High-Caliber Concealer Page 16

  “Speaking of Canada,” said Peg. “Does anyone want to go into Canada tomorrow for some shopping? Sometimes it’s better there than in Spokane.”

  “Ellen can’t go to Canada,” said Jane. Nikki shot a disbelieving glare at Jane, who became flustered. “I mean, she didn’t bring her passport. Not that she’s wanted in Canada or anything. The Canadian borders have required passports since 9/11.” Jane trailed off in an awkward laugh.

  “That’s Jane—our idiot savant,” said Nikki.

  “This is the last time I let you watch my Due South DVDs,” said Ellen with a sigh. “It gives you weird ideas about Canada. She’s right though. I didn’t bring my passport. No Canadian shopping for me.”

  “No Canada, then,” agreed Peg. “Maybe tomorrow, Nikki can show you around town and where she grew up.”

  “Uh, if I have to,” said Nikki.

  “I’d like the tour,” said Z’ev grinning.

  “Donny invited us to a Fernandez shin-dig,” said Nikki.

  “Well, all right. But don’t stay too late. Those parties get out of control after ten,” said Peg.

  “I need to call him,” said Jackson.

  “I don’t want to go,” said Nell. “Lucia doesn’t like me.”

  “You insulted her tamales, Mom,” said Nikki for the hundredth time. The long saga of why Donny’s mom didn’t like Nikki’s mom could have filled six months worth of programming on Telemundo.

  “They were really dry,” said Nell. “I can’t help that.”

  “You can help saying it to her face.”

  “I’m honest,” said Nell. “That’s who I am.”

  “Well, then, don’t come.”

  “I won’t,” said Nell.

  Nikki sighed and rolled her head around on her neck. It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

  August XV

  Republican Pamphlets

  Nikki plunked a load of dishes into the sink and took a deep breath. It was times like this that she missed her Dad. She remembered him as a gregarious charmer who always seemed to have the right thing to say. She remembered a lot more laughing at the dinner table when he had been around.

  Nikki scrubbed extra hard a dish in the sink and wondered if Nell would have been a different kind of mother if Phillipe had been a different kind of father.

  “Well, this seems to be going well,” said Jane carrying in a stack of plates.

  Nikki stared at her in disbelief. Sometimes she thought Jane existed in a parallel universe. “My mother is offering to show my boyfriend my junior high photos. Jenny is draped over my ex-boyfriend, which would be a lot less annoying if he didn’t look so happy about it. And Ellen and my grandmother are attempting to discuss ammunition using mime, since they don’t want my mother to notice.”

  “I know! It was adorable.”

  “That part was adorable, but nothing else.”

  “I don’t know why you’re so uptight,” said Jane. “We can all handle ourselves around Z’ev, and aside from my gaff about Canada at dinner—which, I guess is why I shouldn’t be out in the field—I don’t think we’re in danger of exposing ourselves.”

  “You got too relaxed,” said Nikki, tiptoeing to the kitchen door and checked the hall. She could hear voices from the living room and the clatter of dishes from the dining room. “You’ll do better next time. Besides, it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s Z’ev and Jackson. Jackson is a straight arrow and can’t lie at all.”

  Jane paused in scraping the plates and stood up, putting one hand on her hip. “And what does he have to lie about?”

  “Well, we may have kissed,” whispered Nikki.

  “Oh, my God. Seriously? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I was planning on calling everyone tomorrow, but then you all arrived.”

  “No wonder you’re trying to keep Jenny’s boobs in check. OK, well, I think –” Whatever Jane had been about to say was cut off by an angry squawk from Nikki.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Nikki ran to the kitchen window where she could see Milt scrutinizing the cars in the driveway. She ran to the junk drawer and yanked it open, but her grandmother’s gun was no longer in residence. Storming into the dining room, she found Jackson gathering up the glasses.

  “Do you know where Peg put her gun?”

  “She told you about that thing, huh? I think she moved it somewhere before your mom arrived.”

  “What about you? You own a gun, right?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Where is it? In the truck? Give me the keys.” Nikki held out her hand for the keys.

  “All my guns are at home,” answered Jackson, backing up a pace.

  “What’re they doing at home?”

  “It’s not hunting season and I didn’t think I’d need to be packing heat at a family dinner party.”

  “But you’ve got something else, don’t you? Knife, something. I know you. You’re always packing something. Come on, fork it over.” Nikki reached forward and grabbed the waistband of his jeans, feeling for the weapon she was certain was there.

  “Nikki!” protested Jackson, laughing, as her hand dove into his back pocket.

  There was the slightest sound of a throat clearing, more of a murmur than an actual cough—Nikki froze. Then ever so slowly turned her head to the living room doorway.

  Z’ev raised an eyebrow. Nikki smiled manically.

  “I think I got that spider,” she said, straightening up and dusting Jackson off. “You should have seen it, honey,” she added over her shoulder. “It was huge.”

  “I think I’ll just go… somewhere else,” said Jackson, squeezing past Z’ev who stood immovable in the doorway.

  “Big spider,” said Nikki, measuring how big with thumb and forefinger. “Big.”

  “Rrrrright,” said Z’ev. “Your mom’s looking for you.”

  “Nikki,” said Nell, “Are we expecting anyone? I think there’s someone outside.” The doorbell rang. “Oh, well, there you go.” Nell walked down the hall.

  “Mom, wait!” Nikki ran after her, but Nell had already opened the door.

  “Well, Nell Lanier,” said Sheriff Smalls.

  Nells back stiffened. “Mervin Smalls. What are you doing here?”

  “My job, of course. I’m investigating a crime. I’m sheriff now, in case you hadn’t heard.”

  “I heard. I donated $500 to your opponent’s campaign.”

  Merv laughed. “A waste of your money I’m afraid.”

  “What crime could you possibly be investigating?” demanded Nell.

  “Well, interestingly enough, your daughter was involved in an altercation at a local establishment on Tuesday night and a car was stolen. A car that has not yet turned up. I’ve brought the owner to verify that none of the cars on your property are his.”

  “Are you suggesting that my daughter stole a car?”

  “Well, it seemed like it might be prudent to check,” said Merv. “Reports say that she was friendly with the thief.”

  “What reports?” asked Nikki, although neither the sheriff or her mother showed any signs of hearing her.

  “Mervin Smalls,” said Peg, coming out of the living room and into the hall. “Get the hell off my property.”

  “Mrs. Connelly, you seem to have taken offense when I offered to buy your property. If there’s some sort of mistake –”

  “I didn’t mistake nothin’. Now get the hell off my farm and don’t come back without a warrant.”

  “If that’s the way you want to play it,” said Merv, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on his gun belt.

  “Yes, I do. Nell, shut the door.”

  “Yes, mother,” said Nell, in tone of unbelievable compliance and slammed the door in the sheriff’s face.

  “Uh,” said Nikki.

  “So, we don’t like the sheriff?” asked Z’ev.

  “That sheriff used out-of-state money to get elected,” said Peg. “He’s been pressuring farmers all over the county to turn
in lists of their undocumented workers. And I heard Randall Cobb bought him off to keep from getting half his work force turned into Immigration.”

  “Randall Cobb is a known liar,” said Jackson, leaning against the living room door.

  Peg squinted unhappily. “That’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s lying about the sheriff.”

  “If people don’t want to get harassed by the sheriff, then possibly people should stop using illegal aliens.”

  “Well, you tell me how easy it is when your grapes come in,” snapped Peg. “We’ll see if you don’t change your tune then. I know you’re all hopped up on how undocumented aliens are a drain on our economy, but you’ve got to stop reading those Republican pamphlets. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again—nearly every dollar earned by an illegal immigrant stays in the US. There is no drain! And maybe I wouldn’t complain so loud if Mervin Smalls applied the law evenly across the board, but he doesn’t. Notice how his friends never have any troubles with their workers.”

  “I think you’ve got a little bit of a personal bias on the immigration issue,” said Jackson.

  “And I think, that…” said Peg, whirling around, her finger raised to wag under Jackson’s nose. She held the finger a second, seeming to reconsider whatever she had been about to say. “You should know better than to talk politics at a family gathering.”

  Jackson’s eyes flicked from Peg to Nell to Nikki. “You are absolutely right. My apologies.”

  Peg looked around at her guests. “I’m sure it’s time for pie,” she said with a forced smile. Nikki frowned at Peg and Jackson. Something had just happened, but she wasn’t sure what. The question was, who was she going to interrogate first—Peg or Jackson?

  August XVI

  Petticoat Junction

  “Tell me again why I couldn’t stay at the farm?” asked Z’ev as she drove toward his motel. From his sour expression, she could tell he felt insulted. He probably also felt like she should have stood up for him.

  “Because Grandma wouldn’t approve,” said Nikki, feeling a stab of guilt. She really should have demanded that he stay.

  “I didn’t hear her say she didn’t approve.” His tone was flat and emotionless, the way it was when he was totally pissed.

  “Look, I chickened out and froze, OK? I’ll figure it out tomorrow, but right now we’re already in the car and headed to the motel. Besides,” she said, slowing down to make a turn, cranking the wheel hand over hand, “the motel probably has more insulation than my room at the farm. And less clothes. And less butterflies.”

  “I think it’s a given about the butterflies,” said Z’ev. “I’m fairly certain the motel has zero butterflies. But why do we need insulation?”

  Nikki gave him a look. “Because I haven’t seen you in a month and I don’t know what you had planned, but I wasn’t thinking I’d just drop you off and head home.”

  “Ohhhh,” said Z’ev, moving his hand over to rest on her knee. “Sorry, I was being dense. Nope. The motel’s fine. Let’s go to the motel.” His hand slid a little higher, pushing up the skirt of her dress. “We could even go to the motel a little faster. You know, if you wanted.”

  Nikk’s foot involuntarily slammed down on the gas pedal. She forced it to ease up. “Jackson said they are very serious about the speeding tickets here. I don’t think my insurance can take any more speeding tickets.”

  “It’s not really the speeding ones that are killing you,” said Z’ev. “It was those reckless driving ones that did it.” His hand inched a little higher, getting lost under the yards of netting that made up her petticoat.

  “That was total crap,” said Nikki. “There was nothing reckless about my driving. I had everything under—” she gulped as his hand found the edge of her panties. “Control.” “Control” came out in a wavering tone and she bit her lip.

  “You probably shouldn’t have gone over the middle of the traffic circle,” he said, sliding a finger under the edge of her panties.

  “Traffic circles impede speed.”

  “That is what they’re designed to do,” he agreed.

  “And it was an emergency.” She breathed out audibly. She was working very hard to keep track of the conversation.

  “Definitely an emergency,” he agreed. The motel was finally in sight and Nikki was flipping off the ignition practically before she had finished parking.

  “You are a danger to the highways,” she said, taking off her seatbelt.

  “I wasn’t the one driving,” he said, pulling her out of the driver’s seat and into his lap.

  “You were causing reckless endangerment of pedestrians,” she said between kisses and loosening his tie.

  “You know it turns you on.” He paused a few moments later. “Seriously, are you wearing a tutu? What is going on with this dress?”

  Nikki giggled. “It’s the petticoat for my 1950s photo shoot. So the dress is extra fluffy.”

  “Extra fluffy in all the wrong places. No wonder everyone in the fifties slept in separate beds. I can’t actually find you under all this crap.”

  “Well, we could go into your room,” said Nikki. “I’ll show you how it comes off.”

  “A plan I can get behind.” He opened the door and there was a tangle of limbs as they tried to exit the car gracefully. Finally upright, she leaned against the car, panting a little. “No more petticoats,” he said, reaching back into the car for her purse and locking the door. “From now on, we stick to decades with less underwear. The seventies, for instance. I fully support the braless seventies.”

  “You say that now,” said Nikki, taking her purse. “But I’m not sure how you’d look in bellbottoms.” She surveyed his butt as he led the way to his motel room. “On the other hand, maybe it would be fine.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” he said, unlocking the door, and snapping on the light. “I’d have to buy Chuck Norris Action Slacks.”

  Nikki laughed and turned to shut the door. “Z’ev? How much money did you take off those guys at craps?”

  “Five hundred bucks or so. Nothing big, why?”

  Nikki stared at the car parked across the street in the Kessel Run parking lot. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she’d seen it in her rear view mirror on the drive.

  “No reason,” said Nikki, shutting the door. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Z’ev looked at her and then flicked off the light and went to the window. The neon arrow from the Kessel Run illuminated the room in successive bursts of blue and green. “I don’t recognize the car,” he said, “But someone is definitely inside.” There was the flare of a lighter and they could both see the glowing tip of the cigarette for a moment.

  “It’s probably someone smoking before they go into the Kessel Run,” said Nikki.

  “Is there any reason to think it isn’t?” asked Z’ev looking at Nikki.

  “No,” she said smiling. “I’m just paranoid about motels ever since I saw that Vacancy movie.”

  A woman got out of the car, barely a silhouette in the light from the parking lot, snubbed out the cigarette on the ground and went into the Kessel Run.

  “Uh-huh.” He shut the curtain, locked the door, and turned on the bedside light before beginning his evening routine. As usual, his things were laid out with OCD precision and while Nikki watched, he removed his wallet and placed it on the bedside table, followed by his watch. His tie came off and was folded and placed next to his bag. Nikki picked up the tie and began rolling it. He fiddled with his phone, dialing up music and placed it on the table.

  “What are you doing?” he asked removing the now rolled tie from her hands.

  “If you fold a tie for packing it gets creases. It’s better to roll it.”

  He’d set the station to 1940s pop and after setting down the tie with a shake of his head, he pulled her into a dreamy box waltz.

  Nikki sighed as she relaxed into his shoulder. “Have I mentioned that I love that you dance?”

  “Once or twice. You caused me to wri
te my grandmother a thank you note. My mother was annoyed.”

  “Why was your mom annoyed?”

  “Well, apparently forcing me to go to those dance lessons was serious work for my mom, and she only stuck with it because Grandma insisted, but she thought it was sort of useless. And getting my note made Grandma so smug she was insufferable for a week.”

  Nikki giggled and then sighed again. “I missed you.” His arm tightened around her waist, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he kissed her neck, following along the curve until he got to the spot just behind her ear.

  “You were going to show me how the dress comes off?” he murmured.

  “Ah, yes, it’s very complicated. There’s a zipper at the back.”

  “Mm-hmm.” His hands found the zipper and inched slowly downward, exposing one inch of skin to the air-conditioned room at a time. Nikki began to unbutton his shirt, returning the favor. “Does it go up or down?”

  “The zipper goes both ways,” said Nikki and was rewarded with a pinch to her butt, barely felt through the petticoat. She giggled. “The dress goes up.” The dress was yanked over her head and as she laughed, he pushed her backwards onto the bed. “You still haven’t dealt with the petticoat.”

  “What? Are you in a hurry?” He picked up her foot and gently removed her shoe before flinging it across the room.

  “Yes! One month, Z’ev. It’s been one month!”

  “So what you’re saying is that you want me to get closer?” The other shoe went spinning through the air.

  “There’s something wrong with you. Normal men –“ Whatever Nikki had been about to say next was silenced by Z’ev’s mouth. The petticoat was brutally removed and her bra was popped off with a speed and efficiency that sent it flying across the room.

  An hour later, as they lay in the darkness entangled in the sheets, Z’ev fumbled with his phone to turn off the music. In the silence that followed, Nikki snuggled against him and then pushed away.

  “You’re too warm,” she complained.