Lunatic Revenge (23 page)

“They think he’s getting better.”

“Good, good. Listen, I planned on removing the rest of these fallen limbs today, but the chainsaw is pretty noisy. Were you resting?”

“I just woke up from a nap, so your timing is great,’ Tara said. “Go right ahead.”

He smiled and waved and then started the chainsaw.

Tara grimaced at the roar and went back inside. Even with the door closed she could still hear the noise, so she just turned up the volume on the TV and settled in to watch a movie.

A short while later, she happened to glance up at the clock and realized her uncle would be coming home soon. He’d promised to take her out to supper tonight and she wasn’t even dressed.

She went to her room and began sorting through clothes, trying to figure out what she wanted to wear. Her body was still too sore for anything that wasn’t soft and comfy. After deciding on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweatshirt, she changed, then went to the bathroom to put on makeup and fix her hair.

The bathroom had no window and the overhead light wasn’t as bright as the rest of the house, but it still highlighted the dark bruises on Tara’s neck and face. A couple of them were beginning to turn a slight shade of purple and green, which meant they were healing, but it did nothing for her self-esteem. Between her reputation and her appearance, she was a walking advertisement for disaster. She sure hoped Uncle Pat knew what he was doing by taking her out tonight. It could turn into an embarrassing mess.

Mr. Whiteside was still there loading up limbs when Uncle Pat came home. Tara saw him drive in, then stop to talk to their landlord before coming inside. The closer the time came to go visit Flynn, the more anxious she’d become. She’d already laid out clean clothes for Pat. All he had to do was shower and change and they’d be off.

A couple of minutes later, he came inside.

“Hey, honey. You look all pretty and rested. Was the day too boring being here alone?”

Tara grinned. Between the news crew, the bird attack, the detectives checking out a complaint, her run-in with Dracula, and Mr. Whiteside’s chainsaw, it had been anything but boring.

“It was fine. I laid out your clean clothes. All you need to do is clean up and we’re good to go.”

Pat kissed her cheek as he sailed past. “You are a sweetheart. I won’t be long.”

He paused halfway down the hall and yelled back. “Hey, did you decide where you wanted to go eat?”

“Except for the Hideaway Pizza, I don’t know which places have opened back up since the tornado.”

“Oh, well, then I’ll think on it while I’m showering and then you can pick from the ones I know about, okay?”

She nodded, but the truth was she didn’t much care. Food still wasn’t the priority it had been. It hadn’t occurred to her that she was associating the thought of food with what had happened to her and Flynn, because they’d been on their way to Texas Roadhouse to eat when the wreck occurred.

As she sat down to wait for Pat to clean up, she saw yet another car stop down at the curb in front of the house.

“Not again,” she muttered.

It’s not what you think.

Sure enough, Millicent was right. The last person Tara would have expected to see walking up to the house was her nemesis, Prissy. Only Prissy wasn’t alone. She was holding a little boy’s hand, and he was crying.

“Oh no.”

It’s still not what you think. Stop expecting the worst and face it.

It wasn’t often that Millicent called her down, so when she did, Tara knew enough to pay attention. As soon as they knocked, she reluctantly opened the door.

“Prissy
 . . .
this is a surprise.”

Prissy looked as uncomfortable as Tara felt. “I know. Hey, I saw you on TV. What you did after the tornado was amazing, and I’ll tell you that we may not be friends, but I will never dis you again. I also want to tell you I’m so sorry about what happened to you and Flynn. I’ve been saying prayers that he gets well soon.”

Tara blinked. This was the last thing she would have expected to come out of Prissy’s mouth.

“This is good to know,” Tara said, and then glanced down at the little boy. “Who’s your friend?”

“My little brother, Raymond. He’s seven, and he has a problem that I hope you can fix.”

“Ah,” Tara said. At least now the visit made sense. “Hi, Raymond. It’s nice to meet you.” She pointed at the object in the little boy’s hand. “What do you have there?”

Raymond’s eyes welled. “It’s Wilson’s leash.” Then he hid his face against Prissy’s leg and began to sob.

Prissy gave Tara a pleading look. “Wilson is Raymond’s beagle. The meter reader left the gate to the back yard open today and he got out. We’ve been looking all afternoon and can’t find him. Mom and Dad are still at work, and they’re going to blame me for letting it happen. Like it’s my fault the meter reader was a jerk. I know you don’t owe me a thing, and I wouldn’t ask it for myself, but I’d do pretty much anything for Raymond, even bug you when I know you pretty much hate my guts.”

It was the honesty that sold Tara—that and the little guy’s sobs.

“Can I hold the leash for a minute?” Tara asked.

Prissy handed it over, and the moment the leather touched Tara’s palm, she saw the dog. The good part was that he wasn’t already road kill, but he was curled up against a fence licking his leg, which made her think he could be hurt. She closed her eyes so she could concentrate on the surroundings through which it was moving.

“Can you see anything?” Prissy asked.

Tara’s eyebrows knitted as she focused on the scene inside her mind.

“He’s sitting against a fence licking his leg. He might have gotten hurt, which is why he didn’t come home.”

Prissy patted her little brother’s back. “Don’t cry, Raymond. Tara is helping us find Wilson, okay?”

He wiped the snot on his upper lip on the back of his sleeve. “Where is he?” Raymond asked.

Tara kept watching the scene unfold. In her head, it was like zooming out from the dog, to the sidewalk, then the houses, then to a street sign. When she saw a very familiar business, her eyes popped open. She had the location.

“He’s in the alley next to Eskimo Joe’s. The aroma of food probably led him there. I don’t know what’s wrong with his leg, but I have the feeling that he can’t walk on it.”

Tara handed the leash back to Prissy, who was slack-jawed and staring in disbelief.

“How do you do that?” she whispered.

Tara shrugged. “I don’t know. I was born this way.” Then she knelt down. “You and your big sister will have Wilson home before you know it, okay?”

All of a sudden Raymond threw his arms around her neck. “Thank you for using your magic,” he whispered.

Now Tara was the one with tears in her eyes. “You’re welcome, Raymond. See you around, okay?”

Tara walked them to the door. “You should probably hurry. I didn’t see anything bad happening, but to be on the safe side, the sooner he’s in your car, the better.”

Prissy paused. “Thanks, Tara. You are one serious lunatic, but I will defend your right to be whatever you need to be.” Then she held out her hand. “Truce?”

“Truce,” Tara said.

They shook on it.

She watched as the brother and sister headed back down the driveway at a fast pace. Raymond was talking non-stop as they drove away.

“Who was that?” Pat said, as he walked into the living room.

“Just a friend from school,” Tara said. “So what are my choices?”

Pat grinned. “Besides Hideaway Pizza, Red Lobster is open. Mexico Joe’s is open. Sonic Drive-In is open, and the Braum’s Ice cream just off Western is open.”

“Braum’s. I want a chocolate malt and you like their bacon burgers. Is that okay with you?”

Pat gave her a quick, easy hug. “Honey, anything you want is okay with me. So, let’s head that way, okay? I called Mona and told her I’d bring her something for supper when we came to visit. This will be perfect.”

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You’re the girl who helped search and rescue after the tornado, aren’t you?”

Here it comes, she thought, and nodded.

“My brother died that day.”

Tara gave him a closer look. “You’re Tom Lewis’s brother, aren’t you?”

His hands started to shake. “How did you know?”

“You look alike.”

“Did you know him from before?”

“No sir. I only saw him that day after the storm.”

“But he died in the storm. You couldn’t have—”

Tara watched the reality of what she’d said appear on his face and she wanted him to understand that his brother was okay.

“He’s the one who showed me where he was. He didn’t want to cross over until his body had been found. I told him I would wait until the rescue people came, and that I would make sure they knew where to find his body. After that, he walked into the light.”

The man’s hands started to shake. “Lord have mercy. What a treasure you are, child. What a treasure.”

He shook his head as he got up from the table, dumped the rest of his food in the trash, and then walked over to where Pat was standing in line.

Tara saw them talking, and then they shook hands. The man looked back at Tara one more time, and then walked out of the store. A couple of minutes later, Pat came to the booth and sat down.

“That man just bought our supper. He said to tell you, thank you for what you did for his brother.”

Tara leaned back, then looked out the window, watching the man as he got in his car and drove away. It looked like he was crying.

“Maybe I was wrong, Uncle Pat.”

“About what, honey?”

“People being weird about me. Maybe they don’t all think that way, after all.”

He grinned. “See. I told you it would be okay.”

A woman behind the counter called out. “Pickup, order 223.”

Pat glanced at his ticket. “That’s us. Hang on, honey. I’ll be right back.”

Tara felt like she was standing outside of herself as she watched her uncle going back to the counter to pick up their food.