Night Shift
Page 30

Fiji had had some good luck, too. She’d had a customer at the time; a very credible customer, too—Bonnie Vasquez, wife of a local rancher, who’d wanted to get a pretty rainbow sun catcher for her granddaughter. Kiki had been at Gas N Go buying some Coca-Cola, which Fiji didn’t keep in the house, and chatting up the new manager. The Rev and Diederik had been weeding in the pet cemetery behind the church. Chuy had been doing a pedicure for Lenore Whitefield, the manager of the Midnight Hotel, who had never in her life had one, and Joe had been a tactfully busy spectator. Manfred had been working alone, of course, but he’d been on the phone with a frequent caller who would love to testify that she’d been talking to him. All the transient guests of the hotel had been gone, and the residential guests had been napping or watching television in the lobby . . . except for the one who’d been watching out his window.
It was amazing how all the townspeople were in the clear.
Olivia had described the whole event to Lemuel at length. He was usually entertained by her accounts of things that happened while he was in his day-sleep, and she had figured he’d be glad that Price Eggleston was off the board. But Lemuel hadn’t reacted the way she’d anticipated.
“Olivia,” he’d said, in that voice that was so rusty and antique, “do not go over to talk to Fiji or the Reeds by yourself.”
It was very seldom that Lemuel told her what to do. She glared at him. “Like I’m scared of the Reeds,” she said. “They don’t even exist, right? And no one’s scared of Fiji.”
“You do like her,” he said, as if he were confirming something. “She’s very powerful.”
“Of course I like her. When I’m not completely irritated with her. She’s practically the town puppy. I don’t know where you get the power?” Olivia kept the glare up. “And what’s with the Reeds? You think they’re outlaws on the run? You think Grady’s gonna bite me?”
“No, that’s for me to do,” Lemuel said, smiling, and a rush of heat from her groin to her cheeks made Olivia kiss him. They didn’t talk about the Reeds anymore after that. But in the light of day, Olivia realized that Lemuel knew what sparked her lust better than anyone ever had, and he might have deliberately diverted her.
Not that they both hadn’t enjoyed the encounter. A lot. Olivia had gotten so accustomed to Lemuel’s physical coldness that she didn’t think of it any more, except to be grateful in the summer. And she didn’t mind the energy being siphoned off; in fact, it was a relief. She was a calmer and more thoughtful person as a result. But. Back to the cause of the diversion.
Olivia considered the Reeds, surprised that she hadn’t spent more time puzzling them out. Manfred was right; several times, he’d brought up the anomaly of the Reeds, to the point where she’d wanted him to shut up and accept the fact that the Reeds were part of the town. Now, she could see his point. And Lemuel needed her help, which was rare. Surely, Olivia thought, there’s something I can to do to help him.
She decided she needed to go for a run.
Olivia was not a reader, and very little on television interested her. She liked to shoot: arrows, bullets, whatever. She liked to walk and run. So today she went to run in the bare stretch of land between the pawnshop and the Roca Fría River. Unlike track or road running, this involved lots of watching: for rocks, snakes, and cacti. After dodging the various hazards, she ran back to Midnight, still too restless to return to her small apartment.
Virtuously, Olivia did not walk over to Fiji’s, though she noted that the obnoxious sister’s car was gone. And she did not go to Home Cookin for lunch, either. Another gold star! Instead, she went to Gas N Go to meet the new manager. She did not mind at all that she was sweaty and had some hair plastered to her forehead.
When she pushed open the glass door, Olivia thought for a second that the new guy had brought a wife. She saw black hair that was long and shining. But when he turned around, she realized she’d made a very false assumption.
The new manager was very male and a Native American. Olivia estimated he was in his thirties—short, slim, and clad prosaically in a Gas N Go T shirt and jeans. He was someone who sent off a strong vibe. And that vibe said, “Don’t fuck with me, or you’ll be sorry.” She approved.
“So, hi, new neighbor,” Olivia said.
“Hi.”
“Welcome to town.”
A nod in return. Okay, this was going to be uphill. “I’m Olivia Charity. I live in an apartment below the pawnshop.”
“Sylvester Ravenwing,” he said.
She blinked. “So . . . Sylvester. You moved into the house the Lovells had?”
“The Lovells were the people that ran this place before me?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, the company offered me the use of the house, so I’m in it, for now. It’s a strange place. Locks on all the doors, some of them on the outside of a bedroom.”
“They had an unusual family situation,” Olivia said.
Sylvester didn’t ask any questions, which was odd. He seemed sorry to have said that much. And he wasn’t giving her any encouragement to continue the conversation. He’d returned to loading cigarette packages into the slotted box over the counter.
Olivia wandered down an aisle, and from among the little powdered doughnuts, the Slim Jims, the chocolate-covered peanuts, and the Red Hots, she spied something she actually wanted: Cheez-Its. She bought a large box and a bottle of water, at exorbitant convenience store prices. Sylvester Ravenwing had to look at her while she paid for them, so it was worth the money.
“Thank you so much,” she said sweetly, in as good an imitation of Brenda on the The Closer as she could manage.
“Welcome,” he said dryly. “Good-bye . . . Olivia.”
Olivia shook her head at his having to make an effort to remember her name. Carrying her purchases, she went to the door, thinking, Well, at least he is interesting. As she pushed the door open with her shoulder, she had a thought that made her turn back. “Have you been reading the papers?” she said. “Do you know what’s been happening here?”
Now he looked surprised. “What?” he said, and then looked as though he regretted showing curiosity.
“You really ought to get a paper out of the vending machine by the door and give it a read.” She smiled and left, pleased at having had the last word.