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“It’s self-serve, what do you need me for?” he was saying as he rounded the pump. Then he caught sight of her, and his expression changed to flirtatious. “Never mind. How can I help you, Red?”
Molly didn’t really like it when people called her Red, since that was the name of her car, but she wasn’t about to complain. If this kid liked older women, he must know all about Lila. She put on her most charming smile. “I’m actually not in the market for gas at the moment, seeing as I’m on foot. I’m looking for someone.”
“You found him.” He leered. He was good-looking, she had to give him that, tall and strapping and Viking-ish. But he had to be a good ten years younger than her. He wore loose grease-stained canvas pants and a hoodie with an image of ram’s horns, and he didn’t seem bothered by the cold. Despite his obvious attractiveness, he didn’t grab her attention the way…well, the way Sam the Pilot did.
“It’s a her. I’m looking for a woman.”
“Any woman or…”
“A specific woman. A friend. I think she might be here in Firelight Ridge, but I’m not sure.”
His expression grew wary. “Why aren’t you sure? Didn’t she tell you she was here?”
“Not in so many words, but she did leave a few clues.”
The mechanic shook his head and turned to leave. “Sometimes people come here because they don’t want to be found. I wouldn’t mess that up for…someone.”
Molly pounced on the brief hesitation between “for” and “someone.” It was the kind of detail that could win a case during cross-examination. “You know who I’m talking about. There can’t be too many people who show up here out of the blue before the tourist season opens. You were about to say ‘I wouldn’t mess that up for her,’ weren’t you?”
“What are you, some kind of federal agent? Investigator? ATF?”
“What? No. Why would the ATF be interested in…never mind that. I told you, she’s my friend, my oldest and best friend.”
“Some best friend, won’t even tell you where she is.”
“See, that’s Lila for you. She can be…mysterious.” As she dropped Lila’s name, she watched him closely for any signs of recognition. Nothing. Either Lila was using a different name, or this young man was used to hiding his reactions to a nearly pathological degree, or…Lila wasn’t here.
“What if you have a beef with her, whoever she is, and she came all the way to Firelight Ridge to avoid you?”
“We have no beef. Not since the age of sixteen when she stole my secret crush by mistake. It wasn’t even her fault, because I’d never told her about it, and she broke up with him as soon as she found out and broke the poor guy’s heart. Believe me, I’m not holding onto a grudge from high school.”
He shrugged. “So you say. Just because you look like a movie star…maybe more of a sitcom…and smell nice, doesn’t mean you’re telling the truth.”
“A sitcom?”
“The smart-mouth redhead. It’s a common sitcom trope.” At her look of surprise, he added, “We watch a lot of TV around here in the winter. Saves us from going feral.”
Feral. The kid had a decent vocabulary. Honestly, she was starting to find him pretty unexpected and appealing.
He pulled up his hood to shield himself from a gust of wind. “Listen, sorry I can’t help. If you ever need gas, I’m here. Or diesel, propane, or, you know.” He pulled out another leer, then dropped it when she rolled her eyes. “Where are you from, anyway?”
“Out of town,” she snapped. Why should she give him any more information than he’d given her?
He let out a booming laugh. “Good one. Okay then, Red, I gotta get back to my tranny. It won’t rebuild itself.”
“Tranny? No one uses that word anymore. It’s offensive.”
His handsome forehead creased, then he snorted. “Yeah it is. If anyone ever uses it around me, they’ll get clocked on the spot. Least I could do for my brother.” He offered his hand for a fist bump, which she was too surprised to reject.
Learn not to prejudge people, she told herself as she trudged down the icy margin of the graveled main road. Just because he was young and horny didn’t mean he was dumb.
The next businesses she passed were closed until summer. She spotted a bakery, the Caribou Grill, a Native art gallery, a whitewater rafting service, a “Miner’s Museum,” a Fish and Game Department office, a medical clinic.
Medical clinic? How did they manage without that here in the winter?
At least all three bars were open. She decided to try them in order of seediness, leaving the worst for last. Lila was unlikely to be hanging out in a bar, but if she was, it would be the most quiet and upmarket. Lila was sensitive to loud sounds and intense smells. Molly couldn’t imagine her spending much time in a liquor-soaked dive bar such as the … she squinted at the name. The Fart? No, The Fang. Of course. Fangtooth.
She was starting to understand why Sam used the name Fangtooth. It still suited the town, at least some aspects of it. But Firelight Ridge did too. As she glanced up at the mountains that ringed the town, she saw the sunset light turning the entire ridge to vivid orange and red and copper, like flames flickering through the clouds that had piled up against the mountains.
