Rednecks 'N' Roses (2 page)

Fingers buried in her hair, Amber froze.

That was a man’s voice.

Slowly, she turned and peered through the strands of hair dangling before her eyes.

The man who faced her wore what looked like a police uniform. A white car trimmed in green and yellow with “Juniata County Sheriff” printed on the side was parked next to her muddy Blazer.

“Umm…”

The sheriff planted his hands on his hips.

“My cat is stuck under the porch?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Stuck?”

Blowing the hair out of her face, Amber straightened to her full five-feet-eleven-inches and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, so there was a spider. I hate spiders. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Name’s Brad Keister.” He nodded toward his car. “I’m the sheriff. Who are you? This is private property, you know.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m Amber Blake and this is my property.” Pursing his lips, he nodded. “Heard Mrs. Myers finally passed on and left the property to a niece. You intend to live here?”

Amber sighed. Nosy sheriff. But he was the law and she’d be better off not irritating him at their first meeting. “Yes, for the next six months or so. I got downsized out of my job and it seemed like coming here for a while was a good idea.”

“What you gonna do?”

“I beg your pardon?”

The sheriff scowled. “What you gonna do all day? You aren’t one of those city-slicker types who want to party all night then sleep all day, are you? Neighbors won’t take kindly to it.” Amber blinked. “Neighbors?” She lifted her arm and pointed to the woods surrounding the property.

“What neighbors? Nobody even knows I’m here except you.” He shook his head. “Everybody knows you’re here now. Sadie Dunkelburger, the woman who lives across the road from your driveway, phoned my office and said a strange car had turned in here. I was close so figured I’d just drive in to make sure no one was up to any mischief. You can be sure that as soon as Sadie hung up from my office, she was calling everyone she knew to tell them about someone driving in to the Myers’ place.”

“Great, a nosy old lady is my closest neighbor,” Amber mumbled mostly to herself.

He opened his mouth but before he could answer, a sharp crack exploded from the woods in front of the house.

Amber jumped. “What was that?”

The sheriff spun toward his car. “Damn Nipples poking around where they aren’t supposed to be again.”

Amber started. Nipples? She looked down at her tee-shirt. Nothing. Her nipples weren’t poking out.

What the hell was this crazy sheriff talking about?

“What’s going on?”

“Poachers. Guys hunting out of season,” he answered over his shoulder as he yanked open the car door.

Amber’s stomach dropped to the ground. “Poaching? Somebody is shooting a gun? Here?” Flinching, she scrunched down and jerked her head from side to side.

Another gunshot. This one sounded closer.

She scrabbled after the sheriff. “You can’t leave me here alone! There’s someone with a gun out there.”

Half in his car, the sheriff took the time to grin at her. “Don’t worry. Nobody is going to shoot at you.

But if it makes you feel better, there are three shotguns and a deer rifle in the closet of the front bedroom. Ammunition is in the top dresser drawer.” He slid into the car, slammed the door, gunned the engine and tore away down the driveway.

Small chunks of mud bombarded the ground at Amber’s feet and she jumped back.
Guns?

Ammunition? In my house? And how the hell does he know?
Shuddering, she flopped down on her behind and gaped at the now-empty driveway.

“Meeeeeerrroooooow?” Midnight rubbed her head against Amber’s knee.

Leaning over, she gathered the cat into her arms. “Sure, now you come out.” Tilting her head back, she looked up at the sky and closed her eyes. “Some moron is out there shooting a gun, the sheriff thinks I’m an idiot and the local busybody is already spying on me. Maybe Mandi was right and I should have stayed in Philadelphia.”

Dampness seeped into the seat of her pants.

Shivering, she struggled to her feet, the fluffy cat held firmly in her arms. “Well, we’re here now.” She looked down into Midnight’s face. “No more running after rabbits. What in the world would you do with it if you caught it anyway?” She shook her head. “Come on, let’s see what our new home looks like.”

With one last sigh, Amber cuddled her cat in her arms and marched up the steps.

Tucking one hand under Midnight’s stomach, she balanced the cat on her arm and pulled the rusty screen door open.

It squeaked.

“At least I know how to oil a door,” she mumbled to the cat. Then she grabbed the doorknob of the inner door. “Oh, shit. The key’s in my purse.”

She rattled the knob.

The door swung open.

She shifted the heavy cat to her other arm. “Oh great. It wasn’t even locked. I wouldn’t be surprised if everything has been stolen.”

Pushing the door open, she stepped partway into the living room.

The screen door hit her in the ass as it swung shut.

“Ouch! Damn it.” Slapping her hand against the wall, she found the light switch and flipped it up.

Soft light from a ceiling fixture flooded the room.

“The lawyer said the electricity would be turned on. I’ll have to contact the phone company, though.

Good thing I have a cell phone.”

Dropping Midnight at her feet, she stepped further into the room. A comfortable-looking sofa sat before a huge fireplace that stretched across the back wall of the room. Two leather chairs flanked a table in front of a large window. To her left, a carved staircase led to a small landing then turned at a right angle toward the second floor.

Amber stepped further into the room and pulled the heavy blue curtains apart. A large, dusty picture window with an intricate stained glass design bordering the top and two sides appeared.

“Oh my. This window is beautiful.”

After a quick look outside—she didn’t see anything except trees -- Amber turned and headed toward the door to the left of the fireplace. “Guess the kitchen is this way. Come on, Midnight.” Her cat pacing behind her, she strode toward the back of the house. “I sure hope there’s a bathroom back here.”

The kitchen was surprisingly large, the appliances not too old. The door on the left led to a small dining room. The one on the right to a smaller laundry room that contained an almost new washer and dryer—and a sink and toilet.

“Thank goodness! And there’s even toilet paper.”

A few minutes later, Amber was back in the kitchen. She looked down at her cat. “Guess I should unload before it gets any later.”

Half an hour later, all the possessions she’d brought with her were piled on the living room floor—

except for Aunt Ernestine’s urn. That sat on the table next to the front door.

Amber stared at it and sighed.

Midnight meowed and danced a little dance.

She looked around the room, then at her pile of belongings. “Litter box. I better set that up in the laundry room right away, huh? It will fit under that table. Cat food stays down here too, and the supplies I brought. Guess I should get the stuff out of the cooler and put it in the fridge. She tucked the litter box under her arm and grabbed the bag of cat litter with her left hand. Grasping the handle of the cooler with her right, she lifted the end and wheeled it into the kitchen.

Midnight was curled on top of one of her suitcases when she returned fifteen minutes later.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me? I thought you wanted to use your litter box.” Midnight yawned then licked her paw.

Mumbling something about cats, Amber lifted the case holding her laptop. “I’m going to turn that small dining room off the kitchen into an office. There’s a nice view of the hill with the wild roses and the forest behind it from there. It should be a good place to write.” She frowned and shook her head.

“A vampire hero. Who would have thought they could ever be so popular. Lord knows, thanks to Mandi, I’ve seen enough of Buffy, Spike and Angel, not to mention every Dracula movie ever made, so that I should be able to figure out how to write one.” Midnight yawned again.

Amber stared at the case in her hand then looked out the window. The front of the house faced east, and she could barely make out her car in the fading light. The kitchen wasn’t much brighter even though it faced west. Once the sun slipped down behind the woods, the darkness spread quickly. “This can wait. I’m tired. There’s supposed to be a modern bathroom upstairs. I’m going to take a hot shower and go to bed.” She bent and stroked Midnight. “Your bowls of food and water are in the kitchen.”

Grabbing her overnight bag—and the broom she’d brought with her—she headed up the steps, grimacing as dust rose when she grabbed the stair rail. “I’ll be spending the next week cleaning. I hate to clean.”

At the top of the steps, she flipped the light switch and stepped into the small hallway. Four doors stood open.

Turning right, she walked the short distance to the doorway at the end of the hall, felt inside and flipped the light switch. The room was small and contained only an unmade single bed and a small dresser. Broom extended before her, she eyed the corners of the ceiling. No spiders. Good.

She turned off the light and turned left and reached in that doorway for the light switch. A slightly larger room, bare except for a large, old-fashioned trunk. She checked the corners. No spiders here either. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Sneezing, Amber turned off the light and walked to the other end of the hallway. Stepping into the doorway on the right, she jumped, flailing her hands around when something bumped against her forehead. “Bats! There better not be bats in this house.” Her fingers brushed against a swinging chain and she chuckled weakly. Grabbing it, she pulled. Light flooded the room and a ceiling fan began to spin slowly. This room was larger. A double bed, draped with a dust cover, was pushed against the wall. A matching bureau and dresser were pushed against another. Sliding doors on the left wall indicated a good sized closet.

“Thank goodness for the dust cover,” Amber muttered as she set the broom against the wall and carefully removed the dust cover from the bed, folding it over on itself. At least she wouldn’t spend the night sneezing. And she didn’t have to worry about sheets either. She’d brought her own, but if she didn’t feel like making the bed, she could always use her sleeping bag. She’d see how she felt after her shower.

Leaving the light on, she headed for the last doorway. It had to be the bathroom.

Again, the light switch was just inside the door. After flipping it on, Amber looked around. Obviously a converted bedroom, the bathroom was larger than she’d thought it would be.

“Mmmm. I can put some plants in here. But that shower curtain has got to go. Dark blue with green fish. Yuck. Who picked that out?”

Grabbing the curtain, she yanked it back.

A bushy-bearded, long-haired, redheaded man wearing a brown flannel shirt and bib overalls lay in the old claw-footed tub.

Speechless, Amber stared.

He didn’t move and he was very pale.

Realization dawned.

“Oh my God! There’s a dead man in my bathtub!”

Amber stumbled back, tripped against the toilet—which had the seat up—and fell in. Water splashed as her legs flailed. She grabbed the toilet paper dispenser and pulled herself out. More water slopped onto the floor and soaked into the seat of her jeans.

Her gaze never left the body in the tub. “Oh my God! Oh my God! He’s dead. There’s a dead man in my bathtub. What do I do? What do I do? Think, Amber, think. 911. I have to call 911. Purse. I need my purse. Downstairs. My cell is in my purse.”

Sneakers squishing, she sprinted out of the bathroom and down the stairs and skidded to a stop before the belongings she had piled at the bottom of the staircase. Clammy jeans sticking to her thighs and ass, she tossed boxes and bags willy-nilly. “It’s here somewhere. I know it is. I set it right next to the steps. Come on. Come on. Come on. I need my damn phone!” As the last box bounced off the wall, Amber grabbed her purse and upended it. Everything inside clattered to the floor and bounced or skidded in all directions off the hardwood. Her phone slid toward the kitchen.

She dove after it, banging her elbow against the floor, leaving a thin streak of water behind her. When she grabbed the phone, it slipped out of her hand. She caught it in her left hand and punched in 911

with her right. Struggling to her knees, she held the phone to her ear.

Nothing.

“No! The battery can’t be dead. I just charged it.”

She glared at the screen. No signal.

“Fuck! What am I supposed to do now? There’s a dead man in my bathtub.” He woke the same way he had awakened for the last month and a half. One minute he was dead to the world, the next he was wide awake.

This time, something was different.

A heavy weight had settled on his chest.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

A large, hairy, black blob with a pair of yellow eyes stared back at him—crossed eyes.

Below the eyes, a pair of pointy, ivory teeth stuck up at a slight angle—like a vee.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

As he leaped to his feet, the hairy blob flew through the air and landed in a puddle of water in front of the toilet.

“Meeeeerrroooooooowwwlllllll!” it yowled as it scrabbled through the puddle and shot toward the door. It bounced off the jamb, shook its head and scooted out the door.

“A cat. A fucking, cross-eyed, black cat! With goofy teeth. What the hell is going on here?” Stepping out of the tub, he strode through the door and headed for the stairs.

Amber continued to punch 911 into her cell phone, hold it to her ear, then punch in 911 again. “Work, damn it. You have to work. What the hell am I supposed to do? My God. There’s a dead man in my bathtub. I can’t stay here. I can’t stay with a dead man.” Caterwauling, Midnight tumbled down the steps and leaped into her arms—well, almost. Because of her crossed eyes, she misjudged her leap again and landed to Amber’s left. Digging her claws into her human’s leg, she scrambled into her lap.

The phone bounced across the floor when Amber dropped it to grab her thigh. “Eyoooow! Midnight!

Stop that. I have enough problems without you skinning me alive.”

“Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?” At the sound of the angry male voice, Amber froze. Then she pushed Midnight off her lap, rolled to the fireplace and grabbed the poker. Grasping it in both hands, she rose to face her assailant.

The dead man from the bathtub stood on the bottom step and stared at her.

Her mouth dropped open.

She snapped it shut and raised the poker. “You’re dead.” He crossed his arms over his bushy beard and stepped down. “Do I look dead?” Amber’s knuckles whitened as she clasped the poker more tightly. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?”

Green fire flashed in his emerald eyes as he stroked his beard. “I live here.”

“No you don’t. This house belongs to my Aunt Ernestine. Er, it did before she died. Now it belongs to me.”

He frowned. “You mean old lady Myers finally kicked the bucket?” Amber swallowed. “Last month. This property was left to me. I’m her niece.” He raked his long hair behind his ears. “Well, fuck.”

Amber nodded. He was listening to her. That was good. Right? “I told you the house is mine.” He glared first at her then down at her belongings. “You can’t move in here. I live here.” Beside her, Midnight hissed, arched her back and fluffed out her already fluffy fur.

“Not anymore. Now get lost before I call the cops.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “Phone’s not hooked up.” Reaching out with her foot, she pulled her cell phone toward her. “I have one of my own.” His grin widened. “No signal here.”

Amber swallowed then gritted her teeth. If he was going to attack her, he’d have done it by now?

Right? Her gaze drifted to his mouth. Damn but he had beautiful white teeth and a nice smile. His eyes were nice too, an absolutely gorgeous green. But all that hair all over his face—yuk!

Her subconscious slapped her attention away from his face.
Holy shit, Amber. What are you thinking?

There’s a man, a big man, in your house. For all you know he’s an ax murderer or rapist or serial
killer or something. You have to get him out of here.
“Listen. You leave now and there won’t be any trouble. The sheriff was just here, you know. He knows I’m living here.” He cocked his head to the side. “Brad was here?”

Amber blinked. He calls the sheriff by his first name? What was he, a relative or something? “Who are you anyway?”

He scratched under his beard. “Rusty Nipple.”

Amber stared. Did he just say what she thought he said. “I beg your pardon?”

“Rusty Nipple.”

She gulped then choked. The poker wavered as her shoulders began to shake. She coughed and choked again. “Nipple? Rusty Nipple?” Another gulp and choke. “Your name is Rusty Nipple? What kind of name is that?” A gurgling snort and a hiccup. “It sounds like a really bad mixed drink. Oh my God. I’m dreaming, aren’t I? I was in an accident, wasn’t I? I’m lying in a hospital in a coma. Rusty Nipple! What real person would admit to the name Rusty Nipple? This isn’t real. I’m in the
Twilight
Zone
.” The poker clattered to the floor. Amber followed, laughing until the tears ran down her cheeks.

Rusty stared at the tall blonde who lay on the floor with her back to him, arms wrapped around her sides, laughing hysterically. Soaked jeans were plastered to her thighs, hips and butt. He focused on her ass. It was a nice ass, the kind a man could grab hold of while he was burying his cock deep inside.

Did the rest of her look as good?

He caught hold of his thoughts. Hell, Nipple, get your mind off of her ass and back on the important stuff—like what the fuck she’s doing here. You need a place to stay and you can’t go back home. And there aren’t that many unoccupied houses around here. You gotta get rid of her.

He looked around at the boxes and suitcases. Lots of them.

And her cat glared at him out of those goofy crossed eyes. The tip of its pink tongue was wedged in the vee of its teeth. Fuckin' spooky, that cat. Shit, but he hated cats. Give him a good old hound dog any day.

Rusty looked around the room again. Yep, she looked like she was moving in to stay. He had to get rid of both of the cat and her. Best way would be to let her see what he really was. First though, he had to get her attention. She had to stop laughing.

“Hey lady, you gonna lay there laughing all night or what? And what the hell is the matter with my name, anyway?”

At the sound of his voice, Amber rolled over. His name might be ridiculous but he had a nice tenor voice.

After sucking in a few deep breaths of air, she pushed herself to her feet.

“Listen, Mr.-er-Nipple.” A few giggles escaped. “This is my house, not yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned widely. “How about a compromise? I live here now.

You come back in about six months or so.” His teeth seemed to get whiter.

At her side, Midnight’s hiss became a high-pitched growl.

Amber shook her head. “Nope. I was downsized out of my job. I don’t have anywhere else to go.

Besides, I need a nice quiet place to write my novel.” His grin widened. “A novel? About what?”

Amber stared. How could anyone’s teeth get brighter—no, longer—and pointier?

She leaned closer and stared at his teeth, his very long, very sharp, canine teeth. The ones that were curling down over his bottom lip.

What the hell? Then, realization dawned and she forgot to breathe. Holy shit! The dead man in her bathtub was a vampire.

How lucky could a girl get?