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“I’m afraid Ridley’s right.” Uncle Macon sighed. “I’ll wait here.”
“I don’t think it will work if you’re here, sir. You’re a scary kinda person, too,” Link said as respectfully as possible. “Sir.”
“We are not leaving The Book of Moons unattended, Mr. Lincoln.”
An idea took hold slowly, stretching out until it was perfectly formed. “Maybe we don’t need someone to stay with the Book, but something.”
“Huh?” Link scratched his head.
I bent down. “Boo, come here, boy.”
Boo Radley stood up and shook his black fur, which was as thick as a wolf’s.
I dug my fingers behind his ears. “That’s my good boy.”
“Not a bad idea.” Rid put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.
“You really think one dog can fight off the Blood Pack if they show up?” Link asked.
Uncle Macon crossed his arms. “Boo Radley is hardly a common dog.”
“Even a Caster dog can use a little help,” Rid said.
A branch cracked, and something leaped from the bushes.
“Holy crap!” Link yanked the garden shears out of his waistband just as Bade’s paws hit the ground.
Leah Ravenwood’s enormous mountain cat growled.
Uncle M smiled. “My sister’s cat. An excellent idea. She does provide a certain level of intimidation that Boo lacks.”
Boo barked, offended.
“Here, kitty kitty….” Ridley reached out her hand, and Bade stalked over.
Link stared at her. “You’re a total psycho.”
Bade growled at Link again, and Rid laughed. “You’re just mad because Bade doesn’t like you, Hot Stuff.”
John took a step back. “Yeah, well, I’m not petting her either.”
“So we leave the Book for a little while and see what happens.” I hugged Boo. “You stay here.” The Caster dog sat down in front of the grave like a guard dog, and Bade came over and stretched out in front of him lazily.
I stood up, but I was having trouble forcing myself to walk away.
What if something happened to it? The Book might be Ethan’s only chance to get back to me. Could I risk it?
John noticed I wasn’t moving, and pointed to the rise a few yards beyond the grave. “We can hang out on the other side in case they need some backup. Okay?”
Ridley hopped off the headstone, her platforms smacking against the border of the plot. In the South, that had to be the equivalent of something like seven years of bad luck. Maybe more in Gatlin.
She draped her arm over my shoulders and waved a lollipop in front of me. “Come on. I’ll tell you all about my adventures in shackles.”
Link jogged up next to us. “Did you say shackles? Those are like handcuffs, right?” He seemed a little too excited about hearing the details.
“Mr. Lincoln!” Uncle M looked like he wanted to strangle him.
Link stopped in his tracks. “Uh, sorry, sir. It was just a joke. You know…”
