Manhunting

  “This is beautiful,” she told the young man. “I love this part of the lake, and now I’ll always have it with me.”

  “My mom painted that,” he said. “I’ll tell her what you said. She’ll be real happy.”

  Donald snorted.

  They went into Mother’s Sewing Basket and looked at locally made quilts and coverlets. Penny found a crazy quilt in shades of yellow. “This would look great on my bed,” she said. Brian grew pale at the thought and moved closer to her. “Cheap fabric,” Donald said. “They’re using polyester instead of cotton.” The little old woman stitching by the window looked ready to cry, so Kate bought a peach-and-blue comforter for her apartment.

  “I’ve never had a real patchwork quilt before,” she told the old woman. “This will keep me warm all winter.”

  “It will that,” the old woman said, and patted her hand.

  Donald sneered.

  They went into Cline’s Dry Goods and found rows of cotton and flannel shirts in bright plaids, stacks of dark blue jeans, and piles of socks, white T-shirts, and underwear that Donald snickered at. They also found, to Penny’s delight, a rack of cowboy hats.

  Mrs. Cline came out from behind the counter to help her.

  “You’re so pretty, you’ll look a treat in any of them, honey,” she told Penny. “It’s a real pleasure to see you try them on.”

  Penny beamed at her and tried on a blue one with golden feathers around the crown.

  “All right,” Brian said.

  “It’s you,” Kate said, laughing. “You have to have it.”

  “You, too.” Penny pulled her over to the rack. “You get one, too.”

  Mrs. Cline picked up a red hat with white beads. “Try this one,” she urged Kate. “You’d be a picture in a red dress and this one.”

  Kate hesitated, and Penny shook her head. “No. That one.” She pointed to a black hat with silver medallions around its crown.

  “That’s for a man, honey,” Mrs. Cline said, but she got it down anyway.

  Kate put it on and mugged with Penny in the mirror.

  “We’ll wear these tonight,” Penny said, and Kate was about to tell her no, cowboy hats weren’t her style, when Donald picked the hat off her head.

  “One hundred and twenty-five dollars? That’s ridiculous.”

  Kate saw Mrs. Cline color.

  “I don’t think so.” Kate took the hat back from him, even though she did think so. “This is a high-quality hat. I’d have to pay a lot more for this in the city.”

  She put it on again and let it slide back so it framed her face. She looked a little bald with all her hair pulled into a chignon, so she took the pins out and let her hair fall free.

  “All right,” Penny said.

  “Now it’s worth one hundred and twenty-five dollars,” Donald said gallantly.

  If she wore braids, she could pretend she was Annie Oakley. She’d always wanted to be Annie Oakley. What was she going to do with a one-hundred-and-twenty-five-dollar cowboy hat?

  She looked at Mrs. Cline, who looked at her and smiled.

  “I’ll take it,” she said. “Penny’s, too. My treat.”

  “Oh, Kate, really?”

  “Really,” Kate said.

  They went into Dickerson’s Snack Shop because Kate said she was tired of shopping. In truth, she was tired of spending money on things she really didn’t want. It’d be just her luck that the next place they’d end up would be a car dealership, and she’d have to make up for Donald’s big mouth by buying a ‘69 Chevy.

  “Hi, folks.” A round little woman came to the table, a pad in her hand. “What’ll it be?”

  “Hamburger and fries, lots of catsup,” Penny said.

  “Hamburger and fries, lots of catsup,” Brian said, adoringly.

  “Do you have anything broiled?” Donald asked.

  “Mashed potatoes and gravy,” Kate said, reading the menu. “You have mashed potatoes and gravy?”

  “Sure do.” The little woman beamed at her. “I make ‘em myself.”

  “I love mashed potatoes and gravy,” Kate said. “Real homemade mashed potatoes and gravy. Two orders, please.”

  The potatoes when they came were light and fluffy, the gravy dark and speckled with meat chunks and scrapings.

  “I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Kate said and the little woman laughed.

  “Kate,” Donald said loudly when she’d gone back behind the counter, “they’re instant.”

  Kate looked horrified. “They can’t be.” She tasted them. They were thick and rich, full of butter and real potato. “They’re real.”

  “No place like this could afford the time to make real mashed potatoes,” Donald told her. “They’re instant.”

  Kate ignored him. The gravy was salty and thick, the potatoes creamy, the meat falling apart on her fork. Who needed men? She had this.

  “Kate!” Donald was as outraged as if he’d read her mind.

  “They’re real.” She scooped up another mound. A piece of meat fell off, and she raised her fork to spear it.

  “Let me see.” He thrust his hand over the plate just as she aimed the fork.

  Later, she couldn’t remember whether she’d had time to stop, or if Donald’s trying to ruin her potatoes the way he’d ruined everything else had made her temporarily insane. Whatever the reason, she stabbed him with the sharp, narrow, old-fashioned fork and hit a vein in the back of his hand.

  Donald screamed, and she shoved his hand away so he wouldn’t get blood on her potatoes.

  “I’m so sorry, Donald,” she said and took another bite.

  An hour later, Kate stopped by the cabin and dropped off the things she’d bought and then strolled back to the pool for a while. Two orders of Mrs. Dickerson’s mashed potatoes had made her world a better place, even though Donald tried to make her leave after Mrs. Dickerson had wrapped his hand in gauze.

  “I’m almost finished,” she’d told him, “and you’re not bleeding anymore.”

  He was standing at the bar when she sat down next to the pool, drinking with his left hand and ignoring her. Obviously he wasn’t going to be making any passes at her tonight. Just as well, she told herself. He’d probably tell me that my nightgown was polyester and that I’d faked my orgasm. And he’d have been wrong about the nightgown and right about the orgasm.

  Penny waved to her and she moved to the chair beside her. “Thank you for talking me into going into town today,” she told Penny. “I had a very good time.”

  “Well, don’t forget, we’re going to Nancy’s tonight, too,” Penny said.

  “Anything you say,” Kate said and slouched down in her chair to enjoy the late afternoon.

  Jake watched her slouch and then deliberately turned away. She didn’t seem upset, but something had pretty clearly gone wrong that afternoon; for one thing, Donald the gnat was wearing a bandage. She must have done something to him. Jake grinned, wondering what he had done.

  He felt somebody at his elbow and turned to see Kate.

  “Soda,” she said. “Any kind. I’m dying of thirst.”

  “Sure.” Jake moved behind the bar. “So how did the plan go today?”

  Kate glanced over at Donald who was glaring at her as he nursed his hand. “Not well. Why?”

  “I was curious as to why old Donald was wearing a bandage. You were my first guess. What’d you do, bite him?”

  “He should be so lucky,” Kate said. “I stabbed him.”

  Jake handed her a drink. “Try not to injure anybody else, okay?”

  “He deserved it,” Kate said.

  “I’m sure he did. But if you go around wounding every guy who deserves it, you’ll be taking out most of the hotel.”

  “I’ll behave,” Kate said. “I’m not even going to be at the hotel tonight. Penny’s taking me someplace called Nancy’s.”

  “I’ll warn Nancy,” Jake said.

  “Very funny,” Kate said and walked back to her chair while Jake watched.


  I’m really not attracted to her kind, Jake thought. Which is a good thing, because if I was, I could be in deep trouble here.

  Penny knocked on Kate’s door at seven. “Come on, Kate,” she called. “Let’s go.” She was wearing white hoop earrings the size of bracelets, her new cowboy hat, and a neon-blue scoop-necked cotton-knit shift that stopped a good distance above her knees. She had exquisite knees.

  Penny came in and sat on the bed and her dress rose above her thighs. She had great thighs, too. “You’re going to love Nancy’s. Everybody says it’s the best—a real country bar. Everybody goes there.”

  “Right,” Kate said. “I’m going. Just give me a minute.”

  What to wear was a problem. She really liked Penny, but going places with her was depressing. No thighs or knees, she told herself. You can’t compete.

  She pulled her white silk halter dress out of the closet. It was a little formal and draped a little low in the back for a bar, but it was also calf-length. She looked at Penny’s thighs. This was the dress.

  She put her hair back in the chignon and put on her gold hoops.

  “You should leave your hair down,” Penny told her. “It looks really good down.”

  “It’s messy.” Kate tucked a loose strand firmly behind her ear.

  “Men like messy hair. They like to touch it.”

  Kate looked at Penny’s hair, tumbling all over her shoulders. It was lovely.

  “Not my style.” She put in another bobby pin.

  Penny sighed and followed her out to the car.

  Surprisingly enough, Kate liked the bar. It was everything Penny had said—a real country bar. The light was dim, the tables were scarred wood, and a jukebox glowed neon as it moaned country and western to the crowd. In the background, Kate could hear the snick of pool balls and see people playing under hanging lights, and somewhere someone was playing pinball. A real bar. Not a fern in the place.

  A good-looking redhead was tending the old oak bar, wiping down the thick white-veined marble top. Like the rest of the waitresses, she was wearing a well-filled black tank top and a pink vest. Unlike the rest of the waitresses, she was self-possessed and over thirty. Kate made a bet with herself that this was Nancy.

  “White wine, please.” Kate sat on the barstool in front of her, and the redhead poured her drink. Penny stood with her back to the bar, surveying the room.

  “I’m Nancy,” the redhead said. “You want anything, just holler my name. Everybody else around here does.”

  Kate smiled. “I’m Kate. And this is Penny.”

  “I love your bar,” Penny said, turning around. “It’s just too authentic.”

  “Thanks,” Nancy said. “That’s definitely the ambience we wanted.”

  Kate looked at her with more interest than before. “Exactly how do you achieve this authentic ambience?”

  “Oh, it’s not hard. We just hire a couple of guys in plaid shirts to come in and play pool and spit on the floor.”

  “You hired them?” Penny asked.

  “It’s a joke, Penny,” Kate said.

  “Actually, the guy in the blue plaid shirt back there is my husband.”

  Kate looked back to the pool table. The guy in the blue plaid was blond and stocky. He was staring sadly at the table where a big man in a cream-colored cowboy hat was knocking balls into the pockets with disheartening precision.

  “Isn’t that Jake?” Penny asked.

  “You know Jake?” Nancy shook her head. “He’s beating Ben at pool. They’ve been playing off and on for about five years now. Ben’s never won once.”

  “Why does he keep playing?” Kate asked.

  “He says he’s getting better.”

  “Well, you have to admire a man who doesn’t quit.”

  “Jake says he’s getting worse.”

  “Jake’s dreamy,” Penny said.

  “Go tell him,” Nancy said. “Maybe you’ll distract him and Ben will win.”

  “Maybe later,” Penny said. “We want to scope out the action. Right, Kate?”

  “What do you want to drink, Penny?” Kate asked hastily. “I’ll buy.”

  “Strawberry daiquiri,” Penny said.

  Nancy sighed.

  “How about a beer?” Kate suggested. “Men in places like this love women who drink beer.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Did you ever see Urban Cowboy?”

  “No,” Penny said. “Beer, please.”

  “Thank you,” Nancy said to Kate and went to get Penny’s beer.

  Over by the pool table, Ben looked up. “Check out the talent at the bar.”

  Jake glanced over his shoulder and stopped for a moment to stare. Then he turned back to the table. “The one in white is Kate.”

  “The killer?” Ben took a longer look. “That’s some dress.”

  “Yep,” Jake said. “I think you just lost this game, son.”

  Ben looked at him skeptically. “You said she was a nice kid.”

  “She is.” Jake studied the table. “Aside from the damage she does to her dates.”

  He leaned over to take his shot, and Ben looked at him and shook his head. “That is no kid.”

  Jake pocketed the last ball. “No, but that is the game. You got time for another?”

  “Hell, yes. My winning streak is about to start.” Ben looked back at Kate. “She’s not a real blonde.”

  “The hell she isn’t.”

  “Twenty bucks says she isn’t.”

  Jake looked at him in disgust. “And how do you propose we settle the bet?”

  “I propose you find out,” Ben said, grinning.

  “Find out for yourself.” Jake moved around the table to rack the balls. “But make sure I get the twenty from your estate. Death is no reason not to pay off your bets.”

  “This is a wonderful place, Penny,” Kate said. “Thank you for bringing me. In fact, I like it so much, I’m going to buy the next round, too.”

  “Oh, shoot,” Penny said. “We won’t have to buy any more beers. That’s what guys are for. Look at that guy in the black Stetson.”

  The guy in the Stetson was ersatz cowboy, right down to his spurs. Expensive ersatz cowboy. He was probably a dentist from Detroit. Still, if Penny liked him, Kate wasn’t going to be a snob. “He’s very attractive, Penny.”

  “He’s smiling at us.” Penny smiled back. The dentist ambled over.

  “Howdy, little lady.” He touched the brim of his hat “Could I buy you a drink?”

  “Sure could,” Penny said. “This is my friend, Kate.”

  “Just leaving.” Kate backed away a few seats, taking her wine with her. The dentist smiled his appreciation.

  Why is it, Kate thought as she backed up, that Jake and Penny can look honestly charming in their cowboy hats and yet this man looks like such a loser? And those spurs. Those spurs would make me very nervous.

  She stopped with a bump when she backed into someone. She turned to apologize and got a good look at the man she’d bumped—he was tall, rangy, blond, and devastatingly good-looking.

  Hello, she thought. He wasn’t exactly part of her plan, but then her plan was obviously not working anyway.

  “Lemme buy you a drink, honey,” he slurred, grabbing her arm.

  The moment of her temptation was gone. She didn’t like grabbers, especially drunk grabbers.

  “Thanks but no thanks.” She smiled sweetly and tried to move away from him, but he blocked her way, holding on to her.

  “Back off, Brad,” Nancy said from behind the bar. “She’s not interested.”

  “She will be. Just got to give her a little time.” Brad tried to kiss her but Kate ducked and all he caught was her ear. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nancy wave to somebody, and then she concentrated on getting away from Brad.

  Across the room, Ben looked up at Nancy’s wave and saw the minidrama unfolding at the bar.

  “Uh-oh,” he said. “Brad’s putting the moves on your kid. Want to go save her?”
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  Jake looked up. “No.” He sighed and put his cue down. “But I’ll go save Brad. He’s kind of obnoxious, but he doesn’t deserve what Kate will do to him.”

  Chapter Six

  “I’m warning you,” Kate told Brad. “Let go of me or you’ll be scarred for life.”

  “I like ‘em spunky.” Brad pulled her close again.

  “Well, Brad, how’s it goin’?”

  Kate turned around and Ben was there, smiling at them, with Jake behind him.

  “You don’t want to mess with her, Brad,” Jake said. “Trust me on this one.”

  “I saw her first.” Brad shoved Kate behind him.

  “I think the lady wants to go home,” Nancy said.

  “She can go home with me,” Brad said.

  “I don’t think so, boy.” Ben took a step forward.

  Brad moved into karate position, bunching his fists and glaring at the two men.

  Jake sighed. “You’ve been watching TV again, haven’t you, Brad?”

  Kate could feel Brad tense. “Oh, hell,” she said. She picked up a long-necked beer bottle from the bar and broke it over Brad’s head, and Jake supported his weight as he sagged.

  “You had to do it, didn’t you?” Jake said to Kate.

  “He was going to hit you,” Kate said. “I saved you, you big ingrate.”

  “Where’s the blonde?” Brad asked dazedly.

  “I don’t think she’s really your kind of girl, Brad.”

  Jake helped him into a chair at the nearest table. “Those tough blondes, they’ll hit you from behind with a bottle as soon as look at you.”

  “Very funny,” Kate said.

  Jake raised his eyebrows at her. “Well, you may have noticed that I’ve never turned my back on you.”

  “Anytime you want a job, lady,” Nancy said, “you come to me.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” Kate said. “This is a great place. Allowing for the drunks and the wimpy bouncers.”

  “I’m not a bouncer.” Jake looked indignant. “You a bouncer, Ben?”

  “Hell no, I just like a fight. And if there’s not gonna be one, I’m gonna go shoot pool. My winning streak’s starting any minute here. You coming?”