Lost Bird (6 page)

It was tempting, too tempting, to step out of line and go find her. Then again, she didn’t have a hand basket or a cart, so maybe she was there with someone.

And how pitiful is that anyway, to pick up someone in a grocery store? She’d probably think I was a creep.

As he paid for his groceries, he tried to focus on that thought. The poor woman had been through enough. She didn’t need some random stranger coming up to her in Publix and hitting on her.

When he got home, John wasn’t there. It wasn’t unusual for John to work late on Fridays, helping his guys finish up jobs so they didn’t have to work on a Saturday, except for emergency calls. He browned a pound of ground beef and cobbled together a pot of half-store-bought, half-homemade spaghetti sauce to simmer on the stove.

It would only take a couple of minutes to boil the pasta, and the two of them would easily make a meal of just that.

He walked over to where he kept his laptop on a TV table next to the couch and got it powered up. Sachi Wolowitz stubbornly kept filtering into his thoughts.

I wish I’d tried to talk to her more.

On the heels of that, the thought that he didn’t have his own shit together enough to hold up his end of a relationship. And probably the last thing the poor woman needed after what she’d been through was someone like him.

When John called and told him he was on the way, Oscar got the pasta boiling and gave the sauce a stir. The two of them had settled into a fairly boring routine. Tonight, they’d end up watching a couple of shows on TV before they parted ways for the night and went to bed. Tomorrow, unless John was rousted out of bed by an emergency call, they would both end up sleeping late, putter around the apartment and do some housework, and then debate going out. Maybe to play darts, maybe shoot some pool, maybe bowling. Or a movie.

Or…whatever.

They had other friends they sometimes hung out with, single and not. Both men had long since waved off their friends’ many attempts to fix them up on dates. Oscar knew he’d been asked two or three times if he and John were an item, and wondered if John had received the same question.

If so, they never discussed it between them. It seemed more than pathetic to discuss their love lives, or lack thereof.

It wasn’t like they needed to ram it into the other’s face, that was for sure.

It just…was.

John arrived home and grabbed a quick shower. Within a few minutes, they were both sitting in front of the TV, plates of spaghetti and bottles of beer in front of them, and watching the evening news.

To make conversation more than anything, Oscar said, “You won’t believe who I saw in Publix tonight.”

“Who?”

“You know that woman who got shot a couple of weeks ago? Sachi Wolowitz?”

John froze.

“What?” Oscar asked. He didn’t understand the sudden shift in his friend’s demeanor.

“Yeah?” John sounded wary.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. What about her?”

“I saw her in the bakery department at Publix. What’s wrong?”

John put down his fork. “I replaced her water heater on Wednesday. And…she called me today.”

Oscar didn’t understand why he suddenly felt a little surge of jealousy roll through him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Aunt Tammy went into the shop Sachi works at. The New Age place on the square downtown? Sachi called me to tell me they were going to do an investigation Sunday night at Aunt Tammy’s and they asked if we could be there.”

“Huh? What kind of investigation?” Oscar listened as John related his brief conversation with Sachi.

“Of course I’ll go with you,” Oscar said. “I love Aunt Tammy. You know that.”

No, she wasn’t related by blood, but his grandparents were dead and she was the closest thing he had to a grandmother. His own parents had moved out to Arizona a few years earlier. Being an only child, and with no other close family, he welcomed the connection.

Another thought hit him. “You don’t really think she’s got Alzheimer’s or anything, do you?”

John shrugged and took another bite of his pasta. “I hope not. You see her as much as I do. Her house is always tidy, her banking stuff seems okay. I don’t know.”

Oscar knew his friend didn’t believe in the supernatural. He didn’t exactly, either, but he was more open-minded to the possibility. “What if it is her husband?”

John arched an eyebrow at him but didn’t reply.

“Seriously,” Oscar said.

“
Seriously
? Maybe I should get
you
checked out.”

“Keep an open mind.”

“I am. That’s why I agreed to be there with them. Any debate about what’s really behind stuff is kind of a moot point at this time. Whatever happens on Sunday, happens.”

Oscar didn’t know what would happen, but selfishly hoped it meant he could have some time to talk with Sachi again and redeem himself.

* * * *

“You all right, sweetheart?” Sachi’s dad asked as they drove home from the grocery store.

“Yeah.”

“You seem lost in thought.”

No shit.
But she couldn’t admit that to her dad. She also couldn’t believe that twice in the space of a few days she’d seen not one, but two men with those auras.

The Goddess has a really funky sense of humor.

No one else in the store had borne the same vivid aura.

Why now?

She didn’t want to call Mandaline and talk to her about it. There wasn’t any way to do it without her dad possibly overhearing.

It would have to wait until she got into the store tomorrow afternoon. She had three skeet students in the morning, in addition to the juniors squad meeting for their first organized practice since she’d been shot. She couldn’t miss that.

Later that evening, alone in her bedroom, she grabbed her favorite deck of Tarot cards and sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed.

She closed her eyes as she shuffled, trying to clear her mind.

Goddess, please quit screwing around with me. I need a sign, and more than just random hunks with really sexy auras.

She cut the deck, eyes still closed, and laid out three cards, waiting to open her eyes until they were all down.

The Sun. Ace of Cups. Three of Cups.

She puzzled over that. Seeing the Sun card didn’t really surprise her. New beginnings, a brighter future, sure. Okay. Ace of Cups with this deck tended to signify the start of a new romance, or new fortunes.

Again, fine.

But the Three of Cups…

She cocked her head and stared at it. It felt a little odd in the context of the other two cards and the question she’d asked.

Deciding she was too tired to think about it anymore, she quickly gathered the cards, shuffled them, and put them away before crawling under the sheets. As she drifted to sleep, her mind recalled John Evans and the mystery donut hunk.

They are cute…

* * * *

The next morning, no matter how hard Sachi tried to focus, her mind kept trying to return to the two men.

Damn, I wish I’d asked donut guy’s name.

She managed to hold it together, somehow, despite almost flubbing pulls several times because her thoughts had started to drift and she nearly missed the shooter’s call.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by her father. “What’s going on?” he asked her when they were back in the car.

“It’s hot and I need a shower,” she said. She’d grab one at Mandaline’s apartment over the store.

“No,” he said, watching her. “Something’s going on in your mind. What is it? Your focus was not out there today.”

She struggled against the blush threatening to sweep up into her cheeks. “I’m fine, Daddy. I’m just…tired.” Okay, that was the truth. Especially since it felt like she’d tossed and turned all night long, between dreams of John Evans and Donut Hunk.

It would be a loooong day today, and tomorrow, until she saw John Evans again.

When she got to Many Blessings, she’d hoped to dash upstairs to Mandaline’s apartment and pull herself together before her friend spotted her.

No such luck.

Mandaline stuck her head out the office doorway as soon as Sachi stepped through the back door. Then Mandaline’s gaze narrowed and she quickly walked to the back to block Sachi’s progress.

Mandaline planted her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Sachi held her tote bag in front of her, a totally ineffective barrier against her friend’s senses.

The witchy standoff lasted nearly a minute before Sachi felt her face heat. She pointed upstairs and stepped around her friend, who followed her up to the apartment over the store.

“Spill it,” Mandaline said.

Sachi set her tote bag in the bathroom and turned. “It happened again.”

“What happened again?”

“The aura.”

Mandaline’s brow went from furrowed to raised. “Oooh. Where? And who?”

She felt even more stupid explaining it. But when she finished with her story, Mandaline hugged her. “Maybe this is a good thing, right? You acknowledging you need to open yourself was what the Universe wanted to see before planting more opportunities in your path.”

“I don’t
need
opportunities,” Sachi grumbled. “I don’t want them, either. I just want some peace.”

“Maybe this is the peace you seek.”

“The peace I seek isn’t seeing hunks in Publix. The peace I seek is…” She let out a groan. “I don’t know what the hell peace I seek, but it’s not a piece of ass I’m seeking, that’s for damn sure.”

Mandaline grinned. “So says you. Maybe that’s not what the Universe says.”

“I’m taking a shower.” She returned to the bathroom and locked herself in. With the water as hot as she could stand it, she stood there, letting it soak through her.

Unfortunately, she knew it wouldn’t be hot enough to soak the memories of those gorgeous blue auras out of her mind.

Sachi, Mandaline, Brad, and Anna headed over to Tammy Evans’ house Sunday evening, arriving a little before six. It was a rural area, nearby properties sporting pastures with horses, cattle, and even the odd burro.

Her rambling, one-story ranch-style house sat about a hundred yards off a crumbling, pothole-ridden asphalt road, the clay dirt driveway curving through a gate and up to a gravel parking area next to the house. The front yard looked well-tended, the grass freshly mowed, beds of azaleas surrounding the bases of several large, drooping oak trees that shaded the yard. Behind the house, it looked like a narrow swath of mowed yard led into overgrown and partially wooded land.

“Looks like she needs a few pet goats to take care of that pasture,” Sachi muttered.

Two cars sat parked there already, so Mandaline pulled her Honda Element behind one of them and parked. As they got out, Brad handed Mandaline her hobo bag with the stuff she’d need for the initial walk-through. Tammy Evans emerged from the front door, smiling as they headed up the walkway leading to the entryway.

Sachi came to a sudden stop, Brad bumping into her, as she saw who emerged from the house behind Tammy.

John Evans and Donut Hunk.

Both of them still sporting delicious blue auras.

She must have let out a terrified
meep
, because Mandaline stopped and turned. “You all right?” she softly asked. They were still far enough away that Tammy and the men couldn’t hear her.

Sachi nodded, unable to take her eyes off the two men.

Mandaline frowned, glanced at the men, then back at Sachi before a beaming smile broke across her face.

Before Sachi could protest or run for the hills, Mandaline hooked an arm through Sachi’s and practically dragged her up the walk to where the three now stood waiting.

Sachi knew damn well Mandaline had figured out why she’d reacted the way she had.

Goddamned witch!

“What’s going on?” Brad muttered to Mandaline.

“I’ll fill you in later,” she whispered back. “Hi, Tammy?” she asked, still keeping her left arm hooked through Sachi’s as she reached out with her right. “I’m Mandaline Royce.”

The women shook. “It’s so good to meet you, dear. This is my nephew, John, and his friend, Oscar.”

Holy crap on a crap cracker, Donut Hunk is the roomie.

Mandaline introduced the rest of their group, Sachi nodding.

John smiled. “How’s your hot water heater doing?”

She nodded, forcing a smile she hoped looked real, or at least not totally dumbassish. “Great, thanks.”

“This is my friend, Oscar Weinstein,” John said.

Fanfreakingtastic, Donut Hunk has a name.

“We sort of bumped into each other at the grocery store Friday night,” Oscar said, his smile turning Sachi’s insides into something that might have oozed from Vesuvius when it wiped Pompeii off the farking map.