Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (12 page)

“Harley and I are, too.” Ruby’s forehead wrinkled. “We’ve
changed the locks and nailed the basement window closed. Plus, Jess knows to
lock up before she turns off the light.”

“Good.”

“But if someone’s fixin’ to break in, they’ll find a way.”

That’s what he feared. “Where are the spare keys?”

“There are two sets: one in my nightstand, the other behind
the bar.”

“Do you still have Joe’s old double-barreled 12-gauge and
the snub-nosed .357 stashed in your closet?”

She nodded.

“You should probably let Claire know about both guns and
where you keep the ammo, since she’ll be running the show here when Harley and
you are on your honeymoon.” If anything happened to Claire and Jess while Ruby
was gone, Mac would shift into Dirty Harry mode. “Make sure she knows how to
use at least one of them.”

“Good idea.” Ruby sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I
sure hate living like this. I keep bouncing back and forth between fixin’ to
form a lynch mob and jumping at every little bump in the night.”

Mac hated to admit it, but maybe Claire had the right idea
about hunting down the burglar. Playing defense day after day made sleeping
soundly a pipedream, which reminded him of another question he’d pondered
before the sun crested the horizon. “Where’s everyone going to sleep while you’re
gone?”

“Jess will be in her own bed, of course. Deborah and Kate
can choose if they want to shack up here or just stay in Harley’s R.V. Claire
and you can sleep in our bed.”

“Not if Deborah has her way.” Mac stabbed at a piece of egg
with his fork. He didn’t relish the idea of facing off with Claire’s mom over
the next couple of weeks. “That woman makes Lizzie Borden seem like Minnie
Mouse.”

“Now, Mac.” Ruby patted his arm. “I’m sure her bark is worse
than her bite.”

“Have you been bitten yet?” He chomped on a piece of bacon,
the smoky taste coating his tongue. Ah, bacon. It made everything tolerable,
even Claire’s mom.

She stopped patting. “Uh, no. At least I don’t think so.”

“Well, I have, a couple of times now.”

He stirred his coffee, remembering the first time he’d met
Claire’s mom and had listened to her pointed comments about Claire’s poor
judgment when it came to picking men. Deborah had made it crystal clear that
Mac was on the low end of her scale for suitable bachelors.

“She has sharp nails,” he warned. “Watch your back.”

Jess breezed into the kitchen, her hair pulled back in a
ponytail, several envelopes in her hand. Smelling like fruity bubblegum, she
flopped onto the seat next to Mac and smiled. “Mornin’. Who has sharp nails?”
She turned to Ruby without missing a beat. “Can I have some coffee?”

Ruby pushed to her feet. “You can have some orange juice or
tomato juice, but no coffee.”

“Come on, Mom.” Jess pouted.

“You know the deal, not until you’re sixteen.”

“That’s less than two weeks away. Just let me have half a
cup now. C’mon, please.”

“Nope.” Setting a glass of orange juice on the table in
front of Jess, Ruby kissed her daughter on the forehead.

“Fine.” Jess let out a long, loud sigh, obviously carrying
the weight of the world on her freckled shoulders. She tossed the envelopes she’d
been carrying onto the table. “So, who were you two talking about?”

“Nobody. What are these?” Ruby picked up a letter with her
name on it, her brows drawn as she tore it open.

“Yesterday’s mail. I grabbed it on the way to the Franklin’s
house and forgot it was in my bag.” Jess stole a piece of bacon from Mac’s plate.
“Who were you talking about when I walked in the kitchen?”

“A friend of Claire’s.” He lied, watching his aunt. Ruby’s
cheeks paled visibly then flushed pepper red as her gaze trailed down the page.
“What is it, Ruby?”

She handed him the paper. He recognized the letterhead
immediately. Ruby’s new pen pal, Mr. Leo M. Scott, had written again.

Mac scanned the letter, his eyes focusing on the words
deadline and court date.

“Christ!” He tossed the paper on the table. “It looks like
we’re up shit creek again.”

“Claire?” Jess called as she burst through the R.V. door.

Claire stood in the hall outside of the bathroom,
towel-drying her hair. She placed her finger against her lips and nudged her
head toward the closed bedroom door.

Not wanting to wake the beast, she kept her voice low when
she replied, “Morning, Jess.”

Kate groaned from the couch cushions, rolling so her back
was to them. Henry hopped to the floor, stretched, and waddled over to his food
bowl.

“Mac sent me to tell you he’s leaving,” Jess whispered and
patted Henry on the top of his butt.

Claire dropped her towel. “What?” She stumbled forward, her
feet as surprised as her brain. Last night he’d been pissed at her, but not mad
enough to drive back to Tucson. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Nobody ever tells me anything.”

Claire glanced in the hallway mirror. After a couple of
nights of staring wide-eyed at the ceiling with a bunch of “what-ifs” flapping
around in her head, she looked scary enough to send Ruby’s guests running. But
she’d have to forego a brush and makeup for now and just hope for a solar
eclipse this morning. She needed to talk to Mac, to stop him before he raced
off without hearing her explanation.

Slipping on her flip-flops, she grabbed her sunglasses and
Henry’s leash from the kitchen counter.

“I brought you some breakfast.” Jess offered Claire a
MoonPie with a bite-sized chunk missing.

“Thanks.” Claire exchanged Henry’s leash for food. “Let’s
go. I want to try to catch Mac before he leaves.”

The humidity made the horizon wavy, as if Claire were staring
at it through a fish tank. Henry led the way toward the General Store,
straining at the leash, snapping at bees collecting pollen from the clover that
lined the drive. They shifted to the shoulder, single file with Jess in front,
as a mammoth-sized Fleetwood idled past. The curly-haired blonde behind the
wheel waved and smiled, a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes swirling after her.

Jess coughed exaggeratedly and angled back onto the drive.
Several steps later, she stopped, balanced on one foot, and took off her sandal,
looking like a flamingo with those long, skinny legs of hers.

“Do you think the person who broke into our house was
searching for my money?”

What money? Jess blew every penny she had on lip gloss and nail
polish. “You mean your babysitting money? Come on, put your shoe on and let’s
go.”

Jess shook a pebble from her sandal and slipped it back on. “No.
The money Mom is going to give me when I graduate from high school.” She
skipped along on the drive next to Claire. “You know. The money you found in
Joe’s office last April.”

Claire’s step faltered for a moment. Oh, that money. This
was news to Claire. The last she’d heard, Ruby hadn’t decided what to do with
the cash.

Something smelled kind of anchovy-ish here. “When did your
mom tell you the money was for you?”

“A while ago.” The girl’s gaze darted up, down, and all
around—everywhere but in Claire’s direction.

Getting the truth out of Jess sometimes took a little arm
twisting. “Jess, come clean, or I’ll tell Gramps you were the one who dipped
Henry’s paws in blue paint.”

“Paintings by Henry” had been Jess’s big scheme back in June
for making some quick cash. Unfortunately, Henry had confused the poster board
for newspaper, leaving Jess with a dinner-plate sized pee puddle and several
blue paw prints running off the edge of the thick paper and across the floor.
Jess spent an hour spot cleaning the carpet so when Gramps and Ruby returned
from Tucson they were none the wiser—except for the mysterious blue paint around
Henry’s toenails.

“Darned dog.” Jess walked in silence for several seconds, no
more skips in her step.

“Mom didn’t exactly tell me,” she clarified, kicking at a
rock. “I overheard her and Harley talking about the money. He wants Mom to put
it in some bank in Tucson until I go to college.”

“Well, there’s a good possibility that whoever broke into
your house was looking for money.” Claire flip-flopped faster as the General
Store came into view, along with the sight of Mac’s truck idling out front. “But
I’d be surprised if the money from Joe’s office was the lure. I’m sure it was
just a random hit from some meth-heads looking for quick cash.” She stole Mac’s
earlier theory.

Okay, so she was a liar-liar-pants-on-fire, but she didn’t
want Jess freaking out about the burglar coming back for the cash, especially
with Ruby taking off on her honeymoon soon.

As they neared Mac’s truck, Claire noticed the cab was
empty. He’d waited for her. The knots in her stomach unraveled.

“Are you sure?” Jess asked as they skirted Mac’s pickup. “That’s
a lot of money. When I move to Cleve—”

“Very few people know that money exists.” Claire didn’t want
to be an ear on Jess’s party-line when it came to daydreams about blowing the
cash. That was between Jess and her maker—as in her mother.

“And it should stay that way, Jess, if you get my meaning.”
Claire glanced at Jess, who was busy folding a piece of gum into her mouth. “You
do get my meaning, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. What do you think I am? An idiot?” Jess took
the porch steps two at a time.

No, just a babbling teenager. Pushing her sunglasses up on
her head, Claire followed her onto the porch.

The screen door opened as Jess reached for the handle. “Your
mom wants to talk to you,” Mac told his cousin and held the door for her.

“Now what?” Jess slipped past him into the store.

Sporting a golden tan, a fresh shave, jeans, and a T-shirt,
Mac made her pheromones fly. Claire dropped her sunglasses back down, hiding
her makeup-free, shadow-rimmed, bloodshot eyes.

Mac pulled the main door closed behind Jess and let the
screen door bang shut.

“Morning, Slugger.” He kissed Claire on the lips, his breath
minty-fresh.

Claire wished she’d taken the time to brush the fuzz from
her teeth. The kiss ended before she had time to settle in and enjoy it.

“Where are you going?” She trailed down the porch steps
after him.

He shoved his backpack behind the bench seat and stuffed a
jug full of water next to it.

“Up to the Lucky Monk,” he said and climbed into his truck,
pulling the door closed.

So, he wasn’t leaving her here alone with her mother. Relief
loosened her shoulders. Claire leaned into the open window. Rolled maps, a
hardhat with a light on it, and a collection of flashlights filled the
passenger seat.

“Why?” she asked.

“Ruby received another letter from the attorney.” Mac
adjusted one of the vents so that a cool blast of air whooshed over Claire’s
arms. “Somebody is officially disputing her claim. She has to go to court at
the end of this month.”

“Shit!” Claire ran her fingers through her hair. As if Ruby
didn’t have enough on her plate with planning the wedding, Jess bucking orders,
and Deborah just being in the same state. “What do you think you’ll find in the
Lucky Monk?”

“Copper. Maybe some amethyst. Maybe nothing.”

“Then why waste your time in there?”

“I need to assess the value of it. I didn’t check out the
Lucky Monk last April. I was too busy messing around in the other mines.”

She didn’t like Mac going up there alone. Cave-ins occurred
too often in old mines, especially with the mining company dynamiting out
chunks of earth from nearby Roadrunner pit every day.

“Let me go with you.”

Mac shook his head. “Ruby needs your help.”

“Then wait until I’m free this afternoon.”

“I can’t. Harley will be back any minute now, and Ruby wants
me gone before he gets here and figures out what I’m up to. She doesn’t want
him to know anything about this.”

“She’s going to have to tell him sometime. How is she going
to hide going to court?”

“That’s her problem, not mine.” He shifted into gear.

“Mac.” Claire grabbed his forearm. After a night of beating
herself up for betraying his trust, she wanted a chance to explain. “I need to
talk to you.”

“Save it for tonight,” he said.

“What’s tonight?”

“You and me in a queen-sized bed.”

The heat in his stare had her fanning her faded yellow Daffy
Duck T-shirt. “Oh.”

“You can make it up to me then. Bring your tool belt.”

Her pulse danced as she remembered the last time she’d
joined him in bed in nothing but her tool belt.

“I’ll be waiting.” She stepped back. “But I’m coming to look
for you if you’re not back by sunset.”

“Deal.” He hit the gas, rolling away from her.

Claire watched Mac cross the bridge and speed down the road,
her palms clammy at the thought of him alone in the mine. Shaking off all
thoughts of doom and gloom, she climbed the porch steps and focused on cracking
that damned safe.

The cool air inside the store slid across her skin, soaking
up the heat. Ruby stood behind the counter, her arms crossed, a grin on her
face.

Manny leaned against the opposite side of the counter,
pointing down at the campground map taped there. A six pack of V-8 juice
sweated onto the wood in front of him. “I’m just saying that if you cut down
these trees here, it would make these sites in the middle more accessible.”

“And the drive leading right up to the sites isn’t good
enough?”

“What’s going on?” Claire asked, leaning next to Manny.

“Manny wants me to remove some mesquite and paloverde trees
so he can spy on my other campers.”

“Ah, mi amor.” Manny’s voice took on that velvety Latino
lilt meant to woo women out of their underwear. “You wound me with your words.
I was just trying to help boost your business.”

Ruby bent over the counter, resting her elbows on the
scarred wood surface, her smile playful. “Sure you were, honey. And I bet it’s
a pure coincidence that a cute little blonde in a Fleetwood just rented site
B15—which sits on the other side of these very trees.” Ruby tapped the trees
drawn on the map.