It wasn’t that Kate wasn’t charming in her acerbic way - she was. And not an unpleasant diversion for the eyes, either. But every other word was a barb or a needle or a little undercutting joke. Blake was starting to get fed up.

He was relieved when they met up with Joe Bob Mortimer in the hardware store, and Kate could turn her attentions to apologizing to Joe Bob while Blake helped him cart down some cinder blocks and a couple bags of cement.

Now he was leaning against the cart of their own purchased goods, trying to figure out some good way to get them all into the PT Cruiser. The 2 x 6’s fit when stacked side by side between the driver and passenger seats up front, but they’d need to leave the back open.
 

“Best bet is to go buy some bungee cords to keep everything from flying out the second you hit the brakes.”

“Mm. Or we could just drive real slow,” Kate offered. Not being serious, of course. Sheesh.

“I’ll go back in there and get some proper supplies for the journey.”

“Hmm,” Kate said. She’d just noticed Allison, the veterinarian, coming toward them on the street, taking one look and turning to hurry off in the opposite direction. “You do that. I’ve got to go see a man about a horse.”

“What? Kate, what are you talking about?”

“It’s just an expression, silly. You do what you need to do. I’ll be right back.”

It was all coming back to her now, and luckily, she knew the streets of this town like the back of her hand. More or less. She ducked down the alley and beat Allison to the parking lot where she’d left her car.
 

“Hi there,” she said to the older woman, trying to sound jovial. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Allison jumped and looked terrified.
 

“I…I can’t talk. I’m in something of a hurry and…”

“I just wanted to ask you a little more about my sister.”

“Susan? I told you, I haven’t seen her for years.”

Kate reached out and touched her arm. “What are you scared of Allison? Is it Joe Bob?”

“Joe Bob?” Allison calmed down at that one. She looked a bit severe as she gazed at Kate. “No, now why would I be scared of Joe Bob?”

Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one who seems so jumpy.”

Allison was frowning at her. ““Don’t go talking bad about Joe Bob. Now, I know he may eat those little animals he catches, but on the whole, Joe Bob does a lot of good in this town. He tends to sick and wounded animals all the time. I’ve seen many he’s brought back to health.”

Kate was struck by how adamant she was, and by the fact that she knew about Joe Bob’s animal-catching habits—and knew that Kate knew, too. Was there a real connection between these two? That would be weird.
 

“You’ve got to admit, he’s sort of spooky.”

“What? Don’t say that. What gave you that idea?” She was really taking a dislike to Kate now.

But Kate was remembering something else—that Allison had a few spooky habits of her own.
 

“Wait a minute. You remember all those weird concoctions that you gave Susan in the old days?”

Allison drew back stiffly. “What are you talking about?”

“Those jars of stuff she used to bring home.”

“What?”

“Back when she was volunteering with you in your animal clinic. She always said you gave them to her. She would come home with mason jars full of….”

Allison reached for her car door, blinking nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She could have got those things anywhere.”

“Right.” Kate was remembering more of what Susan had said about them. “They were spells, weren’t they? Potions. Magic stuff. Right?”

“How would I know?” she cried, her voice high and trembling.

“She was learning witchcraft from you. Wasn’t she?”

Allison put a hand to her own cheek and laughed, but it had a frantic, hollow sound. “My land, the notions in your head, missy. I don’t know where you got them from.”

“Witchcraft. That was it.” She remembered now. That was why Aunt Gladys had gotten so angry and forbid Susan from bringing home any of those foul concoctions or going to Allison’s anymore. But Kate knew for a fact that Susan snuck over there anyway.
 

Allison had had enough. She jerked away, pulled open her door and slid into the driver’s seat. Looking out at Kate, her face was contorted with anger.
 

 
“You’re just a little snitch, aren’t you?” she said nastily.

Kate’s eyes widened.
 
“No. Actually, I don’t think I am.”
 

“Hah.” And Allison pulled out of her parking space and drove away.
 

Kate watched her go, shaking her head. The woman was about as unbalanced as Joe Bob, wasn’t she? Maybe that was the element that drew them together. Besides the animals, at any rate.

But she hadn’t learned anything new, so she headed back to Main Street where Blake was getting her car loaded and tied down. She arrived just in time to see a commotion developing down the street a bit at the small grocery mart. The town wasn’t large enough to attract one of the big supermarket chains.

“It looks like... what is Mr. Peters doing?” Kate said, blocking the sun from her eyes with her hand.

Chapter Five

Blake saw it too - old Hank Peters, who inherited the store from his father, was charging outside like a bull, his face red and looking like he was about to explode. In his hands he held the wrists of a young girl. Blake recognized her as Mary Wolfe, daughter of local aristocrats, much as that word meant anything in rural California.
 

“Stay here,” Blake said, and he started down the street. Kate only hesitated a moment before following after him.
 

The girl was struggling to get out of Hank’s grip, and he was shouting at her. Blake could only make out a few of the words - “not in my store”, “lock you up”, things like that.
 

“What’s the problem, Mr. Peters?” Blake said.
 

“Ah, Blake. Thank God you’re here. I won’t have to hold this urchin any longer.”

Peters let the girl go, and though Blake thought for a moment she looked like she was going to run, she stayed put. Smart girl - people weren’t likely going to forget it if they saw the daughter of the richest family in town running from the law.
 

Blake glanced up and down the street. There were half a dozen people watching them now, some of them whispering to each other. Blake looked down at Mary’s pretty little face, which looked back at him with a mix of fear and defiance.
 

“Let’s take this inside, Mr. Peters. Mary, you come inside with, uh... Miss Becker here. Hank, clear the people out of your store.”

Hank Peters kept grumbling as he stepped behind the cash register of his little store and looked at the few people still there. They were all speculating very loudly about Mary’s upbringing and composure.

“Her parents must be making some big mistakes,” Blake heard somebody say. He cleared his throat, gave his official “nothing happening here” look to the people, and the gossiping died down in an instant.

“Please, if you could clear out for just a moment,” Blake said, not waiting for Mr. Peters to give the order. The crowd, none speaking a word, ambled outside as Blake scrutinized each and every one of them. When the last patron exited, Blake closed the door.

“Alright, now, Mr. Peters, what exactly...”

“She’s nothing but a thief!” Peters said, pointing at Mary. “She thought she was smarter than me, that she could steal things from me, but I...”

“Calm down, Mr. Peters. Mary?” Blake said, his voice calm and collected. He was using the same measured tone with both of them - he knew from experience that at times like this, the injured party was likely to be more dangerous to public welfare than the accused. Especially someone as righteous and angry as Hank Peters.
 

Mary was standing in front of Kate, and when Kate put a hand on her shoulder she shrugged it off. Blake could tell she was going to go on the defensive and probably start lying. It would only compound her problem.

But then Mary started to sniff, and tears came down her face. She sobbed and turned and grabbed the closest thing she could find, which was Kate, and buried her face into her.
 

“She’s trying to... you see what she’s trying to do!” Peters said.
 

“Kate, take Mary into the bathroom. You remember where that is?” Blake said calmly.
 

Kate nodded, and started off, dragging the weeping Mary along with her.

“Now you’re going to give into that?” Peters said, outraged.
 

“I’m not giving into anything, Mr. Peters. Let me see what she stole.”

Mr. Peters, looked down, like he was embarrassed, and he dropped the merchandise on the counter. A tube of toothpaste, some black licorice, and a pair of men’s shaving razors. Blake did a quick look through the store. The toothpaste and razors were on one aisle, the licorice was on a display rack in front of the counter.
 

“Mr. Peters, that’s about four dollars worth of merchandise,” Blake said.

“I knew it,” Mr. Peters interrupted. “You see the little girl crying, and you take her side. I have a business to run, Deputy! I can’t have thieves running roughshod over me. Anyway, it doesn’t matter how much the stuff is worth. It’s the principle!”

“I agree, Mr. Peters. But I think I have a way to let her be properly punished and not get the courts involved on something so...” Blake could tell that if he said the word he was going for, trivial, that Mr. Peters was going to go on another self-righteous rant. “Something that they wouldn’t be able to handle with the proper sensitivity.”

“Sensitivity? Bah. What about sensitivity to me? I can’t go putting stolen merchandise back on the shelf.”

“And this should make you feel better,” Blake said, and he pulled out his wallet and laid four bucks on the counter. For the first time since he’d started to talk, he could tell that Hank Peters was conflicted.
 

He smiled. Another day keeping the peace. Sometimes he just felt like he had a knack for it.
 

***
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***

Kate was feeling worried again, and she was tired of feeling worried. She was wondering what in the world Blake expected her to do with the girl here in the bathroom. Beat a confession out of her? Make her stop crying? Kate didn’t know the first thing about relating to kids, though the truth was most of the criminals she defended weren’t much older than Mary was.