Wild & Hexy (7 page)

It was obviously Clara’s day at the Bob and Weave Hair Salon, because a purple cape covered her ample bosom, her hair was wrapped in foil and she carried her Chihuahua, named Bud, in her arms. Clara was too impatient to wait at the salon while her hair color processed, so she ran errands while the dye worked its magic.

‘‘Good morning, Clara,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘Good morning, Bud.’’

Bud, of course, started frantically barking. Bud barked at everything.

Clara eyed them with suspicion. ‘‘I think that scooter upsets Bud. I’ve noticed he’s very sensitive to the color red.’’ Tucking the squirming dog under her arm, Clara marched across the street.

‘‘Nice to see you both,’’ Ambrose called after them.

Dorcas laughed. ‘‘You’ll never charm Clara. She doesn’t trust anyone unless they were born and raised here.’’

‘‘Forget Clara. I’m working on the dog. I think he likes me better already.’’ Ambrose piloted the scooter past the square and continued on Fifth in the direction of the Whispering Forest.

Outside of town, trees covered in new green leaves arched over the two-lane road. Dorcas took a deep breath and savored the loamy scent of plants coming to life. Up ahead, the granite splendor of Big Knob thrust 192 feet into the air.

Dorcas gazed at the town’s namesake. ‘‘How long since we’ve had outdoor sex?’’

‘‘Too long. I’m not used to these cold winters.’’

‘‘Me, either.’’ Back in Sedona they’d been able to have outdoor sex almost year-round, but sex in the snow wasn’t her idea of fun.

‘‘I don’t think we should try it in the Whispering Forest, though,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘Just our luck George would decide to patrol at that very moment and he’d be traumatized for life.’’

‘‘He would, now that we’ve become parental figures to him.’’

‘‘The lake’s not such a good spot for outdoor sex right now, either,’’ Ambrose said.

‘‘Because of Dee-Dee?’’

‘‘Dear Zeus, I forgot about her!’’ Ambrose swerved onto the side road leading into the forest and stopped the scooter in a spray of loose dirt.

‘‘Ambrose, for Hera’s sake! What’s wrong with you?’’

Turning in his seat, he looked back at Dorcas. ‘‘Jeremy and Annie will be kayaking across the lake this evening. We have to stop them!’’

‘‘We’ll do no such thing.’’

‘‘But what about Dee-Dee? We don’t know what she might do. We can’t endanger—’’

‘‘I talked with her again this morning. In fact, I took Sabrina with me.’’

Ambrose’s face turned the color of merlot and he could barely speak. ‘‘You—you
promised
you wouldn’t pursue that if we took on Jeremy and Annie’s case!’’

‘‘I said I’d put it on the back burner. Which I have. I got up very early, before we had anything scheduled, so that’s back burner to the tenth power. You didn’t even know I was gone, did you?’’

‘‘That’s beside the point, and you took
Sabrina
. She would have been a one-bite snack for that creature, a cheese puff, a snickerdoodle, a—’’

‘‘Nonsense. Dee-Dee’s a vegetarian. Anyway, now Sabrina and Dee-Dee are friends. Dee-Dee took Sabrina on a ride around the lake this morning.’’

"She
what
?"

‘‘It’s really adorable, Ambrose. Sabrina perches on Dee-Dee’s head, and off they go. Sabrina sits up there with her ears back and her fur blowing in the wind. She
loves
it. I wish I’d had a camera.’’

Openmouthed, Ambrose stared at her.

She patted his cheek. ‘‘Don’t worry about Dee-Dee, sweetheart. I’m on the case.’’

Jeremy expected to see Annie sometime during the day because she’d have to send another story to the
Tribune
. He thought she might come in after lunch, but he was pleasantly surprised when she showed up before noon.

Click-or-Treat was busy. A whole crowd of teenagers often stopped by during their lunch hour to check e-mail, and today they’d also shown up to check out his story in the
Trib
. Consequently the place was jammed when Annie walked in the front door.

She was carrying her black trench coat instead of wearing it, and when he got a look at her tight jeans and form-fitting red T-shirt, he felt like a cartoon character with spring-loaded eyes.
Boing.

He waved to her and she waved back, but a quick glance around the café told him that every terminal was in use. He evaluated who he could bump to give her access and settled on Tony, who was supposed to start working in twenty minutes, anyway. ‘‘I need you to take a break,’’ he said as he approached the teenager. ‘‘Annie’s here to file her story for the
Tribune
.’’

‘‘You’ve got it, Boss.’’ Tony signed off and stood. ‘‘Look, I’ve been thinking about her, and if you’re not inclined that way, then how about if I—’’

Jeremy grabbed Tony by the back of the neck. ‘‘Listen up. I am not gay,’’ he said in a low voice that sounded so macho he almost ruined the effect by laughing. He couldn’t explain this sudden personality change of his, but he was beginning to realize it was fun.

Tony held up both hands. ‘‘Easy, dude. I believe you. Never thought you were. Seriously.’’

‘‘Yeah, you did, but it’s okay.’’ Jeremy gave him a friendly push toward the counter. ‘‘Have a macchiato on the house.’’

‘‘I’m all over that.’’ Tony gave Annie a smile as he walked by her on his way to the counter. ‘‘Welcome back.’’

‘‘Thanks.’’ Her answering smile seemed to light up the entire café.

‘‘I cleared a terminal for you.’’ Jeremy watched her approach as X-rated fantasies danced in his head. Tonight, they’d be alone on the far side of the lake. He might never have another chance like that, and he was determined not to blow it.

‘‘Looks like you booted Tony off.’’

‘‘Tony doesn’t have a newspaper editor breathing down his neck.’’ Jeremy would love to breathe down Annie’s neck, and nibble her earlobe, and take that gold hoop earring in his teeth, tugging gently while he—

‘‘Annie!’’ Bobble-head shop owner Billie Smoot, her impossibly blond hair sticking out in all directions and something red staining her orange sweatshirt, charged through the front door. The bobble-head dolls she clutched in each hand gyrated madly as she rushed over to Annie’s terminal. ‘‘I found Dolly Parton and Cleopatra!’’

Annie leaped up, seemingly as excited as Billie. ‘‘Terrific! Did you find Jesus?’’

Billie sighed. ‘‘I couldn’t find Jesus. I searched high and low, but either I’ve lost him or I sold him and forgot to write it down in my ledger.’’

‘‘I’m glad you didn’t lose Dolly.’’ Tony ambled over sipping his macchiato. ‘‘She was my favorite bobble-head.’’

‘‘She’s very different, all right.’’ Billie jiggled her hand. ‘‘Only one with a bobble head and bobble boobs.’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ Tony said, gazing at the doll with an expression of worship.

‘‘I’ve lost the stand, though. Without that stand, if you set her down she falls flat on her face.’’

‘‘No duh.’’ Tony reached for the bobble-head. ‘‘I’ll buy her for half-price.’’

Billie jerked Dolly out of reach. ‘‘She’s not for sale. This is a priceless, one-of-a-kind bobble-head, and I could still find the stand. I probably lost it in the move.’’ She surveyed the café. ‘‘What a nightmare that was.’’

‘‘It was a trying time for all of us,’’ Jeremy said. Selling the building to Jeremy and moving had been Billie’s idea, but getting 527 bobble-heads out of here and into her new digs had been more than she’d bargained for. She’d insisted on bubble-wrapping each one. Twice.

In the end, because Jeremy was so desperate to get his business up and running, he’d helped wrap. The process had dragged on for days, and the pop of a bubble-wrap chamber still made him quiver.

‘‘Too bad about Dolly’s stand,’’ Annie said. ‘‘But we can make do without it for the picture.’’ She dug in her tote and pulled out her camera. ‘‘Stand right there and I’ll get a shot of you holding both of them.’’

‘‘Egads, I look like a fright. Bad hair day. And the ketchup exploded when I was doctoring my scrambled eggs this morning.’’ Billie shoved the bobble-heads into Jeremy’s arms. ‘‘You hold ’em.’’

‘‘I’ll be glad to hold Dolly,’’ Tony said, his gaze hopeful.

‘‘That would be cute,’’ Annie said. ‘‘Two guys, each with a sex-symbol bobble-head.’’ She glanced at Billie. ‘‘Okay with you?’’

‘‘If he’s careful.’’

‘‘Yes!’’ Tony punched a fist in the air. ‘‘I’ll be in the
Trib
holding a Dolly Parton bobble-boob doll!’’

‘‘And holding it very carefully,’’ Jeremy said as he turned over the doll.

‘‘No problemo, dude.’’ Tony took the doll and only made it jiggle once before squaring up next to Jeremy for the picture.

Annie clicked the shutter. ‘‘That’s good. Now all we need is a little magic to make this complete.’’

Jeremy prayed the trick would work the way it had this morning with Ambrose. He made a fist with his free hand. ‘‘Abracadabra!’’ When he opened his hand, a red rose lay across his palm, its petals glistening with dew. He had no clue how he’d manifested that rose.

Ambrose had said it was an instinctive thing, but Jeremy was beginning to think there was something very peculiar about Ambrose. For now, though, Jeremy had decided to muzzle his curiosity and reap the rewards. Like, for instance, Annie’s admiration.

‘‘Bravo!’’ She put down her camera and clapped enthusiastically. ‘‘That was terrific, Jeremy. I don’t know how you did it.’’

‘‘Professional secret,’’ he said.

‘‘I’m sure.’’ Annie picked up her camera again. ‘‘That stunt is going in the story.’’ She snapped another picture of Tony clutching Dolly and Jeremy holding Cleopatra and a perfect red rose.

Billie peered at Jeremy. ‘‘You were always such a quiet boy, Jeremy Dunstan. Since when did you get so jazzy?’’

Jeremy looked over at Annie and winked. He’d never winked at a girl in his life, but this time it came easily. Then he turned to Billie. ‘‘People change,’’ he said.

The clearing was empty when Dorcas and Ambrose climbed off the scooter.

"He’s not here," Ambrose said. "Typical."

"We’ll wait a while.’’ Dorcas paced the clearing and studied the surrounding forest of pine and oak with a few sycamores sprinkled in. Was that a pair of disembodied eyes floating in the shadows? George loved to use his gift of invisibility, where the only thing anyone could see were his red eyes . . .

Ambrose crossed his arms over his chest. ‘‘I’ll bet he’s still snoring away in his cave.’’

‘‘We’ll give him a few minutes.’’ Dorcas sat down on a stump in the middle of the clearing.

‘‘Do you think we should tell him about Dee-Dee?’’

‘‘I’m not sure. I—wait a minute.’’ Dorcas held up her hand. ‘‘I smell smoke.’’

‘‘And where there’s smoke, there’s me!’’ George materialized in a dramatic flash of light. He towered twelve feet in the air and might have looked fearsome except for his loopy grin and the white iPod dangling around his neck.

Dorcas had given him the iPod months ago. She had called it a peace offering and Ambrose had called it a bribe. Whatever it was called, George was never without it. Dorcas kept him supplied with downloads and believed the iPod helped keep the relationship cordial.

‘‘Great Zeus!’’ Ambrose leaped aside to avoid being smacked with the dragon’s swishing tail. ‘‘Did you have to startle us like that?’’

‘‘Absolutely, dude. That’s how I get my groove on. So what’s the four-one-one on this Dee-Dee chick?’’

Dorcas decided he might as well know. He’d find out eventually, and better that he hear it from them than from one of the forest creatures. George regularly played Texas hold ’em with the raccoons, and raccoons were known for spreading gossip.

‘‘Dee-Dee’s a lake monster,’’ Dorcas said.

‘‘Okay. I’m cool with that. But what does a lake monster have to do with yours truly?’’

‘‘Well, nothing, really. But I thought you might hear stories that she’s living in Deep Lake and wonder about her.’’

George blinked. ‘‘She’s living right behind your house?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘You’re gonna send her packing, right? Big Knob is a one-monster town, and I’m it.’’

Just like that, Dorcas came face-to-face with sibling rivalry. No wonder she’d never had children. ‘‘For one thing, she’s been here longer than you have.’’

‘‘So what? Once I showed up, she was overkill, excess baggage. She might as well suck it up and leave.’’

Dorcas sighed. ‘‘It’s not quite that simple. She’s huge, and we can’t just spirit her away.’’

‘‘That’s your story.’’

‘‘And it’s not only her size.’’ Dorcas wished she’d never started this conversation. She glanced over at Ambrose, hoping for some backup, but he merely shrugged, the turncoat. ‘‘Dee-Dee’s lonely.’’

‘‘And you know this how?’’

‘‘I’ve talked with her.’’

‘‘Isn’t that special.’’ George’s lower lip stuck out in what could only be called a pout. His wicked teeth and the horn on his snout made the expression look a little strange, but there was no denying his reaction. ‘‘Can’t she make her own friends? I made
my
own friends. I’m sure there’s a fish or two she could hang out with.’’

‘‘I doubt she’d have much in common with them.’’

‘‘So you’re all about Dee-Dee now. That’s cool.’’ George attached his earbuds and began undulating to the music only he could hear. ‘‘Uh-huh, oh yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.’’

‘‘George,’’ Dorcas said, loud enough that she figured he could hear through the earbuds. ‘‘You are our primary responsibility. We’ll never shirk our duty to you because of Dee-Dee.’’

‘‘Shirk away.’’ George kept dancing. ‘‘See if I care. I suppose you forgot my present. Or maybe you gave it to Miss Lonely-in-the-Lake.’’