Mystic Cowboy(74)

“And?” Baltimore. She dug a pencil out of the desk and wrote it down.

“The director of the actual lab is a little troll named Leon Flagg.”

“Mel, be serious.” She wrote it down, and then added troll after it.

“I am serious, Maddie.” She sighed in frustration. “This would be so much easier if you had the Internet out there.”

“I don’t need the Internet. I have you. Why is Leon Flagg a troll?”

“Aside from the name?” Mellie snickered, and for a brief second, Madeline was homesick. She actually missed her little sister, irritation and all. “Well, he is. From his Facebook page, he seems about five feet tall and two hundred pounds, with red hair that looks like he stuck his finger in a socket. I friended him,” she added with another giggle. “Not only has he already accepted my request, but he’s already sent me a slimy message.”

The feeling of homesickness grew, just a little. Madeline had never gotten on Facebook—never had the time—but back in Columbus, finding out that the director of the lab at Open Diagnostics was a troll named Leon took less than fifteen minutes. Out here on the rez, it would have taken her weeks to dig up that kind of information. Madeline looked at Rebel, which was no help. She doubted the man even knew what Facebook was. “Really? What’d he say?”

“Oh, the usual. If I’m ever in the Baltimore area, he’d love to show me a good time, etc. etc. etc. Total slime ball. Which is good.”

On the other hand, out here on the rez, one didn’t just randomly friend slime balls for fun. A little insulation was a good thing, Madeline decided. “How’s that?”

“Maddie, I have no idea what’s going on. But you need this Open Diagnostics to process something for you? Something they’re in no hurry to do?”

Hell, even if Mellie knew what was going on, she still probably wouldn’t have any idea. Madeline barely knew what was going on, and she lived here. “Right.”

“So,” she said, like Maddie was that stick in the mud again, “horny trolls are easy.”

“Mellie...”

“Call him up. Pretend to be me. Promise that if he processes your stuff, you’ll make it worth his while when you come to Baltimore next time. Easy.”

“What?” Promise some troll a good time? She’d rather tell Mellie there wasn’t a man alive who was better than Rebel—in front of him, no less.

“Trust me, it’ll work. You can’t scare him over the phone with that sneer of yours, and bribery works best in person.” Mellie really did sound like she knew what she was talking about.

Especially the part about the bribery. Madeline shuddered. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Okay. Fine. I don’t care what you tell him. Promise him something medical, I don’t know. And I’ll unfriend him as soon as you’re done.”

“No, wait.” So Madeline wasn’t exactly in touch with the modern world these days. But even she knew that was a bad idea. “Wait until I get the results, okay? Then unfriend him or whatever.”

“Good plan.” Hey, score one for Madeline. “I couldn’t get his direct extension, but I got the lab number.”

Madeline wrote the number down and then repeated it back, just to make sure she got it right.

“You’ve got it. And Maddie?” Suddenly, Mellie sounded quite serious. “I hope whatever it is turns out okay.”

“Thanks, Mel. I’ll let you know.” She hung up and stared at the phone.

“So that’s what artistic and unfocused sounds like,” Rebel said, keeping a safe distance on the other side of the waiting room.

“What is your problem?” Madeline glanced at the clock. 7:32. She had time to chew him out and call the lab before Clarence got here—but not much. “Are you trying to piss me off? I’m trying to help you over here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not looking the least bit apologetic. “But you’re cute when you’re mad.”

Maybe Mellie was right. She couldn’t scare anyone over the phone with the Mitchell sneer. But in person was a whole different matter. She fixed him with her hardest glare. “Who are you calling cute?”

He had the nerve to smile at her. She was going to have to work on that sneer some more. She was getting soft out here.

“I really am sorry, Madeline. But you were worried. It’s...” He trailed off, his eyes caressing her face until she felt the kind of warmth they normally reserved for after-dark conversations. “It’s easier when you’re mad at me.”

“Men,” she grumbled. He didn’t mind scaring the hell out of her, but he didn’t want her to worry? She picked up the phone and began dialing. “Horny trolls and mystic cowboys and silent Nobodys. The whole lot of you.”