He backed out, his slow moves evidence of his reluctance. What did he think? I'd scramble out the window? I looked toward it. It was way too small. I'd never make it.
"I'll warm up the car," he said.
I gave him a thumbs-up, then shut the door and collapsed against it. The Reyes Effect was still screaming though me, pulsing along my nerve endings, whetting my appetite for more. But it didn't matter. I had to get my hormones under control. He loved someone else, and there was nothing I could do about it. Absolutely nothing.
I changed clothes, then pulled Reyes's jacket on, breathing him in as I did so. Before I left, I said a quick good-bye to Irma.
"Hold down the fort, Irm!"
I had no idea what her name really was. She was there when I'd rented the apartment, hovering with her nose in a corner, never moving, never speaking, her toes several inches from the floor. She wore a bright floral muumuu and love beads despite her tiny stature and advanced age. She was old enough for blue hair, so I was guessing she was at least seventy.
I almost didn't rent the apartment when I saw her there, but I really needed out of that storeroom, and this was the only thing I could afford. Once I got used to her, I couldn't imagine the apartment without her.
As usual, I didn't get a reply from Irma. Ian was in his running car when I braved the cold once again. At least it had quit raining at last. I held up an index finger to tell him to give me a minute, then ran next door and knocked lightly on Mable's window. I didn't want to wake her if she was already asleep, but she called out for me to come in.
"Hey, hon," I said, dragging a frozen, wet sandwich out of the paper bag.
Mable was already in her pajamas and housecoat, getting ready to settle down for the evening. "Have you seen my brush?" she asked me. "The brown one?"
I chuckled. "Not lately. I brought your favorite, but it's kind of squished. And frozen."
"Oh, honey, squished and frozen are my middle names."
Yesterday her middle name was suppository. Long story.
She hurried over, her face the picture of glee. Surely she could roast the sandwich to dry it out a bit. Make it crunchy.
"Can I borrow the car when Stan brings it back?"
"You can borrow it now. He doesn't have it. Little shit wrecked it the other night."
Alarmed, I asked, "Is he okay?"
"He's fine. It was just a fender bender. Barely left a scratch. Nothing to write the governor about."
That woman loved to write the governor. "That's good. So it's not in the shop?"
"Nope. It's in my backyard. He doesn't get to take it anymore until he pays for the damage."
"God bless you. Kids these days." I didn't mention the fact that Stan and I were very close to the same age.
"But you can take it anytime, sweet cheeks."
"Thank you," I said, rushing around her counter to give her a squeeze.
She fought me off with a threatening wave of her spatula, but relented and let me give her a quick hug.
"Key's on the hook."
I grabbed the key to her Fiesta, wishing I'd known about the car situation beforehand. I could've avoided another evening with the cop voted most likely to be put on administrative leave pending a psych eval. It was a real award. Oh well, surveillance could begin later. It might be better if it did, in fact. I could check out Mr. V's house after bedtime when everyone had settled in for the night.
I ran outside, held up my finger again to an ever-more-agitated Ian, and sprinted across the street, only almost busting my ass on the ice once. I saw a soft glow coming from inside the shed. He must have gotten oil for his lamp.
I picked my way carefully through the brush and to the fallen structure. "James?" I called out.
He didn't like me to get too close, so I put the bag just outside what used to be the shed door.
"I'm leaving your sandwich here. I apologize for the state it's in."
After a moment, I heard a grunt and then a honk.
A honk!
Ian had honked at me. I whirled around and glared at him, though I doubted he could see me. I would not be honked at. That was absolutely the final straw. This ended tonight.
I could've just broken off our friendship right then and there and taken Mable's car, but I wanted to explain to him why we couldn't see each other anymore. And I wanted to do it in a public place. I didn't trust him. Thinking back, I'd never really trusted him. Even that first night.
We drove to the café, which took all of two minutes, in absolute silence. He knew the honking thing had set me on edge, so he wisely kept his mouth shut. His emotions, however, raged behind his stony visage, and they spoke volumes. He was pissed. At me. For being mad at him. At least that was my guess. Of all the gall. I suddenly could not wait for our relationship to come to an end.