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She sighed. “The door at the bottom of the steps.”
“What do you mean? It locks from the outside so no one can get up here.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” She shrugged. “It’s locked. I can’t get it open.”
He blew out a breath. “What does the tablecloth that you were sent up here for look like?”
“Red with white trim.”
He lifted the lid of the trunk.
Becca gasped and took several steps backward.
He started to reach inside to move the quilt that was on top out of the way, but he immediately met Remy. Damn. The fucking spider was big. Beau actually jerked his hand back. The spider dove into the trunk, and Beau swore.
“Told you,” Becca said.
Okay, so Remy was running—or diving—for his life. Beau quickly tossed the quilt out of the way, then two tablecloths, then another blanket.
“I don’t see anything red.”
“Maybe it’s in the box?” Becca asked. She was standing as far away from the trunk as she could get. The toes of her tennis shoes were hanging over the edge of the top step, in fact.
Beau moved to the box, pulling the top off. He pulled back the top blanket and sucked in a quick breath as Becca squealed.
“It’s just a piece of lint,” he said of the black blob on the top of the next blanket. This must have been what she thought was the spider she’d named Damon. He turned with it pinched between his fingers. “See—”
She was white as a sheet and two steps down from the top.
“Becca?”
“He got out,” she whispered and pointed.
Beau looked down. There was a black spider on the floor about a foot from his shoe. It was either Remy, escaped from the trunk, or a friend.
“Well, fuck.” Beau lifted his foot and moved to squash the little bastard.
“No!”
He paused. “What?”
“You can’t kill it!”
“Are you kidding? I can’t kill the man-eating spider that you’re deathly afraid of?”
“Can’t you put him in with Emmaline?”
Beau sighed and put his foot down. This woman…
Of course, Remy made a break for it just then. Becca gasped and backed up, even though the spider was not heading in her direction. Beau looked around, grabbed another jar off the shelf and quickly plunked it down over the top of the spider, trapping him.
Then he saw a pile of old menus. Plucking one off the top, he slid it under the jar and the spider. He looked up at Becca. “To get him in the jar with Emmaline, you’ll have to hold her jar and open the top.”
“Um…no,” Becca said simply.
Yeah, that’s what he’d figured. He grabbed another lid, turned the Remy trap upside down, and screwed it on.
Now they had two jars with spiders inside. They could end up with two dozen at this rate.
