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Authors: Maggie Shayne
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stretched across its back, sipping his beer.
Vince frowned. "You psychic, or do you just have a bionic ear?"
Marty grinned. "Doris asked me for your cell phone number. Told me Holly was gonna call and invite you."
Vince said, "Now you're feeding another one of those small-town stereotypes. The one where everyone knows everyone else's business."
Marty's grin faded. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just that, uh ... well, you know she
is
my niece."
"Yeah. I know. Do you mind that she asked me?"
"No. No, it isn't that. I just... look, Holly's ... fragile."
Vince nodded. "I kind of picked up on that."
"You could tell, huh? I didn't think it showed so much anymore."
"It doesn't," he said quickly. "Not in her, anyway. But everyone else around here acts likes she's made of glass." It wasn't entirely true. He did see it in her, during that episode outside his cabin. But there was something rubbing him the wrong way about the protective attitudes of those around her. He wasn't sure why, but it bugged him.
"Look, you only just met her. If we seem a little protective of her, we have reason," Marty said. Maybe a touch on the defensive side now.
"I picked up on that, too," Vince said. "Would I be out of line to ask what the reason is?"
Marty looked him in the eyes for a moment, then tipped back his beer, draining it, set the can on the coffee table, and got to his feet. "I'll come by in the morning to put that new lock in."
Vince was aware he'd stepped over the line. "I might not be here in the morning. I have some errands to run. But don't let that stop you."
"Didn't plan to," Marty said. "It's my cabin." Then he picked up his tool box and headed out. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow night at the bonfire."
Vince nodded. Then he realized he'd just answered the man's initial question as to whether or not he'd accepted Holly's invitation.
"Not bad, Marty," Vince said. "You'd have made a decent cop."
"I make a better uncle," he replied. "You watch your step with Holly. I don't want to see her hurt." He gave a nod of good-bye, and walked down the steps to the path.
"Don't you worry, Uncle Marty," Vince muttered as he watched the man vanish around the curve. "I like my women tough as nails with a hide like old leather. I don't do fragile."
* * *
VINCE HAD SOME serious shopping to do on Saturday. Marty had arrived early, ready to install the new lock, just as Vince was heading out to run his errands, which gave Vince a chance to ask him about the vacant phone jack in the bedroom wall. He learned that a call to the local telephone company and payment in advance could turn it on, giving him two lines to work with. He folded up his laptop, pocketed his cell phone, and headed out.
He drove all the way back to the city. It took longer than he'd hoped it would, to pick up supplies at home, and find most of what he needed at the retail outlets. He then met Jerry for a quick lunch and an even quicker conversation.
Jerry nodded toward Vince's Jeep beyond their booth window. Boxes stacked in the back showed through the tinted glass. "Been shopping?"
"Yeah. Gave the old plastic a workout this morning."
"So, what's the connection you're onto, buddy?"
Vince shook his head.
"Can't tell you that. Not yet, anyway. Did you get what I asked you for?"
"Yeah. And it's damned interesting, Vince." He slid a fat manila envelope across the table, and Vince picked it up. But before he could ask what was inside, a uniformed cop walked through the door.
Vince took the envelope and slid out of the booth. He was supposed to be on vacation. If anyone saw him in town, much less meeting with his partner and exchanging large envelopes, questions would surely come up. And Jerry could get into as much trouble as Vince.
Jerry started to get up, too, but Vince held up a hand. He'd just slip out alone while the cop's back was to him.
Jerry understood, and gave a nod. "Be careful, buddy. And call if you need me."
"I will."
Vince walked out of the diner with the
Vince frowned. "You psychic, or do you just have a bionic ear?"
Marty grinned. "Doris asked me for your cell phone number. Told me Holly was gonna call and invite you."
Vince said, "Now you're feeding another one of those small-town stereotypes. The one where everyone knows everyone else's business."
Marty's grin faded. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just that, uh ... well, you know she
is
my niece."
"Yeah. I know. Do you mind that she asked me?"
"No. No, it isn't that. I just... look, Holly's ... fragile."
Vince nodded. "I kind of picked up on that."
"You could tell, huh? I didn't think it showed so much anymore."
"It doesn't," he said quickly. "Not in her, anyway. But everyone else around here acts likes she's made of glass." It wasn't entirely true. He did see it in her, during that episode outside his cabin. But there was something rubbing him the wrong way about the protective attitudes of those around her. He wasn't sure why, but it bugged him.
"Look, you only just met her. If we seem a little protective of her, we have reason," Marty said. Maybe a touch on the defensive side now.
"I picked up on that, too," Vince said. "Would I be out of line to ask what the reason is?"
Marty looked him in the eyes for a moment, then tipped back his beer, draining it, set the can on the coffee table, and got to his feet. "I'll come by in the morning to put that new lock in."
Vince was aware he'd stepped over the line. "I might not be here in the morning. I have some errands to run. But don't let that stop you."
"Didn't plan to," Marty said. "It's my cabin." Then he picked up his tool box and headed out. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow night at the bonfire."
Vince nodded. Then he realized he'd just answered the man's initial question as to whether or not he'd accepted Holly's invitation.
"Not bad, Marty," Vince said. "You'd have made a decent cop."
"I make a better uncle," he replied. "You watch your step with Holly. I don't want to see her hurt." He gave a nod of good-bye, and walked down the steps to the path.
"Don't you worry, Uncle Marty," Vince muttered as he watched the man vanish around the curve. "I like my women tough as nails with a hide like old leather. I don't do fragile."
* * *
VINCE HAD SOME serious shopping to do on Saturday. Marty had arrived early, ready to install the new lock, just as Vince was heading out to run his errands, which gave Vince a chance to ask him about the vacant phone jack in the bedroom wall. He learned that a call to the local telephone company and payment in advance could turn it on, giving him two lines to work with. He folded up his laptop, pocketed his cell phone, and headed out.
He drove all the way back to the city. It took longer than he'd hoped it would, to pick up supplies at home, and find most of what he needed at the retail outlets. He then met Jerry for a quick lunch and an even quicker conversation.
Jerry nodded toward Vince's Jeep beyond their booth window. Boxes stacked in the back showed through the tinted glass. "Been shopping?"
"Yeah. Gave the old plastic a workout this morning."
"So, what's the connection you're onto, buddy?"
Vince shook his head.
"Can't tell you that. Not yet, anyway. Did you get what I asked you for?"
"Yeah. And it's damned interesting, Vince." He slid a fat manila envelope across the table, and Vince picked it up. But before he could ask what was inside, a uniformed cop walked through the door.
Vince took the envelope and slid out of the booth. He was supposed to be on vacation. If anyone saw him in town, much less meeting with his partner and exchanging large envelopes, questions would surely come up. And Jerry could get into as much trouble as Vince.
Jerry started to get up, too, but Vince held up a hand. He'd just slip out alone while the cop's back was to him.
Jerry understood, and gave a nod. "Be careful, buddy. And call if you need me."
"I will."
Vince walked out of the diner with the
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