Land of Entrapment (12 page)

“Did she stop on her own or did Cody tell her to?”

Sage thought about that. “Both, probably. They were having some kind of argument last fall. He was really yelling at her about Melissa—called her ‘that fucking dyke sister’ of hers.” Sage’s eyes registered anger. “I was gonna go over there and kick his ass, talking about Melissa like that. Then he said something else and she said something like ‘but Sage’s my friend,’ and he started yelling about dykes corrupting white women or some asinine shit like that. Please.” She made a disgusted noise before continuing. “I think all women could use a little lezzie corruption, thank you very much.” She grinned wickedly. My heart fluttered. So Sage was, at the very least, bi. Or maybe she just didn’t care about labels.

Still, she was with Jeff. Maybe she was just letting me know that she was okay with the whole “gay thing.”

Why the hell did I care, anyway?

“So how long have you lived here?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation.

“Two years. Same as Megan.” Sage looked sad, then. “I thought we had gotten to be pretty good friends. She told me about her addiction problems and I told her if she needed to talk, just let me know.

But she seemed okay. She hadn’t used the whole time she’s been here, as far as I can tell, and she didn’t seem to have a problem around other people if they were drinking. And then Cody showed up and she started getting weird.”

“Jeff said about a week ago you saw a couple of Cody’s friends hanging around.”

She grimaced, distaste clear on her features. “Roy and...what’s the other guy? Timmy or something juvenile like that. Total losers.”

“What do they look like?”

“Roy’s about thirty. A little too old to be playing white man rising, if you ask me. He’s blond and he has blue eyes. He’s probably all proud that he looks like some little Aryan youth. He’s about six feet tall.

The other guy is about your height. He has dark hair and dark eyes. Oh, and a really nice beer gut. A fine example of manhood.” She snorted then and grinned.

I had to smile back. Her demeanor was infectious.

“What were they doing here? Has Cody been coming around?”

“Nuh-uh. Not that I’ve seen. I told them to get the hell out of here or I’d call the cops.”

“Really? You said that?”

“Hell, yes. Assholes. Timmy or whatever his name is smokes and he was throwing his damn butts into the yard.”

“What’d they do?”

“What they usually do. Called me a bitch and left.”

“So you’ve had dealings with them before?” The thought of someone calling Sage a bitch rankled me, though she could clearly take care of herself.

“Well, duh,” she said, laughing. “I told Cody to fuck off, too. I told him to leave Megan alone, that she was too good for him.”

“When?” Holy shit.

“About the time Megan left.”

“What’d he do?” I found myself admiring her and worrying about her at the same time.

“He thought he was all menacing and shit, getting into my face. I know his type. My dad was like that and when he tried shit with me, I told him the same thing. My dad backed down and so did Cody.” She shrugged. “He told me if I wasn’t a woman, he’d knock my teeth out and I told him to fucking try it. I’d kick his ass into next year.” She giggled, but I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. “Bastard. He tried to stare me down but he blinked first.” She stopped then, thinking. “Megan left the next day.” She looked at me, intense. “Megan’s not really taking classes, is she.”

It wasn’t a question. I debated how much to tell Sage and decided she wasn’t the type to accept BS

from anyone. I shook my head.

“She’s with him.” Sage said it quietly and her fingers tightened around her beer bottle.

“Yeah. Melissa asked me to help find her.”

“Fuck,” Sage said softly. “Megan told me after I first met her that you research racist assholes.”

“She talked about me?”

“A lot. She said after you and Melissa broke up, she almost started using again.”

Oh, that hurt.

Sage must’ve seen the expression on my face. “Oh, no. She understood why you left and she told me she didn’t blame you. Don’t feel guilty.” She squeezed my right forearm with her left hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“It’s okay. I’m just a little...” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Surprised, I guess. I didn’t realize that Megan—”

“She missed you really bad. And she was really pissed at Melissa for months. They had some knock-down arguments about it, too.”

I tapped my half-full beer bottle against my thigh.

“Look, Sage, I appreciate all this info, but there’s some stuff that I really don’t need to hear.”

She looked at me, a trace of embarrassment and concern in her eyes. “Sorry. That was really shitty of me. Sometimes I just talk and—”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it.” I changed the subject quickly to minimize her discomfort. “So Jeff mentioned that he saw someone poking around back there, too.”

Sage’s brow furrowed in thought. “Yeah. I remember. It was about eleven and I heard him yell something out the back. He wasn’t sure who it was. I think it was probably one of Cody’s asshead friends.”

I debated whether to tell her what had happened the night before. I decided I’d better for safety’s sake, if nothing else. “Someone was messing with the place last night, too.”

Her eyes narrowed. “When?”

“I was in my car trying to find him at two thirty-four AM, according to my car clock.”

She stared at me. “What the hell?”

“I think he had a key and he was trying to get it to work in the door. I don’t think he knew I was inside.”

“Holy shit. What’d you do?”

“I scared him off and then tried to find him.”

Sage’s eyebrows lifted.

“It’s okay. My friend Chris came by this morning to take fingerprints. She’s a cop.”

She relaxed. “That’s a relief. Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Nice offer. I felt a little thrill. “Thanks, but no. I had the locks changed. And Chris is staying over tonight. I’ll be okay.”

Her eyes searched mine. The effect was wholly unnerving. “Any time you need anything while you’re here, come by. I don’t care what time it is.”

I smiled, unable to look away. “I will. Thanks. So what else about those two guys—”

“Later. Let’s eat.” She grinned, grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward the back porch where we joined Jeff at the grill. She fixed a burger for me, asking what I wanted on it. I watched her, bemused. She was a force of nature, this Sage. And a font of data.

Hopefully I’d get a chance to pick her brain a bit more. She went back into the kitchen and loaded my plate with pasta salad and some sliced vegetables.

Red peppers, carrots, and celery. “Do you want green chile on your burger?”

“Please.”

She handed me the plate and placed a plastic fork on it. I grabbed a paper napkin from the stack on the counter. “Make yourself at home.” She went back outside. I wandered into the living room where six people were already sitting around on a variety of chairs eating. Bowls of chips and other snacks sat on the table, which stood just to the right of the kitchen doorway as I entered the living room. I found a spot on the couch and took a bite of the burger. The tangy, earthy taste of fresh roasted green chile exploded in my mouth. I savored it, then introduced myself after which those of us in the living room chatted amicably about local politics, and what everybody was doing that summer, among other small talk. Sage reappeared and plopped down onto the couch next to me. Her thigh bumped mine and I wondered at the spark I felt shoot up my leg. She had two fresh beers and she handed me one.

“Thanks.” I took the bottle and clinked it against hers, trying not to think about the fact that she hadn’t moved her thigh away from mine. She smiled enigmatically and ate her burger in silence. I finished and was about to stand up but she beat me to it.

“I’ll take it. Just hang out.”

I handed her my plate and watched as she bounced into the kitchen. She had a nice ass. Probably as toned and muscular as the rest of her. God, I’m like a dirty old man. And how fucked up would that be to seduce a friend of Megan’s? And somebody else’s girlfriend? The thoughts so disturbed me that I shuddered but I couldn’t shake the entirely pleasurable chills bubbling around in my stomach. I checked my watch.

Almost eight-thirty. Chris had called earlier and said she’d be in around ten. So I had another hour or so to hang out with Sage. I liked that thought.

Jeff came in and cranked the music louder. The living room’s comfortably worn hardwood floor looked like it lent itself to lots of dancing. Mike rolled up the rug and moved the various furnishings out of the way and sure enough, some people availed themselves of the space to do just that. I eased into the kitchen where Sage was busy cleaning up.

I helped her, ignoring her protests. “Whatever,” I said. “You feed me, I help clean up. That’s the deal.”

She laughed. “Fine.” She patiently directed me around the kitchen to various plastic and glass containers for leftovers. She made up two separate plates and covered them with plastic wrap. “Is Megan’s place open?” She asked.

I looked at her, puzzled. “Yeah.”

“Be right back.” She left quickly, carrying the plates.

“Hey, Sage, you don’t have to—”

“I’m not listening,” she called back in a sing-song voice as she balanced both plates on one arm and headed down the porch steps toward Megan’s front door. She reappeared a few moments later and crossed the yard to join me on the back porch of the big house. “No reason for food to go to waste.

Besides, I know how you bachelors are.”

“Oh, really?” I cocked an eyebrow, wondering how she knew I was single.

“Nobody eats shitty food when I’m around.”

I laughed. Sage was like nobody I had ever met.

My mom would call her a “free spirit.”

We went back inside and Sage soon engaged in animated conversation with Rob and a woman who had introduced herself as Jenny, bringing me into the dialogue. I didn’t know how long we chatted, but after a while, Sage excused herself to go to the kitchen and a heterosexual couple that was about my age left.

I heard Jeff out on the front porch talking to three other people. Most people had already left and cigar smoke wafted into the house through the open front door. The music blared in an empty room. Time to go, I thought reluctantly. Maybe I’d be able to talk more to Sage later. I turned back toward the kitchen just as the music switched to a popular salsa number.

Sage appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “Oh, my God. I love this song. Can you salsa dance?” She looked at me pleadingly. “Jeff denies his heritage and refuses to do any kind of Latin American dancing.

Please tell me you can dance.”

I gauged the situation. Chris had taught me and said I was pretty good for a gringa. Well, what could it hurt? It wasn’t like Sage was dissing Jeff. He was right outside and it was possible to see us through the front window. “Sure. I’ll dance.”

She bounded across the floor. “And I’ll bet you lead, right?” she asked mischievously as she held her hands out in the correct position for this particular tune.

I smiled and placed my right hand carefully against the small of her back and took her right in my left. She placed her left hand on my right shoulder.

“Ready?” I bobbed my head in time and began moving. It had been a while since I had done this, but like riding a bike, once you know, it sticks. This particular beat called for a modified box step that was easy to follow. Step, step, slide...

A good leader instills confidence in a partner and someone who follows well can pick up on the rhythms of the leader. Sage clearly knew what she was doing.

She followed me easily and gracefully, teeth flashing as she grinned. Her eyes were half-closed. Step, step, slide. Turn. Arm extension. Bring her back... She eased closer to me so that her pelvis was nearly touching mine. My palm at the small of her back felt like it was burning. Oh, God, I thought. This might not have been a good idea.

“You’ve got that hip thing down,” she said appreciatively, watching my waist. I was glad the lighting was dim beneath the low ceilings. She couldn’t see me blush.

“Practice, practice, practice,” I said with a mock long-suffering undertone. “You know how gringos are—takes them a bit longer.” I caught her eye.

“Whatever,” she laughed as I guided her over the floor. “You were born with it.”

I led her into another turn and arm extension as the music ended. With a quick flick, I pulled her back, snapping her into my arms, like old-fashioned tango dancers. Too late, I realized it might have been a mistake. I was all too aware of her breasts against mine and the heat I felt rolling over me in waves didn’t have much to do with exertion, though we were both breathing heavily. Dancing’s a workout.

Among other things.

“Damn,” she breathed, staring into my eyes a little too long. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Thanks for dinner.” I managed to break the moment and poked my head out the front door. “Hey, Jeff. Thanks for the invite. I’m heading home. It’s a long way, you know.”

Laughter. “No problem. Catch you later.” He waved at me from the darkened porch.

I made my way to the back porch, smiling and nodding at the people I had met. Sage had apparently gone to the bathroom or something because I didn’t see her. I decided I needed to get back to Megan’s before I started to enjoy being around her a little too much. A few of the people who remained made nice comments about my dancing. I murmured my thanks and finally made it to the back porch. I was almost to Megan’s front door when I heard Sage from the big house.

“Hey!”

I turned, glad to see her again in spite of myself.

“Thanks again,” I said, waving at her as I stood under Megan’s porch light.

She leaned against one of the pillars that supported the porch roof. “I figured out what K.C.

stands for.”

“Oh?” Given our interaction that evening and my assessment of her personality, I figured she’d tell me.

“Killer Cute,” she announced. “Good night.” And she turned and went back inside.