on the TV and heard the morning news reporting that a woman’s body was found in Daffin Park by a garbage street crew. No details were given regarding the cause of her death, but the reporter described the woman to be in her early forties, and apparently she had been robbed. I’d assumed murdered. Police were on the case. For some reason, she remained on my mind for the rest of the morning. She, along with the mystery guy from the night before. I heard his voice over and over in my head, and for some strange reason, I liked it. Don’t ask me why.
Sunday was the only day of the week I closed Inksomnia, and I spent the rest of the morning with Estelle. Seth seemed to have his days and nights mixed up, and he spent the majority of the day sleeping. He never had a fever, so I didn’t run him to the ER. But I watched him, and he just wasn’t himself. Not sick, just not himself . Whenever he was awake, he had his shades on, and he was quiet, aloof, and . . . not Seth Poe at all. Usually my brother was a sweet, charming kid, with a great sense of humor. I know things change when puberty hits, but this was ridiculous. The change had happened overnight. Now, when he slept, he slept like the dead—literally. I could barely rouse him. And Chaz’s behavior toward Seth just didn’t make sense. He growled every time Seth entered the same room. Chaz had never been anything but loving and faithful to all of us, especially Seth, and the dog usually slept on the foot of Seth’s bed. It was just bizarre, and to be perfectly honest, it was starting to freak me out. I wished Preacher were here to check him over, but he wasn’t due back from Da Island until Tuesday. Until then, I’d nurse the peculiar feeling nagging the pit of my gut.
And for the record, I never again saw that guy from the storefront. Yeah, shamefully, I found myself looking for him, and yeah, it’d only been one day. But he never stopped by again, and I admitted only to myself that I was disappointed. I think it stung a little, too. I had no idea why, but it did.
Sunday afternoon I asked Estelle to keep an eye out for Seth while I picked up a few things at the grocery store. I threw on a pair of button-fly jeans and a white Inksomnia tee. (Okay—I self-promote. Can you blame me? Plus the logo is wicked cool.) I pulled on my black boots and headed out. Food Lion was packed, and I hurried through my list. The moment I left the store, I felt . . . watched. People pushed their grocery carts all around me, the parking lot was full, yet out of all the eyes surrounding me, I sensed only one pair honed in on me. With my shades covering my gaze, I looked around. I saw no one paying any particular attention to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the vigilante watched from his car, or from another store.
When I got home, Seth was still asleep. I made sure he was okay—still no fever, still breathing—and wandered outside with Chaz to the riverfront. Capote was just a few yards up the walk playing, so I found a bench close by; he gave me a nod of acknowledgment, and I listened while I nibbled on a praline from the sweet shop. The walk was still crawling with people, so I ended up sharing the bench with an elderly couple, Chaz at my feet. With my peripheral I noticed them both sneaking peeks at me, and the smirk on Capote’s face let me know he noticed, too. I guess my dragons entertained all age-groups.
I decided to walk along the riverfront for a while, just to stretch my legs and give Chaz a little exercise, so I threw a twenty in Capote’s sax case. He tipped his hat, and I waved, and Chaz and I wandered off. There was a slight breeze blowing, the sun was starting to drop, and it seemed like a perfect August evening. The Savannah River Queen was just pulling in from a river tour, and the passengers lined the railing, waving. The Shrimp Factory’s grill spilled the mouthwatering scent of seared spiced meat. Yet the whole time I walked, I felt as though someone
Sunday was the only day of the week I closed Inksomnia, and I spent the rest of the morning with Estelle. Seth seemed to have his days and nights mixed up, and he spent the majority of the day sleeping. He never had a fever, so I didn’t run him to the ER. But I watched him, and he just wasn’t himself. Not sick, just not himself . Whenever he was awake, he had his shades on, and he was quiet, aloof, and . . . not Seth Poe at all. Usually my brother was a sweet, charming kid, with a great sense of humor. I know things change when puberty hits, but this was ridiculous. The change had happened overnight. Now, when he slept, he slept like the dead—literally. I could barely rouse him. And Chaz’s behavior toward Seth just didn’t make sense. He growled every time Seth entered the same room. Chaz had never been anything but loving and faithful to all of us, especially Seth, and the dog usually slept on the foot of Seth’s bed. It was just bizarre, and to be perfectly honest, it was starting to freak me out. I wished Preacher were here to check him over, but he wasn’t due back from Da Island until Tuesday. Until then, I’d nurse the peculiar feeling nagging the pit of my gut.
And for the record, I never again saw that guy from the storefront. Yeah, shamefully, I found myself looking for him, and yeah, it’d only been one day. But he never stopped by again, and I admitted only to myself that I was disappointed. I think it stung a little, too. I had no idea why, but it did.
Sunday afternoon I asked Estelle to keep an eye out for Seth while I picked up a few things at the grocery store. I threw on a pair of button-fly jeans and a white Inksomnia tee. (Okay—I self-promote. Can you blame me? Plus the logo is wicked cool.) I pulled on my black boots and headed out. Food Lion was packed, and I hurried through my list. The moment I left the store, I felt . . . watched. People pushed their grocery carts all around me, the parking lot was full, yet out of all the eyes surrounding me, I sensed only one pair honed in on me. With my shades covering my gaze, I looked around. I saw no one paying any particular attention to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the vigilante watched from his car, or from another store.
When I got home, Seth was still asleep. I made sure he was okay—still no fever, still breathing—and wandered outside with Chaz to the riverfront. Capote was just a few yards up the walk playing, so I found a bench close by; he gave me a nod of acknowledgment, and I listened while I nibbled on a praline from the sweet shop. The walk was still crawling with people, so I ended up sharing the bench with an elderly couple, Chaz at my feet. With my peripheral I noticed them both sneaking peeks at me, and the smirk on Capote’s face let me know he noticed, too. I guess my dragons entertained all age-groups.
I decided to walk along the riverfront for a while, just to stretch my legs and give Chaz a little exercise, so I threw a twenty in Capote’s sax case. He tipped his hat, and I waved, and Chaz and I wandered off. There was a slight breeze blowing, the sun was starting to drop, and it seemed like a perfect August evening. The Savannah River Queen was just pulling in from a river tour, and the passengers lined the railing, waving. The Shrimp Factory’s grill spilled the mouthwatering scent of seared spiced meat. Yet the whole time I walked, I felt as though someone
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