The Comeback Kiss (10 page)

Dana released a sigh. “
Oh, God. Tell me you didn
’
t strand him there on purpose.”

“
He hadn
’
t spoken to his uncle, the man who raised him from the age of six, in ten
years. Of course I stranded him there on purpose. But it was meant to be only for a day or so, and getting him out is proving to be a bit of a sticky wicket.”
Babs held a plastic bag up to the light. “
Okay, now
those
I know are carrots.”

“
You
’
re not cookin
g, are you? Remember Great-aunt Corrine.”

Babs pulled out a bag of tiny, brown onion-looking things. “
Who in the world yanked these things out of the earth and decided to eat them? I mean, what would possess a person to do such a thing?”

“
Oh, I don
’
t know,
”
Dana said. “
People get weird when they
’
re about to starve. Back to Finn... what are you going to do?”

Babs sighed. “
I can
’
t identify the shallots.”

“
Focus, please,”
Dana said. “
We
’
re talking about Finn. You can
’
t just leave him there.”

“
Oh, I
’
m not going
to just leave him there,”
Babs said. “
What kind of person do you think I am? I
’
ll bring him a car myself if I have to.”
She gave a short laugh as a thought hit her. “
Do you know I
’
ve never been to Vermont?”

At that moment, a petulant screech assaulted her
eardrums. She wheeled around to discover that the skillet had burst into flames.

“
Oh, dear. Big fire,”
she said, and dropped the phone. As the alarm wailed on, she calmly yanked the cute little red fire extinguisher off the wall, pulled the pin, and cover
ed her range top with white foam. When she was done, she flicked off the gas, turned the extinguisher upside down, and swung it at the fire alarm, dismantling the horrid thing with one careful blow. She put the fire extinguisher down, wiped her hands on h
e
r apron, and picked up the phone to hear both Dana and her husband, Nick, calling her name frantically.

“
I
’
m fine,”
Babs said. “
If there
’
s one thing my people know how to do, it
’
s put out a kitchen fire.”

“
Mom!”
Dana sputtered. “
You scared me half to death
!”

“
Babs,”
Nick
’
s voice came through over Dana
’
s; he must have gotten on their other extension. “
Are you okay?”

“
Don
’
t ever say
‘
big fire
’
and just drop the phone like that ever, ever again!”
Dana said.

“
You would prefer I stayed on the phone and burned
up in the big fire?”

Short pause. “
Well, no, of course not, but...”

“
Babs,”
Nick said again, his voice insistent, but calm. “
Are you hurt?”

Babs puffed some air upward to get a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. “
I
’
m fine. I have to go; my alarm is wi
red to alert the NYFD and they
’
ll be here any minute. If you need me anytime in the next few days, call me on my cell phone. I
’
ll be leaving for Vermont first thing in the morning.”

“
Vermont?”
Nick asked.

“
Long story,”
Dana said.

“
Love you both,”
Babs said
in a singsong voice. “
Now, go make me a grandchild.”

She clicked the phone off and opened the drawer that held her yellow pages, flipping through them as she hit speed dial.

“
Demetrios?”
she said when the familiar voice answered. “
This is Babs McGregor. C
an you deliver the usual?”

“
Absolutely, Mrs. McGregor,”
Demetrios said in his thick Greek accent. “
Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“
Yes, actually,”
she said as her fingers traced over the yellow pages to Automobile Rentals. “
Can you recommend
a good car rental place?”

***

“
No dogs.”

Finn glanced at the bartender, a big, hulking guy he didn
’
t recognize, and decided to name him Surly. “
What?”

Surly jerked his chin at Finn
’
s feet. Finn glanced down as the dog shuttled past him.

“
Not my dog,”
he
said, and ambled toward the bar, watching with mild amusement as Surly zipped out from behind the bar and approached the dog, first trying to nudge it back outside with his foot, then pushing with his hands. Finn had to give the dog its due; it managed to
hold its ground without resorting to so much as a growl, living on sheer piss and vinegar and the ability to wriggle out of Surly
’
s grip like a greased pig. After a while, someone in the back yelled, “
Let him stay. This place is dirtier than that dog, any
w
ay.”
Muttering some parting-shot curses at the dog, Surly returned to the bar, giving Finn a black look as he did.

“
What
’
ll it be?”

“
Pepsi,”
Finn said. Surly watched him for a moment.

“
Just a Pepsi?”
he asked finally.

“
What, you don
’
t have Pepsi?”
Finn ask
ed, keeping his expression flat as he felt the damn dog nestle down under his bar stool. The bartender muttered something under his breath and poured Finn
’
s drink from the fountain. Finn spun around on his stool and checked out Riker
’
s. It hadn
’
t changed
m
uch, still didn
’
t live up to the toughness of its name. While Riker
’
s tried real hard to get the dive thing going with the wood-paneled walls and cheap lighting accented by neon beer signs, it was still a small-town bar in picturesque Vermont. Hell, back
i
n the day, Riker
’
s had been the Sunday afternoon meeting place for the Lucy
’
s Lake Knit Wits. There was an array of hand-knitted coasters on the tables that indicated it probably still was.

Finn let his eyes wander over to the pool table, analyzing the pos
sibilities for picking up some extra cash that night. The first pool game he
’
d ever hustled had been at Riker
’
s Island, and the first rule of pool hustling was to never hit the same place twice, but since he hadn
’
t been to Riker
’
s in well over a decade he
figured he might be able to bend that rule just a bit.

“
No chance,”
a voice grumbled over his shoulder. He didn
’
t need to turn his head to know who it was.

“
Bottle of Guinness, Russell,”
Joe said as he settled on the stool next to Finn
’
s. Finn glanced at t
he bartender.

Russell?
Nope, guy was a Surly if ever he saw one. Finn turned his attention back to the pool table. Three guys. No waiting. The only problem was...

Joe turned on his seat as well, back to the bar, and tilted the neck of his beer bottle in th
e direction of the guy lining up a bank shot. “
Don
’
t even try it. That
’
s Tony Dale.”

Finn blinked and looked closer, realizing that Joe was right. Finn
’
s old geometry teacher took the bank shot and missed, and Finn mourned an opportunity lost. The second r
ule of hustling was to never take anyone who could identify you to the police by name. He reached for his Pepsi and took a sip.

Still, hanging out at Riker
’
s beat the hell out of hanging out in Lowery
’
s shack. Not by a wide margin, granted, but it was eith
er this place or the ancient Pac-Man console at the Gas
’
n Sip.

“
Nice dog,”
Joe said flatly.

Finn kept his eyes on the pool game. “
Not my dog.”

More silence. Finn could feel the cold air coming off Joe in waves. The two of them had never exactly gotten alo
ng, but now Joe was acting seriously pissed off. Which begged the question...

“
What are you doing here, bro?”
Finn said. “
Trying to keep me out of trouble?”

“
No,”
Joe said, his voice flat. “
I gave up on that a while back.”
He took a sip of his beer. “
But I
do have something to say, and if you end up hanging around, I just want it said.”

Joe paused. Finn sipped his drink. Neither one looked at the other.

“
Left my crystal ball at home, man,”
Finn said finally.

“
Leave her alone.”
The warning was so low, Finn a
lmost wasn
’
t sure he
’
d heard right, but when he turned to look at Joe, he knew he had.

“
Something going on with you two?”
he asked, disturbed by how much the thought disturbed him. What Tessa did was none of his business, although he knew in his gut that T
essa never would have kissed him if she was with anyone, and especially not if she was with Joe. It was a cold comfort, but it was something.

“
Not at the moment, no,”
Joe said.

Finn caught that one square in the chest. “
So, by not at the moment, you mean..
.?”

“
We dated. Briefly. A few years back.”

Finn sipped his drink, trying to guess what kind of body-snatching alien attack would result in Tessa
’
s dating Joe. Because it would have to have been a body-snatching alien attack.

“
No kidding,”
he said finally.
“
Who knew we
’
d ever have something in common?”

Joe shot a look at Finn. “
I don
’
t want to see her get hurt.”

“
Something else we have in common,”
Finn said.

“
Good.”
Joe took a sip of his beer. “
Then you
’
ll be leaving her alone.”

“
You may not have noticed du
ring the few weeks you were dating
—”

“
Months.”

“
Whatever.”
Months? Christ.
“
Tessa can take care of herself.”

“
Yeah,”
Joe said. “
She can. But she
’
s stupid when it comes to you. Always has been.”

“
Do you use that kind of sweet talk on her? Because that might
be your problem.”

“
I don
’
t have a problem,”
Joe said.

Finn watched his brother for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the pool game. “
Glad to hear it.”

They each took a drink, then Joe was the next to speak. “
You didn
’
t happen to see anything unusual
at Vickie
’
s this morning?”