High-Caliber Concealer (21 page)

“You got too relaxed,” said Nikki, tiptoeing
to the kitchen door and checked the hall. She could hear voices
from the living room and the clatter of dishes from the dining
room. “You’ll do better next time. Besides, it’s not you I’m
worried about. It’s Z’ev and Jackson. Jackson is a straight arrow
and can’t lie at all.”

Jane paused in scraping the plates and stood
up, putting one hand on her hip. “And what does he have to lie
about?”

“Well, we may have kissed,” whispered
Nikki.

“Oh, my God. Seriously? Why didn’t you tell
us?”

“I was planning on calling everyone
tomorrow, but then you all arrived.”

“No wonder you’re trying to keep Jenny’s
boobs in check. OK, well, I think –” Whatever Jane had been about
to say was cut off by an angry squawk from Nikki.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Nikki ran
to the kitchen window where she could see Milt scrutinizing the
cars in the driveway. She ran to the junk drawer and yanked it
open, but her grandmother’s gun was no longer in residence.
Storming into the dining room, she found Jackson gathering up the
glasses.

“Do you know where Peg put her gun?”

“She told you about that thing, huh? I think
she moved it somewhere before your mom arrived.”

“What about you? You own a gun, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Where is it? In the truck? Give me the
keys.” Nikki held out her hand for the keys.

“All my guns are at home,” answered Jackson,
backing up a pace.

“What’re they doing at home?”

“It’s not hunting season and I didn’t think
I’d need to be packing heat at a family dinner party.”

“But you’ve got something else, don’t you?
Knife, something. I know you. You’re always packing something. Come
on, fork it over.” Nikki reached forward and grabbed the waistband
of his jeans, feeling for the weapon she was certain was there.

“Nikki!” protested Jackson, laughing, as her
hand dove into his back pocket.

There was the slightest sound of a throat
clearing, more of a murmur than an actual cough—Nikki froze. Then
ever so slowly turned her head to the living room doorway.

Z’ev raised an eyebrow. Nikki smiled
manically.

“I think I got that spider,” she said,
straightening up and dusting Jackson off. “You should have seen it,
honey,” she added over her shoulder. “It was huge.”

“I think I’ll just go… somewhere else,” said
Jackson, squeezing past Z’ev who stood immovable in the
doorway.

“Big spider,” said Nikki, measuring how big
with thumb and forefinger. “Big.”

“Rrrrright,” said Z’ev. “Your mom’s looking
for you.”

“Nikki,” said Nell, “Are we expecting
anyone? I think there’s someone outside.” The doorbell rang. “Oh,
well, there you go.” Nell walked down the hall.

“Mom, wait!” Nikki ran after her, but Nell
had already opened the door.

“Well, Nell Lanier,” said Sheriff
Smalls.

Nells back stiffened. “Mervin Smalls. What
are you doing here?”

“My job, of course. I’m investigating a
crime. I’m sheriff now, in case you hadn’t heard.”

“I heard. I donated $500 to your opponent’s
campaign.”

Merv laughed. “A waste of your money I’m
afraid.”

“What crime could you possibly be
investigating?” demanded Nell.

“Well, interestingly enough, your daughter
was involved in an altercation at a local establishment on Tuesday
night and a car was stolen. A car that has not yet turned up. I’ve
brought the owner to verify that none of the cars on your property
are his.”

“Are you suggesting that my daughter stole a
car?”

“Well, it seemed like it might be prudent to
check,” said Merv. “Reports say that she was friendly with the
thief.”

“What reports?” asked Nikki, although
neither the sheriff or her mother showed any signs of hearing
her.

“Mervin Smalls,” said Peg, coming out of the
living room and into the hall. “Get the hell off my property.”

“Mrs. Connelly, you seem to have taken
offense when I offered to buy your property. If there’s some sort
of mistake –”

“I didn’t mistake nothin’. Now get the hell
off my farm and don’t come back without a warrant.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,”
said Merv, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on his gun belt.

“Yes, I do. Nell, shut the door.”

“Yes, mother,” said Nell, in tone of
unbelievable compliance and slammed the door in the sheriff’s
face.

“Uh,” said Nikki.

“So, we don’t like the sheriff?” asked
Z’ev.

“That sheriff used out-of-state money to get
elected,” said Peg. “He’s been pressuring farmers all over the
county to turn in lists of their undocumented workers. And I heard
Randall Cobb bought him off to keep from getting half his work
force turned into Immigration.”

“Randall Cobb is a known liar,” said
Jackson, leaning against the living room door.

Peg squinted unhappily. “That’s true, but
that doesn’t mean he’s lying about the sheriff.”

“If people don’t want to get harassed by the
sheriff, then possibly people should stop using illegal
aliens.”

“Well, you tell me how easy it is when your
grapes come in,” snapped Peg. “We’ll see if you don’t change your
tune then. I know you’re all hopped up on how undocumented aliens
are a drain on our economy, but you’ve got to stop reading those
Republican pamphlets. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you
again—nearly every dollar earned by an illegal immigrant stays in
the US. There is no drain! And maybe I wouldn’t complain so loud if
Mervin Smalls applied the law evenly across the board, but he
doesn’t. Notice how his friends never have any troubles with their
workers.”

“I think you’ve got a little bit of a
personal bias on the immigration issue,” said Jackson.

“And I think, that…” said Peg, whirling
around, her finger raised to wag under Jackson’s nose. She held the
finger a second, seeming to reconsider whatever she had been about
to say. “You should know better than to talk politics at a family
gathering.”

Jackson’s eyes flicked from Peg to Nell to
Nikki. “You are absolutely right. My apologies.”

Peg looked around at her guests. “I’m sure
it’s time for pie,” she said with a forced smile. Nikki frowned at
Peg and Jackson. Something had just happened, but she wasn’t sure
what. The question was, who was she going to interrogate first—Peg
or Jackson?

“Tell me again why I couldn’t stay at the
farm?” asked Z’ev as she drove toward his motel. From his sour
expression, she could tell he felt insulted. He probably also felt
like she should have stood up for him.

“Because Grandma wouldn’t approve,” said
Nikki, feeling a stab of guilt. She really should have demanded
that he stay.

“I didn’t hear her say she didn’t approve.”
His tone was flat and emotionless, the way it was when he was
totally pissed.

“Look, I chickened out and froze, OK? I’ll
figure it out tomorrow, but right now we’re already in the car and
headed to the motel. Besides,” she said, slowing down to make a
turn, cranking the wheel hand over hand, “the motel probably has
more insulation than my room at the farm. And less clothes. And
less butterflies.”

“I think it’s a given about the
butterflies,” said Z’ev. “I’m fairly certain the motel has zero
butterflies. But why do we need insulation?”

Nikki gave him a look. “Because I haven’t
seen you in a month and I don’t know what you had planned, but I
wasn’t thinking I’d just drop you off and head home.”

“Ohhhh,” said Z’ev, moving his hand over to
rest on her knee. “Sorry, I was being dense. Nope. The motel’s
fine. Let’s go to the motel.” His hand slid a little higher,
pushing up the skirt of her dress. “We could even go to the motel a
little faster. You know, if you wanted.”

Nikk’s foot involuntarily slammed down on
the gas pedal. She forced it to ease up. “Jackson said they are
very serious about the speeding tickets here. I don’t think my
insurance can take any more speeding tickets.”

“It’s not really the speeding ones that are
killing you,” said Z’ev. “It was those reckless driving ones that
did it.” His hand inched a little higher, getting lost under the
yards of netting that made up her petticoat.

“That was total crap,” said Nikki. “There
was nothing reckless about my driving. I had everything under—” she
gulped as his hand found the edge of her panties. “Control.”
“Control” came out in a wavering tone and she bit her lip.

“You probably shouldn’t have gone over the
middle of the traffic circle,” he said, sliding a finger under the
edge of her panties.

“Traffic circles impede speed.”

“That is what they’re designed to do,” he
agreed.

“And it was an emergency.” She breathed out
audibly. She was working very hard to keep track of the
conversation.

“Definitely an emergency,” he agreed. The
motel was finally in sight and Nikki was flipping off the ignition
practically before she had finished parking.

“You are a danger to the highways,” she
said, taking off her seatbelt.

“I wasn’t the one driving,” he said, pulling
her out of the driver’s seat and into his lap.

“You were causing reckless endangerment of
pedestrians,” she said between kisses and loosening his tie.

“You know it turns you on.” He paused a few
moments later. “Seriously, are you wearing a tutu? What is going on
with this dress?”

Nikki giggled. “It’s the petticoat for my
1950s photo shoot. So the dress is extra fluffy.”

“Extra fluffy in all the wrong places. No
wonder everyone in the fifties slept in separate beds. I can’t
actually find you under all this crap.”

“Well, we could go into your room,” said
Nikki. “I’ll show you how it comes off.”

“A plan I can get behind.” He opened the
door and there was a tangle of limbs as they tried to exit the car
gracefully. Finally upright, she leaned against the car, panting a
little. “No more petticoats,” he said, reaching back into the car
for her purse and locking the door. “From now on, we stick to
decades with less underwear. The seventies, for instance. I fully
support the braless seventies.”

“You say that now,” said Nikki, taking her
purse. “But I’m not sure how you’d look in bellbottoms.” She
surveyed his butt as he led the way to his motel room. “On the
other hand, maybe it would be fine.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he said, unlocking the
door, and snapping on the light. “I’d have to buy Chuck Norris
Action Slacks.”

Nikki laughed and turned to shut the door.
“Z’ev? How much money did you take off those guys at craps?”

“Five hundred bucks or so. Nothing big,
why?”

Nikki stared at the car parked across the
street in the Kessel Run parking lot. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe
she’d seen it in her rear view mirror on the drive.

“No reason,” said Nikki, shutting the door.
“I’m sure it’s fine.”

Z’ev looked at her and then flicked off the
light and went to the window. The neon arrow from the Kessel Run
illuminated the room in successive bursts of blue and green. “I
don’t recognize the car,” he said, “But someone is definitely
inside.” There was the flare of a lighter and they could both see
the glowing tip of the cigarette for a moment.

“It’s probably someone smoking before they
go into the Kessel Run,” said Nikki.

“Is there any reason to think it isn’t?”
asked Z’ev looking at Nikki.

“No,” she said smiling. “I’m just paranoid
about motels ever since I saw that
Vacancy
movie.”

A woman got out of the car, barely a
silhouette in the light from the parking lot, snubbed out the
cigarette on the ground and went into the Kessel Run.

“Uh-huh.” He shut the curtain, locked the
door, and turned on the bedside light before beginning his evening
routine. As usual, his things were laid out with OCD precision and
while Nikki watched, he removed his wallet and placed it on the
bedside table, followed by his watch. His tie came off and was
folded and placed next to his bag. Nikki picked up the tie and
began rolling it. He fiddled with his phone, dialing up music and
placed it on the table.

“What are you doing?” he asked removing the
now rolled tie from her hands.

“If you fold a tie for packing it gets
creases. It’s better to roll it.”

He’d set the station to 1940s pop and after
setting down the tie with a shake of his head, he pulled her into a
dreamy box waltz.

Nikki sighed as she relaxed into his
shoulder. “Have I mentioned that I love that you dance?”

“Once or twice. You caused me to write my
grandmother a thank you note. My mother was annoyed.”

“Why was your mom annoyed?”

“Well, apparently forcing me to go to those
dance lessons was serious work for my mom, and she only stuck with
it because Grandma insisted, but she thought it was sort of
useless. And getting my note made Grandma so smug she was
insufferable for a week.”

Nikki giggled and then sighed again. “I
missed you.” His arm tightened around her waist, but he didn’t
reply. Instead, he kissed her neck, following along the curve until
he got to the spot just behind her ear.

“You were going to show me how the dress
comes off?” he murmured.

“Ah, yes, it’s very complicated. There’s a
zipper at the back.”

“Mm-hmm.” His hands found the zipper and
inched slowly downward, exposing one inch of skin to the
air-conditioned room at a time. Nikki began to unbutton his shirt,
returning the favor. “Does it go up or down?”

“The zipper goes both ways,” said Nikki and
was rewarded with a pinch to her butt, barely felt through the
petticoat. She giggled. “The dress goes up.” The dress was yanked
over her head and as she laughed, he pushed her backwards onto the
bed. “You still haven’t dealt with the petticoat.”