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He had been so, so mean. At first I’d been positive he was just trying to get me safely out of the house and away from the prospect of Meghan, but as our spat had dragged on, I started to wonder whether, perhaps, he really meant what he said — that I had only been a fleeting point of interest for him, just a little dalliance to pass the time in Rough and Ready. I bet that story would work on loads of girls, I thought grimly. Maybe he’s rehearsed this before.
I was getting paranoid. What if the match was his, and this was how Carter got stragglers out of his house?
I sighed. I couldn’t think about it any longer. My mind was chasing itself, trying to make sense of a senseless man, to rub my fingers through the gray matter of his mind and pull out meaning. What was the point? I wasn’t his therapist, and I wasn’t his girlfriend. I was nothing to Carter except, as he had said, a stranger.
With nothing else to do and a heavy heart to distract myself from, I wriggled deep into the pillows and opened my book.
CHAPTER 23
Carter
“WHEE!” HENRY cried as the truck sped ahead. “Faster, faster!”
I already had the pedal pressed almost all the way down, going a good twenty above what I’d normally do with Henry in the truck, my arm over his chest to make sure he didn’t go flying, even though he was strapped into his booster seat.
“We’re almost there,” I said, more to myself than him.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m dropping you off with Staten.”
Henry yelped with excitement. “Staten!”
Yeah, I knew that would make him happy.
Staten is an artistic expat who’d found his way to Rough and Ready. He lived on the edge of town in a converted airplane hangar, just him and several of his enormous sculptures that stood in and around his compound.
I’d never gotten the full tour of Staten’s place, but he’d been over to mine a few times. We were buddies, not close but friendly, and he watched Henry from time to time. I think looking after the kid perked him up a bit. I imagined it got lonely out there by himself. And Henry was a big fan of his. They would often paint together or plant trees — fun shit.
But, more importantly for my purposes, Staten was six-six, jacked, and ex-military, the kind of guy who looked like he could snatch a flying bullet in mid-air and crush it between two fingers. In other words, the kind of guy you wanna leave your kid with when your murderous ex-wife comes to town.
Maybe I could tell him to take Henry to the diner. That way they’d be right out in the open. Meghan wouldn’t do stuff in the open. It wasn’t her M.O. She liked the clandestine stuff.
We pulled to a stop outside Staten’s compound, and I lifted Henry out of the car. I hadn’t called ahead, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. Like I’ve said, there’s no time or obligation in Rough and Ready. Everyone is generally at home, or at a town event.
Sure enough, after two loud knocks on his corrugated metal door, I heard a rumbling from within.
“Who is it?”
“Carter. I have a favor to ask. Can I leave Henry with you?”
Moments later, the door was flung open, grating over the sliders. Staten grinned broadly, a dopey, puppy-dog look that was at odds with the general intimidation of his tattooed biceps, which put even my own to shame.
“Aw, hey Carter!” he cried. “Of course, I’d love to.”
He took Henry carefully out of my arms and into his own.
“Hi!” Henry chirped at Staten, who patted Henry’s head.
“We’ll be good here,” the former soldier told me. “You look like you got business to take care of.”
“That I do,” I muttered. “’Preciate it, Staten.”
He loosed a hand from beneath Henry’s legs, and shook mine. “Be careful out there.”
Words from the wise.
Confident that Henry would be safe, I got back in the truck and pushed it into gear. I had one more task to take care of before I could retrieve Henry, and I hadn’t wanted my son to be present for it, lest things get dicey again. Besides, Meghan’s focus had always been me. If she had to choose one of us to follow, it’d be me.
I clung to the steering wheel as though that single, unmoving object would somehow keep me grounded.
Going near a hundred an hour, it didn’t take me long to screech to a halt out front of Big Bob’s repair shop.
“What are you doing here?” Big Bob called from inside the shop, his legs stretched out on a folding chair.
“I still work here, don’t I?”
Big Bob mumbled some flavorful words, but said, “Guess so. Nobody else around that got your skill.”
