“I’m sorry?” She couldn’t believe the woman could say something that rude.
Milly hurried to cover her mistake. “Oh, not that we wouldn’t welcome you. Forever’s a friendly town. It’s just that now’s not a good time for visitors.”
Christy was about to ask why—even though she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know—when Milly put her back to her and walked off, her phone to her ear.
Christy tried to resist glancing around her but failed. When she did and found the townspeople watching her with frank appraisals, she wished she hadn’t.
Shit, shit, shit. What did I get myself into?
Chapter Two
“Brig’s tied up right this minute, but he’ll come as soon as he can.” Milly scooped up Christy’s order off the pass-through and put it in front of her. “If anyone can get your car going again, it’s Brig. We call him the Miracle Worker when it comes to fixing things.”
“Great. I appreciate you calling him.” She tried to keep an optimistic view of things most of the time, but she had a sinking feeling that no one, not even Brig the Miracle Worker, could get her car going again.
She nibbled at her food, but her appetite was gone. It wasn’t easy to eat when people were staring. Yet, aside from waiting in her car, she didn’t have anywhere else to go. “Milly?”
“Yeah?” Milly mopped up the counter area. “What can I do you for?”
“What did you mean when you said this isn’t a good time to visit?” She hoped she wasn’t getting too personal or stepping on anyone’s toes, but it had been a strange thing for Milly to say. If nothing else, she was a curious person.
Curiosity killed the cat. And it can get girls like you into trouble.
Her parents had told her that every time she’d stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong. Absently, she rubbed the end of her nose, noticed what she was doing, and jerked her hand back to her lap.
Milly’s furtive glance around the room didn’t make Christy any less nervous. Whatever Milly was talking about had to do with other people, possibly even the entire town. Images of the horrific deaths from the monster movies she loved flashed through her mind. But she dismissed her worries. Those were movies and not real life. Even if real monsters existed, there couldn’t be a whole town of them. Could there?
She took another bite of her sandwich and thrust the ridiculous idea away.
Her attention drifted to a table of three men and one woman. What was so different about them? And then it hit her. They all had strange eyes that seemed to glow with hints of amber. She shifted her focus back to Milly and lifted her eyebrows, telling her that she was waiting for an answer.
“Oh, well, let me see if I can put this the right way. It’s just that a lot of people tend to leave town right now.” Milly frowned, still having trouble figuring out exactly what to say. “You know. On vacation.”
“Really? I wouldn’t think that would happen that much in a small town.”
Milly’s shrug seemed forced. “What can I say? People in small towns like to go on vacations, too. Be right with you, Hector.” Milly lifted a hand to the man sitting alone near the front window, then moved away at a fast clip.
It’s like she’s trying to get away from me so she doesn’t have to answer any more questions.
Christy took a swig of the water Milly had placed in front of her. “You’re being paranoid,” she whispered to herself.
“Miss Smith?”
She jerked her head up and spun around on the barstool. A huge, burly man that reminded her of a grizzly bear she’d once seen at a zoo wiped his massive, dirty hands on his even dirtier shirt. His beard was scraggly and his hair unkempt and she had the feeling that his present appearance wasn’t unusual. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath could’ve knocked a real bear off its feet.
“Yes?”
“I looked at your car.”
“You did? But didn’t you need the keys?” She hadn’t locked it, but he’d need a key to try and start Sally.
“Nope. All I needed was a look under the hood. It was pretty plain and simple to find the problem.”
“And what is it?” She didn’t bother asking how much. She’d have to pay the cost no matter what.
He went into a long discourse and used words she didn’t understand, punctuated once in a while with a word she remembered from listening to one of her ex-boyfriends. Nodding at “carburetor” and “pistons,” then “fan belt,” she acted like she knew what the hell he was saying. She remembered that she’d dumped the boyfriend because of his constant infatuation with his car and the endless hours she’d had to endure while he discussed the finer points of his vehicle.