Angels Fall

could figure it out."
    He gave her a pat on the hand. "Why don't I do that for you? I thought I'd head up there for lunch today anyhow. Won't take me long."
    Ask for help when you need it. Reece remembered. "I'd really appreciate that, Mr. Drubber."
    "Next to done already. I don't blame you for being a little bit nervous. A good strong lock'll make you feel better."
    "I know it will." She looked around when the door opened. "Morning. Mr. Sampson," she said when Carl came in.
    "Morning. How you doing?"
    "I'm okay. Um, I guess the sheriff's already talked to you, but I just wonder if either of you has seen a woman with long dark hair and a red coat in town in the last few days."
    "Had some hikers,'" Mac told her. "All of them male, though two of them wore earrings. One of 'em in his nose."
    "Get lots of that in the winter with the snowboarders," Carl commented. "The boys got more hardware stuck to them than the girls. Had that retired couple from Minnesota come through here in an RV couple days ago," he reminded Mac.
    "The woman's hair was stone gray. Carl, and he was carrying three hundred pounds if he was carrying an ounce. That's not the sort the sheriff asked about."
    "Just saying." Carl glanced over at Reece. "Could be the people you saw were just wrestling. Playing around, like. People do the damnedest things."
    "Yes, they do." Reece reached for her wallet. "Should I just leave the lock with you, Mr. Drubber?"
    "That'll be fine, and put your money away. I'll put this on Joanie's tab."
    "Oh no, it's for me, so—"
    "You planning on drilling it out of the door and taking it with you somewhere?"
    "No, but—"
    "I'll settle it up with Joanie. You got a soup special today?"
    "Old-fashioned chicken noodle."
    "That'll hit the spot. Anything else you need today?"
    "Actually, I do, but I'll have to get it later. Break's over."
    "Give me the list." He picked up a pencil, licked the tip. "I'll bring it up when I come for lunch."
    "Some service. Ah, I need a small rump roast, a pound of new potatoes, a pound of carrots," she began.
    When she'd run through it. Mac wiggled his eyebrows. "That sounds like company dinner."
    "I guess it is." Where was the harm? "I'm cooking for Brody. He's helped me out with a few things recently."
    "Bet he's getting the best end of that deal."
    "Any leftovers, they're yours. For putting in the lock."
    "There's a deal."
    She headed back, drawing in air fresh and cool from the night's storm. She'd handled it. Done the sensible thing.
    And when she went to bed that night—alone or otherwise—she'd have a strong new lock on the door.
     
    LO CRUISED INTO Angel's Fist in his Ford pickup with a Waylon Jennings CD wailing on the stereo. Outside of town he'd been listening to Faith Mill, whom he considered extreme on the hot-o-meter. But even with that, and her superior pipes, a guy just couldn't be riding around in town with a girl singing in his pickup.
    Unless she was alive and kicking, anyway.
    He had his mind on a girl now. Actually on a couple, but he had plenty of room in his mind for females. He saw one of them in skinny jeans and a red sweatshirt standing on a stepladder painting the shutters on the little dollhouse she rented a bright, sunny yellow.
    He gunned the motor, waiting for her to turn and admire the way he looked in the muscular black truck. When she didn't, he rolled his eyes, pulled over.
    God knew he'd always had to work harder with this female for crumbs than he ever did with others for the whole damn cake.
    "Hey, Linda-gail!"
    "Hey, yourself." She kept right on painting.
    "What are you doing?"
    "'Having myself a facial and a pedicure. What does it look like I'm doing?"
    He gave another eye roll and got out of the truck to saunter over. "Got the day off?" He'd already snuck a look at the schedule and knew she did.
    "That's right. You?"
    "Got some people in, but they're going on a paddling tour today. You seen Reece?"
    "No." She slapped paint on wood hard enough to splatter it and make him jump out of range.
    "Watch it."
    "Move it."
    Ornery woman, he thought. He didn't know why he kept coming back for more abuse. "Listen, I just wondered how she was, that's all."
    "Your ma said to give her room, so I'm giving her room." Still she sighed, lowered the brush. "I wish I knew, though. It's an awful thing."
    "Awful," he repeated and waited a moment. "Kind of exciting, though."
    "It is !" She twisted around to look down at him. "We're sick, sick people, but God, murder and all. Bebe