Halos (3 page)

He tapped the page with the backs of his fingers. “I read a chapter every day from Proverbs. Some of it’s got to stick, don’t you think?”

She smiled. “I’m sure.”

“It also says ‘The fear of the Lord teaches a man wisdom, and humility comes before honor.’”

“Why aren’t you married, Ben? I thought all men like you were snatched up.”

He actually blushed. “Well, I’m in a situation, see.” He closed his Bible and set it aside. “I’ve been seeing a woman, Mary, for three years. She’s got twin girls, Cait and Lyn.” He looked down into his coffee. “She had a rough go of it first time around.”

Alessi looked into his face and almost saw a halo. It was there, she was sure. Without thinking, she squeezed his hand. “Three years is a long time.” She knew. She’d spent her last three doing the best she could with almost nothing to show for it. Actually nothing, now. But she had to stop thinking in terms of that car. It might be gone for good.

“She’s got to work out her troubles from that before she can think of remarrying. Her and the girls both.”

Alessi nodded. “It can’t be easy.”

The door opened, and Steve blew in on a cold wind. His hair was worse than the night before, the shadow had become stubble, and his scowl was firmly in place. He looked her over, noting with a quirk of eyebrows her change of clothes. “Good morning.”

His civil greeting caught her off guard. “Hi. I left your things on the bed. I’d wash them but …” She spread her hands.

“Don’t worry about it.” He went to the counter and poured coffee into a wide-eyed Tweety Bird mug that read,
I did, I did!
But it was no puddy-tat that gripped him.

“Sleep all right?” Ben asked.

“Sure.” Steve sipped his coffee.

Alessi stood, wrapped herself in her arms. “I guess I’ll just go see if someone returned my car.” She had on the same top she’d worn the day before and felt the chill as she stepped outside. What shirt would she have chosen if she’d known it would become her sole possession? She closed her eyes for half a breath. The ribbon-embroidered cashmere sweater she’d splurged on at the Goodwill. Definitely.

Four

D
ID I HEAR RIGHT?” Steve turned to Ben.

Ben nodded. “She thinks it might be a prank.” He spread his hands. “Maybe it is.”

Steve looked at the door she’d exited. What crazy wind had blown that tall, awkward bird into their nest? He went to the closet, pulled on his brown bomber jacket, and went back out. He found her standing at the gas pumps, looking disappointed. Had she actually thought it would be there?

“It’s understandable.” She looked one way up the street, then the other. “The first time I slid into that leather seat, cranked some tunes, and stepped on the gas, I fell in love.”

He’d heard men talk that way. Dave frequently made love to the engines he repaired, even talking to them as he worked.

Her face pinched. “It wouldn’t be easy to give it back; I just thought …”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do you have a name?”

“Alessi.” She still searched the street as though the car might appear at any moment. Then she shivered.

Leaning his head to the side, Steve took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. She turned, startled. Hazel. Her eyes were hazel, a nice blend with her hair. Not too dramatic. He said, “Did you see the movie
Gone in Sixty Seconds
?”

She nodded slowly.

“Then you know the odds.”

“But not here.” She pulled the coat closed at the neck, just as she had pulled his robe the night before. “Not in a place like Charity.”

He scoffed. “What do you know about Charity?”

She dropped her gaze to the snowy ground. He hated to disillusion her, but the sooner she cleared the fluff from her head, the better. He stamped his feet and said, “Can we go back inside?”

“I think I’ll just walk around and look. Maybe I’ll see it.”

He crossed his arms over his quickly chilling chest. “If someone stole your car, they didn’t just drive it to Moll’s.”

“I have to do something.” She pulled off the coat and thrust it toward him. Anxiety flashed over her face. Not quite the blind optimist she’d seemed.

He sagged a hip. “At least wear the coat. It’s a pretty good fit.”

She brought it back to her chest. “Thanks.” Then she pulled it on and started off.

He watched her go. Long limbs. His coat was loose in the shoulders and a little bunched at the wrists, but not much. He put a hand through his hair, shivered, and went back inside.

Dave had joined Ben at the table. Steve’s coffee was cold. He dumped it in the sink and brewed a fresh pot. As he waited for the carafe to fill, he leaned on the counter. “So what’s the plan?”

Ben and Dave looked at him.

Steve spread his hands. “What?”

“We can’t just turn her out.”

“Meaning …” He switched the carafe with his mug, filled it, and switched them back.

Dave said, “She’s got no family. Everything she owned was in her car.”

“Wait a minute.” Steve returned his hips to the counter. “I thought you said she was driving a cherry Mustang.”

“It was a cherry all right.” Ben nodded. “Red convertible, leather seats. Very sweet.”

“Hardly sounds like some indigent waif.” He drank the strong brew, which hadn’t quite mellowed to a full pot flavor.

Dave said, “She told Cooper her uncle gave her the car.”

Steve frowned. “More likely she took it and ran.” That explained her strangeness. He’d probably never see his coat again.

Dave scratched his head. “It had her name on the license plate. L-E-S-S. She said they called her Less.”

Steve said, “Less, not Alessi. How do you know it wasn’t her uncle’s name? Lester or Leslie.” It was hard to imagine two men more gullible than Dave and Ben. This woman had them totally snowed.

Ben stood up. “That would be one
s
, I think.” He carried his mug to the sink. “I’m going to open the station.”

Steve turned. “We haven’t decided anything.”

“Like what?”

Were they intentionally obtuse? “Like where I’m sleeping tonight.”

“I guess I’ll get after that Toyota.” Dave squeezed in and rinsed his mug. “When did Pete want it by?”

Steve spread his hands. “What is this?”

Ben shrugged. “If you want her out, you’ll have to tell her so yourself.”

“Excuse me, but I’m an equal partner here. I pay you a third of the mortgage, last I looked.”

“That’s true.” Dave nodded. “I guess we could rotate, each of us give up our room for a night until she finds her car.”

“She’s not going to find her car.” Steve slammed his mug, sloshing the coffee over the rim. “And both of you know it.”

Dave and Ben exchanged a glance.

Finally he’d gotten through. “How many missing things have been found lately?”

Ben cleared his throat, but Steve didn’t give him time to comment. “None. Not one. And I for one am not going to sleep in a cot until Cooper comes up with a good excuse to send Miss Alessi on her way.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

He spun, feeling the chill from her eyes more than the wind from the open door. She took off his coat and held it out. He took it, feeling like a heel. “What I mean is …”

“Don’t worry about it.” She turned to Ben. “I talked to Sheriff Roehr. He’s working on it. I was wondering … Would you need some help at the station? I asked at Moll’s. She was doing a brisk breakfast business, but she didn’t need anyone. You don’t either. I can tell. Well …”

“What about you, Steve?” Dave tapped his elbow. “You could use help at the store while you value and post all that new inventory.”

Steve glared. “I’m sure I can break away for the two or three people who might walk in needing books this week.”

“It takes you days to catch up when you’ve done an acquisition.”

“That’s all right.” Alessi pushed her hair back. “Do you think I could take a shower? I might have better luck if I’m not so rumpled.”

“Sure. Of course.” Dave and Ben all but fell over themselves.

“Thanks.”

Steve watched her head to the bathroom, where he had planned to shower. The door closed behind her, and he turned to his companions. “Listen, guys, we need a plan here.” He did not like the looks in their eyes. “She’s suckered you. She’s a … sociopath.” Anyone who could be that sweet and innocent and cheerful in these circumstances had something going.

Ben shook his head. “I’m going to open the station.” He went to the closet, pulled on a coat, and walked out.

Dave pursed his lips. “If I had a cot to sleep on somewhere, I’d sure give her my room.”

“Well, why don’t you?” Steve wiped the spill from the side of his cup and hand.

“Because I don’t have a cot.”

“There’s a couch.” Steve pointed to the navy plaid couch they’d all gone in on last summer.

“I don’t think she’d feel comfortable with that. I sleep in my underwear.”

More information than he needed. “Look, it’s silly to talk as though she’s going to be here any length of time.”

Dave swirled the dish soap around the sink, then ran the hot water until it filled with suds.

“I said she won’t be here any length of time, right?”

“Where is she supposed to go?” Dave set each cup into the water.

“Dave.” Steve drained his mug and brought it to the sink. “I’m not being heartless here. I just think there are better solutions.”

Dave swabbed a cup. “Like what?”

“Like the Moto-Lodge.”

“In Chambers City?” Dave sounded as though he’d suggested the moon.

“Why not?”

Dave said, “How’s she gonna pay? Her purse was in the car.”

“How convenient.” She had it down to an art.

Dave turned. “Have you talked to her? Spent any time with her? She’s real nice, Steve.”

“The best cons are.” He knew that from experience.

Dave rinsed a mug and set it upside down in the dish drainer. “You should let her work in the store a few days.”

“With access to my till? No thanks.” Steve jammed his hands into his pockets.

Dave jabbed a soapy finger toward him. “I don’t like you calling her a thief. She hasn’t asked for anything except just now for a job.”

“And a shower.” He sounded petty.

Dave shook his head and rinsed the last cup. As the sink water glugged out, he wiped his hands on a towel. With one last accusing look, he grabbed a jacket and headed for the garage.

Steve went to the refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs and a loaf of whole-wheat bread. He dug for a stick of butter. He was not going to lose his appetite over this.

Five

A
LESSI STEPPED OUT OF THE SHOWER and toweled off. Sheriff Roehr had been friendlier this morning than the night before. He didn’t laugh when she proposed finding a job while she waited for her car to be found. He had tried to convince her to call her uncle, though. Was it pride that kept her from it? No. It was self-preservation, what self they’d left her.

So finding a job was the first order of business. She’d never had a credit card, but all the cash from her bank account had been in her purse; almost a thousand dollars, starting-over money. She’d been especially frugal the last months when Edward Miller hadn’t seemed well. His stroke was not a complete surprise.

Poor old Ed. How was he doing? His sons and daughter had swooped in to care for him and found him a decent facility. Alessi had not been needed. She worked the towel over her hair. Nope. Not needed one bit. She did help close down the store, working long hours clearing inventory at bargain prices. It was like selling pieces of Ed.

And the thought of Dippin’ Dots and Dogs was just too much. She had left Daytona Beach December 4 and made it all the way to Charity. That, it seemed, was as far as she could go, unless she struck out on foot. Hitching a ride with strangers on the highway was not an option. And living with strangers was?

She clutched the rough towel to her throat and breathed in the soapy-scented steam. It was only the one night, and her instincts had said she could trust Dave and Ben. She believed that still. But she was trouble for Steve. Understandable. She’d invaded his space. Story of her life.

Alessi pulled on her clothes, then searched the cabinet. No hair dryer. But then, neither Ben nor Dave had enough hair to worry about it. Dave’s was a black buzzed rim on a bowling ball head, and Ben’s was that wispy brown scarecrow hair. If Steve had a blow dryer, he probably kept it under lock and key.

No, that was unfair. She had to see things from his perspective. She worked the comb through her hair again. It would take an hour to air dry. Or freeze into witch hair—maybe she could scare up a job. At least she was clean. She dressed and went out.

The smell of eggs and buttery toast made her stomach clutch up like a fist. She was a morning eater as a rule, though the meal at Moll’s had been much more than she usually had in the evening. She’d intended to head right out to continue her job search, but Steve turned from the stove.

“You want some eggs?”

She hesitated.

“Or don’t you eat cholesterol?” He looked her over. “Tofu and sprouts more your style?”

“I eat anything.” Beggars could not be choosers. And she knew what health food cost from stocking the shelves with her mother.

“Wouldn’t know it to look at you.”

“Well, I’m from Anorexia Beach. No one eats much when you live in bikinis.”

He shot her a glance. “One egg or two?”

“Two. My bikini was in my car.”

He almost smiled. “Toast?”

“Just one, thanks. Do you have any juice?”

“In the refrigerator.”

She searched the shelves and found a carton of orange.

“Pour me a glass, too, will you?” Steve pointed to the cabinet that held glasses. At least he was no longer growling.

She filled two glasses and set them on the table. He flipped her eggs. Their edges were crispy brown from all the butter in the skillet. A moment later, he slid the eggs and butter over the slice of toast. Her mouth watered. He carried both plates to the table, and she followed.

Laying the paper napkin in her lap, Alessi said, “My mother had this grace she used to say. ‘Thank you for this food, O Lord. Make this meal a feast, if only in our minds.’”

Steve scrutinized her. Didn’t he believe in grace?

She took up her fork and looked down at her plate. “Of course, this is a feast already.”

He said, “Cut the act.”

She looked up sharply. “What act?”

He raised his brows. “Your Pollyanna con might fool Ben and Dave, but I see through you.”

“Oh.” She cut into her meal. Yellow egg yolk oozed over the corner of her toast, and she speared the bite and chewed.

“You have nothing to say to that? No witty comeback, no denial?”

She swallowed and wiped her mouth. “In the three and a half years I’ve been on my own, I’ve met two kinds of people. The kind with their minds made up, and the kind who wait and see.” She took another bite. It was delicious cooked in excessive butter like that.

“You’re not old enough to be on your own three and a half years.”

“Twenty-one last June. I was given a car on my eighteenth birthday and invited to hit the road.” She took a gulp of juice. It had sat a little long in the carton.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Guardianship only lasts until then. Aunt Carrie and Uncle Bob had fulfilled their duty.”

“So they kicked you out.”

A sting touched her heart. “It wasn’t like that. I was … an embarrassment. My mother eloped with my dad. No one in the family even knew about me until both my parents had died and I had to go somewhere.” She pushed damp strands of hair behind her ear. “I was a gawky twelve-year-old. They did the best they could.”

He was silent so long she was sure he didn’t believe her. He’d already decided she was a liar. So what? People made judgments all the time. That was their problem. They’d judged her mother for choosing her dad. It wasn’t her fault he’d drowned five years after they married. So she was a single mother trying to make ends meet. Did that mean she was a loser?

Alessi finished her eggs in silence. “That was good. Thanks.” She stood and took her plate to the sink. She dribbled dish soap over the yolky plate and spritzed it with water, then wiped the ragged cloth over it and rinsed. She loved when things came clean. Probably a holdover from all the places she and her mother had janitored. Mom had made it a game: The princess was coming home at last and all the kingdom must sparkle; or the ogre would devour the owner of the dirtiest house; or the prince would marry the damsel who wasn’t too spoiled to dirty her hands. Whatever the game, Alessi had worked with a fervor, taking on the devotion or desperation or humility of the theme.

She turned. “Would you like me to wash your plate?”

Though finished, he hadn’t risen. He sat watching her, then seemed to realize she’d addressed him. “No. That’s all right.”

She dried her hands on the towel. “Thanks for letting me use your room last night.”

“About that …”

“I’ll have something else tonight.” She wrapped herself in her arms.

“Well, bye.”

“It’s cold out. You should at least take a coat.”

She headed for the door. “Cholesterol’s a great insulator.”

“Alessi, hold it.” He went to the closet, took out a thick flannellined jean jacket. “This one’s short in the sleeves. It’ll probably work just right for you.”

She took the coat, risking one glance at his face. It was the softest she’d seen it yet. “Thanks. I’ll return it when I get my stuff back.”

He said nothing. She went out the door, snapping the jacket to her neck. It would have been an awfully cold walk without it, especially with her hair still wet. Snow might be beautiful, but it had its downside. She stuffed her hands into the pockets. Her fingers found something in the right one. She pulled it out. Two ten-dollar bills folded up.

She stopped. Had he planted it there? Her throat tightened painfully. She turned back, knocked on the door. It took a while for him to answer. When he did, he stood in T-shirt and jeans, having removed his sweater, shoes, and socks. He was not ripped in a beachcombing Florida way, but his musculature spoke of healthy exercise and natural strength.

She held out the bills. “I found this in your pocket.”

He looked from the money to her. “Keep it. You might need it.”

She shook her head. “No thanks.”

He pushed her hand back. “Keep it, Alessi. I didn’t even know it was in there.”

Her ache eased. It was conceivable someone could have money in a pocket and forget. “I’ll pay you back when I get my purse.”

He nodded. “All right.”

She pushed the money back into the pocket and started down the street. She would only use the loan if she had to. But its presence there was a tiny spark of security. She decided to start at the farthest-out point and work her way back to the heart of Charity. The buildings were not tucked up to one another at the fringe. That made for a longer walk than she’d realized driving in.

But she kept her pace brisk, building up some thermal energy inside Steve’s jacket. She entered the front of the kennel that smelled of cigarette smoke and tuna. Then slowly she realized it wasn’t tuna but dog urine. “Hello?” She waited. Finally a shuffling sound.

A hunchbacked woman made her way to the counter. “Yes?” Her orange hair looked like fake fur, too many chemicals used for too long. A chorus of barks followed her.

“Hi there.” Alessi spoke quickly. “My name is Alessi Moore. Could you use help in the kennels, cleaning up or anything?” She’d prepared an oral resume, but …

“No. Do my own cleaning. All the dogs are mine.”

“That must be very cheerful companionship.”

The woman blinked slowly, her neck arched at what had to be an uncomfortable angle to meet Alessi’s gaze. The smile she tried to form was a ghastly cross between a grimace and a grin, but her voice sounded sincerely regretful when she added, “I’d help you if I could. I hate to send away a stranger in need.”

“That’s all right.” Alessi wasn’t asking for help, just a chance to help herself. “I’m sure I’ll find something. Thank you anyway.” She went out and the cold snatched her as she moved on to the mini mart. A ponytailed man informed her that he and two others covered all the shifts there.

She crossed over to the hardware store, where a cheerful couple gave her the news that they and their son and their granddaughter ran the store and “thank you very much for asking, dear.” He was tall and she was tall, and Alessi guessed the son and even the granddaughter were as well. She’d have fit in nicely there, but they had it covered. “Good luck,” Grandma called. “Hope you find something.”

Alessi passed a motel that she hadn’t noticed on the way in, since it had only two rooms and the sign lay facedown in the tiny front lot. She went into the beer and pool hall. It wasn’t open for business yet, but when she tapped the window, the door was opened by a man with blond hair that stood straight out an inch from the sides and top of his head. He had the proverbial broom, his purpose made clear by barrels of salted peanuts in the shell.

Alessi said, “I could sweep that up for you. I’m looking for work.”

He looked her down and up. Not unkindly, but with a sort of vague confusion. “And I would do what?” That left her stumped just long enough that he said, “Sorry. Can’t help you. Wish I could,” and closed the door.

Alessi walked on in the cold. No one needed her, that was plain, but they all sure wished her well. If wishes were fishes, or horses, or fairy wands—or halos? Alessi shivered as her hair glazed. No sense asking at the city hall, with its sign that said call Frank at home with inquiries, so she made her way back to the gas station.

Ben waved her inside and brewed up a hot chocolate. “Any luck?”

She shook her head, the strands faintly clinking. “Not yet. But I’ve only done half of the town. Once I warm up a little, I’ll start on the other.” She sipped. “Ben, do you think I could start a tab for a few things like a toothbrush and toothpaste? Just until I get my money back or a paycheck?”

“Get whatever you need, Alessi. We’ll just write it down.”

She started down the short aisle that held shoelaces, eyeglass repair kits, toothbrushes, and combs. She selected a hairbrush as well as the dental items. Maybe there was somewhere in town with lower prices on those things, but she doubted anyone else would let her wait to pay.

Dave came in rubbing his hands. “Hey there. Is that Steve’s coat?”

She nodded. “He’s letting me use it.”

“So you two made up?”

“No. He thinks I’m a liar. But that reminds me. I can pay for these things.” She pulled out the tens. “I thought Steve planted the money in the pocket to see if I’d take it, but he seemed surprised it was there. He said to use it, so …”

“You just save that for something else.” Ben pushed the bills away and wrote down the items.

She put the money back into her pocket, then rolled the top of the small sack shut and tried to work up the energy to continue her search. “People in Charity must be the nicest people around, but this town seems to be high on help and low on need.”

“You ought to talk to Steve at the bookstore.” Dave tore open a Danish pastry and took a bite. “He’s always over his head when he buys a collection. Spends hours searching out the history and value of each book.”

“I think he’d just as soon forget I’m here.”

“He’s not really like that,” Ben said. “It’s been a rough year.”

Alessi took the stool next to the counter and leaned on her elbow. She might as well thaw out a little.

Ben moved the cardboard display of breath drops. “He was up in Anchorage working as a park ranger, but his dad took a bad turn, and Steve came back to run the store.” Ben shook his head. “He wasn’t ready to lose him.”