Blue Smoke

guard.”
    “Just keep walking.” Gib waited until they were through the thicket of neighbors. “I caught bits and pieces back there, and it sounds like there’s something going on I should know about. Somebody called Reena at your place.”
    “Yeah, the guy from before. The one who’s been hassling her. The one who set fire to the school? And she hasn’t said anything to you about any of this?”
    “Now you’re going to.”
    Not just flanked, Bo decided. Squeezed. “Better if you asked her.”
    “Better if I don’t help Xander hold you down while he does a prostate exam.”
    “Now those are fun,” Xander agreed.
    “Point taken. She should’ve told you, and now she’s going to be pissed I did. Maybe being the only child of divorced parents isn’t so bad. You guys are work.”
    He told them what he knew as they walked the two blocks to the clinic, and inside. Xander’s amusement had turned to stony silence. He gestured toward an exam table.
    “When did this start?” Gib demanded.
    “From what I gather, right after she moved in.”
    “And she says nothing.” Gib spun around, began to pace.
    “Steve either,” Xander pointed out, and began to clean the gash.
    Bo hissed in his breath at the sting. “Can’t you medical sadists come up with stuff that doesn’t burn down to the frigging bone?”
    “You’ve got a nice gash here, Bo. About six stitches’ worth.”
    “Six? Well, shit.”
    “Going to numb you up.”
    He studied the syringe Xander took from a drawer, then decided he preferred looking at Gib’s livid face. “I don’t know any more than that. I don’t know what his game is, but he’s got her on edge. She handles it, but it’s working on her.”

    “Someone she put in prison,” Gib murmured. “Someone she put in, who got out. My little girl and I are going to have a talk.”
    “Talk is our euphemism for yelling and swearing and occasionally throwing breakables,” Xander explained. “Little prick.”
    “I don’t think I deserve to be called a prick just because—ouch. Oh, you meant that kind of prick. Mr. Hale . . . Gib, you’re her father, so you’ve known her longer, you know her better, but I’d say yelling and swearing and throwing breakables isn’t going to change a thing.”
    Gib showed his teeth. “Never hurts to try.”
    The front door rattled open, and a moment later Jack came in with a shirt and shoes. He glanced at Bo’s arm, gave a wince of sympathy. “Bianca thought you could use these. Stitches, huh?”
    “Six, according to Dr. Gloom here.”
    “Close your eyes, and think of England,” Xander said to Bo.
    It could have been worse, Bo decided. He could have humiliated himself and squeaked like a girl. As it was he walked back home with his dignity fairly intact, sucking on the cherry lollipop Xander had handed him after the ordeal was over.
    Most of the crowd had dispersed, with a few lingering in clutches to watch the sort of thing he imagined they only saw on TV.
    Reena, O’Donnell and Steve, along with a couple of guys he figured were crime-scene people, were still swarming over the wreckage.
    He wondered if his insurance had to cover the damage to the cars caused by the flying parts of his truck. Man, his rates were going to soar like a frigging eagle.
    Reena broke away, crossed to him.
    “How’s the arm?”
    “Apparently I get to keep it. And I got a lollipop.”
    “It made him stop crying,” Xander told her. “As for the truck, that looks DOA.”
    “It’s bad,” she agreed. “Collateral damage on cars parked front and back—which includes mine. We’re about done with what we can do here. You can sign off on it, Bo, so we can take it into evidence.”

    “What about my tools? Any of my tools make it?”
    “Once we’re done, I’ll get what we’ve collected back to you. Mama’s inside.” She looked at her father. “She wanted to wait for you, to check on Bo.”
    “Fine. I’ll go wait with her.”
    “I’m going to be a little while longer here. It’s late, you should go on home.”
    “We’ll wait.”
    She frowned after Gib as he walked toward her house. “What’s going on?”
    “Come on, Jack, I’ll walk you home.” Xander slung an arm around his brother-in-law’s shoulders, looked at Bo. “Keep that dressing dry, use the ointment as prescribed. I’ll check on you tomorrow.” He caught Reena’s chin in his hand, kissed her on the cheek. “Your butt’s cooked. ’Night.”
    Jack kissed her forehead.