Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (46 page)

“Dad always used the word ‘treasure’ when referring to the
safe deposit box contents. But Joe’s notes in the book didn’t make any sense to
me.”

Welcome to her world.

“Turns out it didn’t matter in the end.” He pulled back the
hammer, aiming squarely at Mac’s head. “Now, where’s the gold?”

“Well …” Panic paralyzed her brain.

“I’m going to count to three, Claire. That’s it.”

Oh, fuck!

“Claire, don’t.” Mac’s eyes drilled hers.

“One.”

“Don’t what?” she asked, her whole body trembling. She had
to do something, think of something.

“Don’t do it.”

“Two.”

“Mac, I’m sorry about the whole mess with my mom.”

“Damn it, Claire!” Mac shifted forward, as if to stand.

“Three.”

“No!” Claire yelled, holding out her hand to stop Porter. “I’ll
show you where I hid the treasure … I mean gold.”

She needed to get Porter away from Mac.

Porter raised his brows. “Why not just tell me where and
save yourself the trouble?”

“Because I’ve stashed it in a spot that’s not easy to
explain where.” It was a bell-ringer of a lie, but she kept a straight face and
managed not to pee her pants. “Besides, you’ll just kill us like you did
Richard if I tell you now.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” He directed her toward the exit
with the revolver. “You lead the way.”

Fear glued her feet to the floor. “You’re not going to shoot
Mac when I turn around, are you?”

Porter chuckled. “I don’t need to shoot either one of you,
unless you force me to. I just want what’s mine, and then I’ll disappear and be
gone for good.”

Her shoulders clenched, Claire walked stiff-legged toward
the narrow tunnel. She glanced at Mac once more; worry lined his face as he
tugged at the ropes around his ankles.

“Come after us, and I’ll shoot her,” Porter told Mac, and
then nudged her along the narrow corridor, the gun pressing against her spine.

She wondered if he’d allow her a cigarette along with a blindfold
before standing her up against the wall and firing.

By the time they reached the skeleton, her back felt
bruised. She climbed through the hole at the cave-in first, his threat to turn
back and kill Mac if she tried anything funny kept her hands at her side as he
wiggled through after her.

“Hold it,” he said as she started toward the main adit. A
gunshot rang out, followed by a deep rumbling.

Her ears clanging again, Claire watched as the ceiling
rained down over the pile. Dust coated them, choking her and burning her eyes.
When the roar stopped and it had cleared enough for her to see the pile, the
hole was gone, filled with rubble, leaving Mac on the other side—trapped.

“On we go.” Porter dug the gun into her back again.

Sweat coated Claire’s skin as he prodded her out of the
mine.

What was she going to do? She couldn’t take him back to Ruby’s
place. That would endanger everyone back there.

Somewhere, between the Lucky Monk and Jackrabbit Junction,
she needed to find herself a treasure.

* * *

Kate shielded her eyes from the sun. The rain seemed to have
washed the air, leaving it crystal clear. Across the valley to the east, she
could practically count the sage brush and little trees dotting the hillside.

“I thought you said hitchhiking was dangerous.” Jess sat in
the driver’s seat of the pickup, leaning out the window, watching Kate, who was
trying to flag down someone without ending up as road kill.

“It is. That’s why I’m doing the thumbing and not you.”

A pair of headlights from the direction of Jackrabbit
Junction crested the small hill about a half-mile away.

“Boy, Kate, we really caught air when we left the road, didn’t
we?”

Jess had recovered from their short flight over the shallow
ditch and touch down onto the desert’s soft dirt, but now she seemed determined
to turn it into a big-fish story. The distance they cleared kept growing longer
and longer.

Kate was just grateful that she’d been able to get the old
Ford to limp back to the road’s edge, blown tire and all. But her luck had
screeched to a halt when she crawled under the truck bed, freed the spare tire,
and found it flat as a crepe.

Inching onto the road, Kate held out her thumb and stared at
the approaching vehicle, the growl of its engine now audible.

“You look pretty scary with that blood on your forehead.”
Jess sure had a way with compliments. “I bet you’re going to need stitches. You
should have been wearing your seatbelt.”

“I told you, it’s broken.” Kate spoke through gritted teeth.
Her forehead still throbbed from the impact with the steering wheel upon
landing.

“Oh, yeah. I guess Mom better get that fixed. Hey, maybe you
should lift your shirt and flash this car when it’s close enough for them to
see you.”

“Thanks for the advice, Dear Abby, but I think I’ll try my
method for a little longer.” Squinting as the vehicle came closer, its daylight
running lights shining in her eyes, Kate leaned out as far as she could without
falling.

The whine of the engine lowered, the vehicle seeming to slow
as it neared. She pasted a smile on her lips, hopeful the bloody gash on her
forehead didn’t make her look like a cast member of
The Hills Have Eyes
.

The vehicle pulled to the side and braked to a stop. The
flashers came on.

Behind the headlights, Kate made out the shape of two people
in a pickup cab. She held her breath as the driver’s side door opened and a
pair of long, jean-clad legs ending in a pair of cowboy boots touched the
ground.

“You’re bleeding,” her Good Samaritan said as he walked
around the front bumper of his truck.

At the sound of Butch’s voice, Kate closed her eyes and
groaned. How much humiliation would she have to choke down today?

“Hi, Butch!” Jess shouted. The squeak of the old Ford’s door
meant the teenager would be joining them shortly.

“What happened to your forehead?” The warm touch of Butch’s
hands on each side of Kate’s head surprised her into opening her lids.

He frowned down at her, his fingers gentle as he inspected
her gash. The smell of fabric softener and his musky cologne made her hungry
for more than his feathery touches.

Jess bounced up next to them. “We wrecked again, but this
time Kate didn’t hit anyone.”

Kate’s face burned with all twenty-four shades of Crayola’s
red at once. If she’d had any spare clothing, she’d have crammed it in Jess’s
mouth.

“Jess,” Butch said while looking at Kate. “Will you do me a
favor and grab the first aid kit out of my glove box.”

“That’s not necessary.” Kate pulled his hands away from her
face. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut.”

But Jess was already rounding the passenger side of his
truck.

“Maybe so, but Jess needs to keep busy.” He stared at Ruby’s
Ford. “You’re having a bad day. What happened?”

He didn’t know the half of it. Kate rubbed her eyes. “A tire
blew.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t roll it.” Butch walked past the
driver’s side door and around the front of the old Ford, pausing to free a
thatch of brownish-purple tufted grass pinched between the bumper and the
grill. “I take it you head-butted the steering wheel when you landed.”

Nodding, Kate followed him. “Luckily, Jess made it through
without a scratch.”

The spare tire leaned against the shredded remains of the
blown-out front tire. Butch kicked the spare. “Flat—nice. My spare might fit.”

“No!”

That came out sharper than she’d intended, but the last
thing she wanted was to be indebted to the man who’d freed her from jail this
morning and then rejected her this afternoon.

Butch raised his brows.

“If you’ll just give us a ride to Yuccaville, I can take
care of things from there.”

Jess jogged up as Butch asked, “What’s in Yuccaville?”

“The bus station,” Jess answered, smiling as she held out
the first aid box toward him. “There’s a lady in your pickup.”

Knowing exactly who that lady was, Kate’s chest ached.

“Is somebody going somewhere on a bus?” He looked at Kate
for an answer.

Kate shrugged. What did he care if she flew to the moon
tonight? He had Lana to keep his sheets warm. “Maybe.”

“I’m going to live with my dad in Ohio.” Jess ruined Kate’s
ploy. “Have you ever been to Cleveland?”

He turned to Jess. “Nope. Is your mom back from her
honeymoon now?”

Jess lowered her gaze. “Um, no.”

Butch shot Kate a suspicion-filled glance.

Shrugging again, Kate kept silent. She had to be careful
what she said in front of Jess or risk alienating the kid completely.

“Will you do me another favor, Jess?” Butch asked.

“Sure.”

“Go ask Lana to help you find the tire patch kit stuffed
behind my seat.”

Jess set off toward his truck with a skip.

“What’s going on?” Butch popped open the first aid kit.

“I found her walking along the road. She’s determined to
leave for Ohio before Ruby returns. The only way she’d crawl in the truck was
if I promised to take her to Yuccaville. I was working on a plan to delay her
when the tire blew.”

He pulled a small pouch from the box and tore it open. “Does
she really want to live in Ohio, or is this some kind of game she’s playing
with her mom?”

“Ow!” Kate jerked back as he touched the square swab of
cotton to her head, her gash stinging. The scent of alcohol drifted between
them. “I don’t know. Jess usually spills her guts to Claire, not me.”

“Where is Claire?”

“With Mac.” With Mac’s truck, was more likely. “Somehow, I
have to convince Jess to stick around, at least until Claire has a chance to
talk to her.”

“Maybe I can help.” He touched the pad to her head again.

Kate held still as he finished cleaning the wound. “I doubt
your girlfriend would appreciate you missing dinner to hang out with us any
longer than necessary.”

“Stop grimacing. You’re making it bleed again.”

“Sorry.” Kate smoothed out her forehead as he dabbed some
clear goop on her skin, determined to be a good little patient so he’d hurry up
and finish playing doctor. Holding up the flimsy wall she’d erected between
them while standing this close made her palms clammy.

“Lana isn’t my girlfriend, Kate.”

“She’s not?” She stared at his Adam’s apple, wondering what
that meant.

“Nope. She’s my brother’s wife. She’s here to help me with
some of the takeover paperwork.”

Her face warmed in all of the usual places.

Once again, she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and landed
head-first in a puddle of mortification. If only she could crawl away and lick
her wounds.

Butch grabbed a bandage from the kit. “Somehow you seem to
have acquired this image of me as some kind of cheesy Don Juan, screwing anyone
with shaved legs and painted toenails.”

She opened her mouth to disagree, then closed it. He was
right. Jealousy had a psychedelic way of distorting her sanity.

He tore the bandage free from the wrapper. “To be honest, I
haven’t had sex with anyone for quite a while.”

She gulped at his admission. How long was a
while?

“And for the record …” He lifted her chin so his blue eyes
could lock onto hers. “I really wanted to have sex with you.”

“Oh.” His admission made her hot and sweaty in all the right
places.

“I still do, even though you seem to have such a shitty
opinion of my character.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me from leaving back there in your
office?”

“You’re trouble, Kate. Sex with you would only make matters
worse.”

“Gee, thanks.” She felt like the cover girl for Pariah
Monthly.

“Think about it. You’re only here on a temporary basis, and
I’m building a life in Jackrabbit Junction. You wear designer clothes and I
prefer holey T-shirts. You teach kids for a living, and I provide alcohol to
the masses. We’re sailing toward different horizons. Not to mention that you
tend to think the worst of me at every turn.”

“That’s not true.”

His smile was crooked. “Prove me wrong.”

“I think you’re an excellent driver.”

“Even though I don’t use my blinker when backing up?”

“Touché.”

He laid the bandage against her forehead, smoothing it out
and then trailing his fingers down the sides of her face. “You and I are just
not meant to be.”

Several more pieces splintered off Kate’s duct-taped heart.

“Besides, your mother scares me a little.”

A chuckle escaped through her frown. “Medusa often has that
effect on people.”

Kate stepped back at the sound of Jess’s tennis shoes
crunching toward them on the gravel shoulder.

“Here you go, Butch. Lana says you better hurry or you’re
going to lose your reservation.”

“Thanks, Jess.” Taking the aerosol can of Fix-A-Flat from
Jess, he squatted next to the spare tire.

Kate backed away as Jess dropped cross-legged onto the
ground next to Butch and started giving him second-by-second details of their
latest crash.

She needed some distance from Butch as he worked on the flat
spare. Some time to repair the new cuts and scrapes he’d delivered to her
already bruised and battered sensibilities.

She lollygagged along the shoulder, pausing here and there
to watch the ants rebuild after the flood, monitor the slow progress of a
tarantula ambling across the sand, and breathe in the stinky bouquet of some
pinkish-purple flowers.

Jess’s voice droned behind her, Butch’s occasional deep tone
interjecting as Kate tried to figure out where to go from here. The crossroads
she’d reached had no signs pointing out towns or mileage. She felt empty with
nowhere to go.

“Kate!” Jess ran up beside her. “Kate, guess what?” The
teenager bounced like she was trying out for Tigger.