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“Unmanageable?” What the hell was Maggie? A horse?
“This is the truth. Don’t you know what they say about redheads?”
Cain was almost afraid to ask.
Old Man Lawrence lowered his voice. “They’ve got the fire of a witch inside them and can be one of two things.”
Cain grabbed his bait. He couldn’t wait to hear what his choices were.
“She can be the greatest pleasure you’ll ever encounter, or…”
Cain struggled to hide a grin.
“She’ll be the death of you…bad luck.”
“Bullshit.” He shivered as the damp air of the store
rolled over his shoulders, and opened his mouth but closed it again.
The elderly gentlemen looked so serious that for a moment Cain didn’t know quite what to say. All of a sudden Mr. Lawrence’s face crinkled and he guffawed loudly, slapping his hand onto the counter as laughter rolled out of his mouth.
“I’m just teasing, son, though no one really knows much about this Maggie. She could be a serial killer for all we know…like a black widow.”
The man had been watching way too many thrillers. Cain shook his head and smiled. “Take it easy, Mr. Lawrence, and give my best to your wife.”
“I will. And Cain?”
“Yeah?” He paused in the doorway.
“Sure is good to have you boys back here.”
He nodded but said nothing as he cleared his throat. He had a feeling he needed this town more than they needed him, but that was a secret he’d keep to himself.
Cain slid into this truck.
In the meantime, he planned on getting to know Maggie O’Rourke a whole lot better than anyone else in Crystal Lake. He slipped the SUV into gear and cranked the tunes, grinning as “Summer Nights,” an old Van Halen song, erupted into the quiet.
Hell, yeah.
“Summer nights and my radio…”
And a girl with dark red hair.
Chapter 9
“Mom, is he here yet?” Michael’s excited whisper penetrated Maggie’s early-morning fog. It was Wednesday morning, just after five a.m., and she stifled a yawn as she took a sip from her second cup of coffee.
“He said five fifteen, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
She glanced out the window into the dark. Whispers of fog crept along the road, ribbons of smoke that shimmered from the streetlight down the way. Cain was taking Michael fishing as promised, and apparently the best time happened to be at this godforsaken hour.
She’d been surprised when Cain called Tuesday evening to remind her he’d be by at the crack of dawn to take Michael out on the lake. It was another shot for her son to try the whole fishing thing, since Sunday afternoon had been a bust—they’d caught nothing. Obviously the man had meant what he said. Maggie had secretly hoped he was just being polite.
She’d wanted to say no, but couldn’t come up with a reason good enough to do so. She wasn’t about to ruin what would be a memorable day for her son because Cain Black made her uncomfortable. That was her problem to deal with.
Besides, he’d be leaving Crystal Lake soon enough, and with his departure, the enigmatic complication that was Cain Black would be gone.
Twin beams of light cut through the dark, and Michael jumped up and down. “He’s here!”
