Ring of Fire II(237)

Noelle couldn't herself from laughing. "She's got brass, I'll say that for her."



The laughter finally broke her sour mood. She gathered up her stuff and rose. "Well, okay. I guess you're right. And what I do know is that you're busy. So I'll get out of your hair. Besides, I'd better see if I can put in a word for Denise before her parents skin her alive."





But when she got to the Beasleys' place, one of those big double-sized trailers called "mobile homes" in blithe disregard for the cinder blocks it was actually sitting on instead of wheels, she discovered her mission was unnecessary. Denise's mother Christin had thrown a fit, sure enough. But Buster had taken it all in stride.



There were some advantages, it seemed, to having a father with an ex-biker's views on parenting.



"What the hell, Noelle, it's like I told my wife." He placed a large, affectionate hand on his daughter's shoulder. "It's not like she got pregnant or strung out on dope or started working for a pimp or even got in trouble with the cops. For that matter, her new tattoo she got yesterday's sorta reasonable."



Noelle eyed the tattoo on Denise's shoulder, easily visible because she was just wearing a tank top inside the warm trailer. That was the tattoo she'd gotten at the age of fourteen. A death's head with the logo Watch it, buddy. Completely tasteless, in Noelle's opinion, although she'd allow it might cause high school boys to think twice.



Buster had thought that tattoo was reasonable, too, she remembered—and without the "sorta" qualifier. She didn't want to think—



"I love it!" exclaimed Denise. "Here, I'll show you."



With no further ado, she yanked up the tank top, exposing her slim midriff.



"Oh, dear God," was all Noelle could think to say.



It was a lot better from an artistic standpoint, certainly. The tattoo artist had quite a bit of skill.



Still.



The central image, right on the girl's belly, was that of a sexpot wearing a flying jacket—not that any flying jacket would expose that much bosom—pants that looked painted on, and spike-heeled boots. She was sitting with her legs crossed—lounging, rather—and holding a bomb in one hand, with a sputtering fuse.



Smiling seductively, of course.



That was bad enough. The logo was worse.



Above the image: You can land here



Below it: If you don't crash



Denise frowned. "You don't like it?"



"Well . . ."



Huffily, the girl dropped the hem of the tank top. "Just 'cause you can't keep from beating around the bush. How's Eddie doing?"



"Fine," said Noelle. Warily: "Why do you ask?"



"He's cute." She jerked a thumb at Buster. "My dad even says he's okay. I thought I might drop by on him later."



"You stay away from Eddie!"



"I bet he'll like the tattoo."





Noelle hurried away to warn Eddie of an impending visitation by a one-girl Mongol horde.



Alas, Eddie seemed unconcerned. "What's the problem? I like Denise. A lot, in fact."



"She's wild. And she's much too young for you."



"Don't be silly, Noelle. Denise is a bit wild, I suppose—although nothing like my cousin Kaethe—but she's not actually foolish. And I'm certainly not."



That last was true enough. Noelle started to feel relieved until she saw that Eddie's gaze seemed more than a little unfocused. As if he were contemplating in his mind's eye a certain tattoo that she had, perhaps unfortunately, described in great detail.





However the visit turned out—and Noelle wasn't really worried, since Eddie was to deliberation what a cow was to munching grass—he seemed his usual self when she visited him the next morning. He had a large map of the SoTF and the surrounding territories spread out across his table, and was studying it intently.



"What are you doing?" she asked.



"Just indulging in my curiosity. I'm as tenacious as you are, you know. I just don't have your compulsion to act on it at all costs." He lifted his eyes from the map. "Any more news from Bohemia?"



Noelle flopped onto the nearby armchair. "Nothing. Well, not 'nothing.' Wallenstein is certainly taking seriously the incursion of an Austrian expedition into his territory, even a small one. He and Pappenheim have the Black Cuirassiers scouring the whole area. But . . . nothing. Not a sign of them. We just got another lack-of-progress report on the radio an hour ago."



Eddie nodded. "I'm not surprised. I've been thinking about it, and considering the terrain. It finally dawned on me that Drugeth probably didn't stay in Bohemia for very long."



Noelle sat up straight. "What?"