Relative Danger (18 page)

“At Rent-a-Costume,” I said. “Well who would imagine?”

“Yeah, we got a Mickey Mouse suit. And Santy Claus and Pokemon and even a caveman. Lots of women like that one.”

“Uh-huh, but I like the chicken.”

“Figures.” He draped on the head. “Look at those big chickens.” His admiring tone echoed from inside the beak, his wing pointing to a gaggle of geese that wobbled up a hill near the pond.

I took a sharp breath and peeked inside the restaurant’s front door.

Gil came into view. I exhaled, watching him saunter through the large room with few customers. Mmm, Gil had kept broad shoulders for a man his age. A tapered back. A fine tush that fit well inside my cupped hands. I wanted warm chocolate chip cookies. And sex with Gil before that.

“We goin’ in?” Chicken Boy bumped into my backside.

“That’s him,” I said, losing all sexual desires.

Chicken Boy crouched to peer through the doorway. His beak must have captured someone’s attention. Workers turned toward our door and chuckled. “Hate it when they laugh at me,” the boy said, adjusting his wing feathers.

“They laugh
with
you,” I said, right before he yanked the door open.

Chapter 14

Most of the restaurant’s patrons snickered while Chicken Boy strutted, his wings bumping the sides of his stout stomach until he reached Gil.

I crept inside. Chicken Boy faced Gil and sang the birthday song. People around them all clapped. In a cracking voice, Chicken Boy added, “And we hope you have many, many mo-o-ore.”

Gil’s deep-throated laughter erupted. “Cealie!” he said, striding toward me. “I should have known you were involved.”

He embraced me. His chest felt warm. Safe. I told myself I should stay here. Gil felt secure. He felt… What he felt like made me horny.

“Happy birthday,” I said, drawing back, my cheeks heating from what I’d been thinking. It involved a picture of Gil naked. Nice picture. Very nice.

With his hug to me, most people went back to eating or their duties. Gil gave me a smile. “I’m glad you remembered.”

“How could I forget?” I again felt only in his space, forgetting others were near. A fake cough reminded me. It sputtered from a hollow space within feathers.

“Excellent job,” Gil told the boy in costume while thrusting out his hand. Chicken Boy shook it, muttered thanks, and looked at me. I pulled out my wallet, but Gil tipped him before I could. The youth looked about nine feet tall when he strutted out. Gil turned a different smile to me. This smile came with his piercing gaze. Parts of me reacted.

A male customer chuckled. He didn’t watch us but conversed with friends at a table. Seafood platters covered its checkered cloth. “I’m starving,” I told Gil.

“You’ve come to the right place.” He led me toward his table, and I glanced around to see if I’d find Legs. No sign of her. I pranced beside Gil. If his current girlfriend were here, I wasn’t sure what I’d do. But I did know that this time I wouldn’t leave without eating.

Gil called a waiter named André, introduced us, and said I was a special guest. Then he told me, “We have crayfish.”

“Yum,” was all I had to say.

“Please bring her a double serving,” Gil said to André. “Two dips to go with it, and a Bud Light.”

When André left, Gil peered at me. “Cealie, you look…” He may have wanted to say something like great, but his gaze skittered to my hair. I smoothed it, almost saying duty hair. But I didn’t want him to know about my teaching since he’d already expressed an opinion about me getting involved in the investigation. “I’m driving a convertible,” I said, and he responded with that fabulous grin.

A busboy cleared the table beside ours. Gil complimented him on the way he lifted every condiment and sprayed the tablecloth. “Thanks, Mr. Thurman.” Wires on the boy’s teeth shone with his smile, reminding me of Cynthia Petre’s braces and the complaints I had heard in the lounge.

“Gil,” I said, and he inclined his head to listen. “When someone is hired to clean a school, would the school personnel hire that person?”

“I believe the school board does that, although someone from the school might make a recommendation. Why?”

Assorted crackers and my beer arrived just in time. “I wondered.” I swigged the beer, buttered some crackers, and ate.

Gil’s face lit with a smile. “I see that you didn’t cook again.”

“Nope.” I guzzled more crackers.

He seemed pleased to sit back and watch me. “Wish I could get crayfish every day,” Gil said. “Just for you.”

“I’m flattered.”

He leaned forward, making my whole torso heat up. “How are things going with Kat?” he asked.

“Ah, Kat.” I lost my body warmth. “She went to school yesterday. But not today.”

His forehead wrinkled. “Make sure you keep me up on graduation. You know I want to be there. If she decides to graduate.”

I promised to let him know, and Gil waved to get his manager’s attention. He made introductions between Jim Harris and me. Gil whispered to Jim, who gave me a grin and then strode to the mike on stage and announced, “Joke contest time.”

I smiled at Gil. He was having this now for me. “One of these days, you’ll have to get up and tell one,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll be second. Right after you.”

“Touché.”

A young man wearing a fraternity T-shirt hopped up from a table with other males dressed like him. He reached the mike. “Boudreaux’s cat was sick, so Thibodaux drove him and his cat to the vet. The vet put the cat on a table, ran his hand back and forth over it, and gave Boudreaux two pills. ‘Give him these,’ the vet said. ‘That’ll be three hundred dollars.’”

We all snickered about the charge and then waited for the punch line.

“‘Three hundred dollars!’ Boudreaux cried. ‘Just for two pills?’ The vet shook his head and said, ‘The pills only cost fifty cents. The rest is for the CAT scan.’”

Everyone laughed. The jokester bowed, hopped down, and joined his approving friends.

“That was great,” I told Gil, and he agreed.

A plump older guy with a perky smile reached the mike. “Boudreaux and Thibodaux went out fishing, and the fish started biting like crazy. Finally it was getting dark, and they had to go home. Halfway down the canal, Boudreaux asked Thibodaux, ‘Did you mark that good spot so we can find it again?’ Well ole Thibodaux said, ‘I sure did. Look here.’ He pointed to a big X he had painted inside the boat.”

We all chuckled. The man held up a hand for us to quiet and then said, “And Boudreaux replied, ‘Thibodaux, you did a good job.’”

Everybody laughed. The chunky man bounced back to his seat. “That was great, too,” I told Gil.

People glanced at each other, but no one else went up. Gil waved for the manager and told him something. He returned to the mike. “I think we all agree that our jokesters were terrific, so we’re declaring both of them winners.”

Cheers of approval erupted. “How nice of you,” I told Gil. He brushed off his deed with a shake of his head. The restaurant quieted. So did our table. Gil kept staring at me.

I wanted to stop feeling his magnetic pull. To my relief, André showed up with a tray piled high with red crustaceans smelling of crab boil. “I adore you,” I told André.

He grinned, and Gil asked him to bring me another beer. I popped off the head of a boiled crawfish and murmured, “Mmmm.”

Gil leaned back. “You’re getting pretty turned on.”

Happily, I swallowed cold beer. I cracked open more crayfish, ate some without dip and drenched others through the pink well-seasoned cream before sinking my teeth into their chewy bodies. “I could say this is better than any sex I’ve ever had,” I said between munching, and Gil’s eyebrows shot up. “But you’d know better,” I said, to which his brows lowered and he smirked.

I offered to share, but he’d already eaten. Gil preferred boiled seafood in the evening. I needed to have crayfish sooner or later, but sooner was always better.

With my immediate need of avoiding starvation satisfied, my mind flitted to concerns from the day. My locked door, a broken vial, spilled chemicals. Some other chemicals spilled near a door that locked a teacher resembling Marisa Hernandez in the custodians’ room. A stretcher hauling her out. I prayed she was all right.

I wanted to tell Gil about all of this. I’d also mention that some person called me a bitch. How rude. Avoiding Gil’s steady gaze on me, I considered the words penned on the mail truck—could they have been a real threat? Or had the kids who’d keyed my Lexus and kicked in its door decided they’d ruin another of my vehicles?

A mental scroll reminded me that I’d seen the spirit stick returned to the office window. Maybe I should’ve taken that long stick and stood guard in the parking lot.

Gil waited for me to say something. How I wanted to discuss all that happened. But he’d warned me. And if I’d heeded his advice, I never would have been around Sidmore High. A crustacean’s claw reminded me of what I had seen in Harry Wren’s office. “I’ve decided to raise a plant,” I said. “A cactus.”

“Ah.” Gil’s gaze met mine, saying he wanted more from me than I was mentioning. We’d never spoken about our breakup, about what our lives had really been like since then. I didn’t need to hear about his finding someone else.

I ate, my peelings creating a nice mound. I was sipping beer when I spied Gil’s girlfriend. Swells of people had poured into the restaurant for early dinner, and Legs was bent over. From the alcove near the front door, she eyed us.

“What is it?” Gil asked.

“Nothing.” I looked at my food, not wanting him to see her yet. At least let me gobble a few more crayfish before she came to join him. Gil, the gentleman, would tell me to stay. But would I want to?

No way.
I
chose to stop being with him, I reminded myself, choking down the anguish balling up in my throat.

“You aren’t finished already?” he said.

I mumbled, trying to wipe my mouth, clean my hands, and rise at the same time. “This was wonderful. Thank you.” I put my hand out to shake his. “Do I owe you anything?”

“Of course not. You’re leaving?”

I kept my body distant from his. He hadn’t yet noticed his tall lady friend. “I have so many things to do,” I said, unable to think of one to mention. “I hope you’ll enjoy the remainder of your birthday.”

Legs had shifted over. Gil saw her, and they exchanged brilliant smiles. One man and his current girlfriend and his ex would absolutely crowd a table. Before I would hear Gil speak to her in a lovey-dovey tone, I scooted to the front door.

I passed the crowd coming into Cajun Delights without glancing at Legs, and I drove away, feeling my eyes burn. Surely caused by the crayfish’s peppery steam? I was probably stuffed and tired from the day’s work, I decided, although I couldn’t remember when I had put in so few hours in a workday. I also couldn’t recall ever having left a job so exhausted.

Daylight was evaporating when I reached the condo. I would call Kat. My weary body told me to rest a few minutes first. I kicked off my shoes and fell back in bed with arms against my sides, reminding myself of Mrs. Peekers on that stretcher. Pictures filtered through my head—bloody car hoods, huge chickens with black nylon stockings on their heads, Gil shirtless.

My right eye cracked open. I shook my head to rid it of unwanted scenes and spied the hands of my travel alarm indicating it was eight o’clock.

Surprised to find my back stiff, I rose to get a shower and then dive into nightclothes. I was thirsty and moseyed to the kitchen for a drink. Bright light popped through the curtains. “It’s morning!” I said, almost swearing. Minnie’s lone stem leaned toward me. “Why didn’t you wake me?” I said, pouring myself water, remembering Harry Wren’s warning about not flooding a cactus.

I returned to the bedroom, determining that I’d probably slept without moving. I glanced in the bathroom mirror and groaned. One side of my face looked the same color as crayfish, about the same shade as curdled blood.

I phoned Kat. “Morning,” I said. “No arguments please, let’s go shopping.”

She made a small snicker. Good to hear. “When?”

“Whenever your malls open on a Saturday.” Before she could mull on that, I said, “How’s your dad?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Okay, I won’t.” While she seemed to be considering my suggestion, I said, “I’ll take you in a convertible and put the top down. Pick you up about ten.” I hung up before she could decline.

Finally, I would be able to talk to her. With Kat thrust into emotional abandon while buying clothes, I could learn more and appeal to her common sense. And away from their house and the school, I’d get to spend quality time with her.

I covered the red markings on my cheek with makeup and put on dressy casuals. “What a great day!” I told Minnie in the kitchen, hoping my enthusiasm might cheer her. Harry Wren knew so much about growing cacti. I wished I’d thought to ask him about plants’ responses to conversation. One thing I knew, causing my smile to brighten—I wasn’t going around that school again to ask him.

I grabbed flats from the pantry and went outside. Just from a habit of late, I walked around the Mustang, inspecting. The white color remained pure. No dents. No one had ripped the stallion out of the grill.

A great start to a wonderful day.

* * *

Roger was washing his tan Ford truck in their driveway. Kat’s faded red Chevy sat in front of it.

I strolled up to Roger, and he quit hosing and used one arm to hug me. “How’ve you been doing?” he asked. I said fine and inquired about his work. “It’s all right. Kat’s inside,” he said, finished with our conversation.

I stepped away, thought, and turned back. “What about graduation? Are you ready to go?”

His first expression was that blank, distant look. Then Roger’s eyes brightened and he smiled. “I sure am.” He knew how important Kat’s graduation was to Nancy. He probably didn’t know Kat’s current plans. He would soon enough if she chose not to go through with the ceremony. But Roger looked cheerful now, with the expectation that she would. I couldn’t steal that cheer from him.

“We’ll all get together to do something soon,” I said.