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Laura paused at this, she had never told anyone about the incident up in the Hungry Hollow gorge. “Just an old acquaintance.”
Thankfully behind her, she heard him hang up and was able to turn away from the questioning stares of the teenage girls. Just as quickly, he picked up the receiver once more and began dialing.
Laura frowned. “What did they say?”
“Forty minutes.”
“Who are you calling now?”
“Taxi.”
“I can take you back.”
He ignored her, speaking into the receiver, “Could I have a taxi sent—”
Without thinking, Laura reached over and hung up on him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Laura frowned at his foul language in front of the teenage girls but decided to leave it alone. She had another fight on her hands. “Since you're here, it wouldn't hurt to have a look around. See for yourself—”
“No way.”
“Why not? You may just have a change of heart.” The look he shot her spoke volumes. “All right, wrong choice of words but maybe you'll see something worth saving.”
He looked uneasy as his glance slid from the girls to Laura. Then his mouth shut in a harsh grimace as he muttered, “Make it fast.”
She couldn't help but smile, thankful for the girl’s influence. Naturally he didn't smile back but simply followed her, brooding.
Her quick tour included the original parlor presently used as the TV room and library where the sculptured built-in bookshelves were full of used books from the local book exchange. It also substituted as their nightly group meetings room. Across the hall was the large dining room that had no difficulty seating all nine occupants.
Upstairs, she indicated the rooms where the girls slept without actually showing him, knowing full well teenager's desire for privacy. It was after she explained that one girl, Ingrid Mansfield, occupied the small cramped quarters of the attic that he finally asked his first question.
“Where do you sleep?”
She blushed even knowing his question was far from personal. “Downstairs, off the kitchen.”
His brows drew together. “I thought it was a laundry room?”
“It is.” She looked away, suddenly embarrassed to admit she slept in a laundry room.
Dexter's brows drew together in obvious disapproval, before shaking his head and turning toward the staircase. “Is that all, then?”
“No, not yet.” She went over and took his arm in her hand. “There's someone I want you to meet.”
Not certain why he allowed her to draw him down the small corridor, but he found himself following. The feel of her soft touch on his arm left him with an uncomfortable yet fully aware sensation. One he would rather ignore. Knowing he appeared inane, but not caring, he shrugged her touch away. The action received a tilt of her beautiful profile, acknowledging the action before she turned and knocked on a door.
Beautiful? Good Lord! Where did that word suddenly come from? He had better watch himself. Her bewitching ways were casting a spell on his unwarranted affections.
Affections? Where the devil were flowery worlds like these coming from? Suddenly he had a great urge to get out of the house. A thickness in the air had him feeling tense.
“Look, I better be going. I—” His words trailed off as they entered one of the bedrooms and a young girl around the age of fifteen greeted them with a smile from her position across the foot of a bed. Around her neck was a set of headphones she was in the process of removing.
“Dexter, I want you to meet our youngest occupant.”
He nodded politely
but indifferently at the girl.
