Mr. V’s hesitation drew the attention of the infidel hater. I was pretty sure he was president of the Infidel Haters and Knitting Club. He stood and walked over to us, feigning interest in the bag of food I’d brought to get a look at the receipt. Which was just a receipt. I wasn’t a complete noob. My every move had to seem perfectly legit. People’s lives were at stake.
But the minute he got close to Mr. V, the growling exploded into vicious barks and blood-curdling snarls. Yet both men seemed oblivious.
“Oh,” I said, talking louder to be heard over the barks, “sorry, were you not going to charge today?”
When both men looked at me as if I had two heads, I became fascinated with a little antique inkwell that would look great on my mantel. If I had one.
Mr. V played along, probably to avoid any more unwanted attention. “Not today.”
“Oh, alrighty then. It’ll be twenty-four fifty.”
As casually as I could, I let my gaze wander toward the back of the store. They must have had another man working. They’d ordered four meals this time, but none of them came to the front.
The dog calmed a bit when the president took the bag of food over to Mr. V’s small desk and started going through it. I took the opportunity to do what I’d really come for.
I slipped a note from under my left palm – the one that read ‘Is everything okay?’ – while keeping my right one, complete with fingernails tapping in impatience, visible to the intruder.
Mr. V paused. Fear spiked within him so fast it made me dizzy. He spared a furtive glance over his shoulder, then refocused on counting out the money. After a moment, he gave me a beseeching look accompanied by a quick shake of his head. He wasn’t saying no to my question. He was pleading with me to leave it alone.
But I couldn’t. Not just yet. I flipped the note over and held my breath. I had to give Mr. V kudos on not losing his composure completely. And, in the process, possibly getting us both killed.
The second note asked him if they had his family. I thought he was going to break down, his emotions were so fragile. Like eggshells in an elephant’s cage.
“Twenty-three, twenty-four, and fifty cents,” he said. “Oh, and four dollars for you, hon.”
When he looked back up at me, he nodded, the movement so quick and subtle, I almost missed it.
I stood crestfallen, even more unsure of what to do. How to help him. They had his family. If he had been the only one in danger, I felt for certain he’d allow me to call in the troops. Sadly, that was not the case. Keeping my movements out of his captor’s sight, I gave his hand a quick squeeze. Before I could release him, he squeezed back to get my attention and then shook his head again, beseeching me, once more, not to do anything.
Pressing my lips together, I offered him the same quick, curt nod that he’d given me, telling him I understood. The dog whimpered behind the counter, and then I felt a cool, wet tongue test my fingers. I didn’t respond. By that point, I realized the dog must’ve been departed like Artemis.
“Have a good day,” I said, practically bouncing out of the shop. But I’d taken a peek at the dog, now sitting in front of the desk, and a sad sense of elation washed over me. It was the German shepherd. The one from last night. If all dogs, or all animals for that matter, had spirits that could stay behind when they died, why weren’t the streets filled with the ghosts of animals? I saw at least five departed everyday, but besides Artemis, the German shepherd was the only other animal I’d seen. Maybe it was because the dog had died trying to protect his owners. Maybe he stayed behind of his own accord, unwilling to shirk his duty because of a little thing like death.
And if he had crossed to the other side, was there a heaven just for them? And what would a dog heaven look like?
Too many unanswered questions. My brain overflowed with them. I left the shop with a bittersweet taste in my mouth, even more confused about how to proceed. Did I dare talk to the man Bobert was setting up a meeting with? I’d already told Ian. I’d set off the Vandenbergs’s house alarm. Had I put them in even more danger?
Bottom line: I had to find his family, and I had a plan. Unfortunately, it would have to wait until that evening. Mr. V had several family photos, and they were all taken at the same cabin no matter how old his kids were when they were taken. Either he had a cabin or he knew someone with one. Maybe his captors found out and were holding them hostage there. It made perfect sense. No neighbors. Isolated spot. Well camouflaged with a plethora of trees and brush around. And easily guarded. They’d see anyone coming up the road for miles. Most of the leaves had already fallen, and though it wasn’t officially winter, it sure as heck felt like it.
After that, the day progressed rather normally. If a buttload of women with love in their eyes was any indication of normal. We were swamped. Had been swamped since we’d opened. Reyes might be good for business, but he was bad for my bunions. Or he would have been if I’d had bunions. He was damned lucky I didn’t.
“Sumi,” I said, trying to get her attention.
I needed the orders for booth seven pronto. It was full of giggling preteens, and I needed them out. Every time they’d look in the rock star’s direction, they’d burst into a fit of giggles and discuss his expression right down to the position of his brows. The tilt of his mouth. The implication of his glances. Did he like movies? Did he play video games? Did he like them?
Uh, he would if he were a child molester.
I wanted to say it but couldn’t bring myself to break their fluttering little hearts. Especially since I’d been doing the same thing all morning. Chancing quick glances. Analyzing every movement. Wondering if he liked me.
I needed to nip a sticky situation in the bud. Reyes didn’t need to be investigated because a kid declaring her love was taken the wrong way by an eavesdropper. If anything could go downhill fast, it was suspicion of pedophilia. It never ended well.
After Sumi snapped out of her latest fantasy and tore her gaze off Reyes, she nodded and got me the plates I needed.
I rushed them over, filled a few drinks, then went to the storeroom for more ketchup, where I came face-to-face with a departed woman. An agitated departed woman.
“Where have you been?” she asked, walking toward me, her strides angry and aggressive.
“Stay back,” I said, my voice a soft hiss as I made a cross with my index fingers. I did not want a repeat of yesterday’s fiasco.
“Oh, stop it.” She slapped my hands away, her long red hair shifting soundlessly. “Rocket’s really upset with you.”
I could only assume Rocket was a guy. “I’m… sorry? Wait.” I lunged forward and took hold of her shoulders. “Do you know who I am?”
“Duh. Took me forever to find your skanky ass. What the hell is up with your light? It’s, like, everywhere. And Rocket is freaking out. Seriously. Like the world is about to end kind of freaking out. Something about the angels and how pissed they are. At you, naturally. And there’s this god thing going on. You have to get back there and calm him down.”
“Get back? Get back to where? Where am I from?”
“Oh. My. God. Would you stop already?”
I was a microsecond away from shaking her until her teeth rattled when a thick, billowing blackness rose behind her. I stumbled back. It grew out of the ground like an evil fog. Because only evil fog could be that menacing.