Lucky Streak

Yeah, he thought. He was.

Damn.

The phone rang and, grateful for the distraction, he answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“When are you getting your woman out of my hair?” his father blurted, not bothering to say hello first.

Mike realized he should be more worried about Edward driving Amber crazy than Edward softening toward her.

“I’m working on it,” he said.

And he was. He’d started by digging into King Bobby Boyd’s background. Earlier today he’d called the small downtown Texas police department where King Bobby Boyd’s Used-Car Dealership was located. Thanks to professional courtesy, he’d gotten some basic information, which hadn’t been the least bit helpful.

No police record, not even a driving infraction. The man was squeaky clean and, according to the chief, full of hot air. Mike would have been relieved, except that the chief also mentioned that King Bobby was as dirty as his used cars, only no one had been able to pin anything on him. And he didn’t only deal in stolen cars. It was common knowledge that the man had big-time criminal connections. But again, the man couldn’t be arrested for the company he kept, and nobody had ever managed to pin anything on King Bobby Boyd. Even the Texas chief had used the stupid moniker of King.

Without a rap sheet, Mike had turned to a P.I. the police chief had recommended. It wasn’t a direction Mike had wanted to go in, but he had no choice. If he couldn’t catch the King for being involved in illegal dealings, he’d just find another vice. In Mike’s experience, guys who liked the rush of high-stakes poker games always came with other failings.

Mike planned to uncover King Bobby’s skeletons and use them in exchange for the man’s agreement to leave Amber alone. Mike wouldn’t call it bribery, it was more of a quid pro quo. In any case, he now knew King Bobby was a legitimate threat.

“Hey, these minutes are costin’ me money. Are you listening?” Edward bellowed into the phone line.

Technically they were costing Mike money, but he didn’t correct his father. “Sorry, Dad, can you repeat that? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said I feel like I’m livin’ in a zoo. With your wife stayin’ here and your cousin Derek and his wife coming and going like they own the place, a man can’t get any privacy.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said, trying to figure out what was so odd about his father’s complaints. “At least they’re keeping you company.”

“Have I ever asked for company? And did I mention Amber’s makin’ herself at home? She’s cleaning. I don’t need a woman keepin’ house for me. I can see my kitchen counters. I dang near forgot they were white. The shelves in the family room are dust free and I can’t find Stinky Pete’s favorite toy. He’s moping around here like he lost his manhood again.”

“His what? Never mind,” Mike said before his father could answer.

Just then it dawned on him what was bothering him about Edward. His father said the words of complaint, but he didn’t really sound as though he meant them. Could he be enjoying the company? Once again, Mike had to wonder if Amber understood his father better than Mike did.

“I may have to go back to town tomorrow to get Stinky Pete another toy,” Edward said.

Mike also opted not to ask what Stinky Pete’s toy was, figuring it was another thing he was better off not knowing. “Go back to town?” Mike asked instead. “You were there already today?” His father rarely went to town. To do so twice in one day was unheard of.

“Had to get milk and cereal for my guest.”

Mike couldn’t suppress a grin. His father, who lived alone and kept to himself, had ventured to town to make Amber’s stay more pleasant.

And again Mike had the sense Edward was simply filling Mike in on his day, not moaning about it the way he pretended to. He was enjoying the company.

“I’ll be damned,” Mike said aloud.

“The hell you will. I got enough jujus around here to spare one for you. I’ll give one to ya when you come to get your wife. When did you say that would be again?”

Mike swallowed a chuckle. “I didn’t. But I’ll be there tomorrow after work to see how things are going.”

“I’m coming!” Edward yelled. “Damn woman made me some bedtime tea. I used to know someone once who selled newfangled tea and she was no good. It’s a bad sign, I tell ya.”

Mike didn’t reply.

And Edward kept talking. “Your wife also brought me a New Age dreamcatcher. Another bad omen. She says it’ll help me keep the curse away, but last time I owned one it brought more bad luck. What do you have to say to that?” his father asked.

What the hell was a dreamcatcher and where had Amber found one? His father’s ramblings were beginning to give Mike a headache.

“It all sounds harmless, Dad. And look, it’s better than stringing up fake cats.” Or live ones. Mike left that thought unsaid.

“I gotta go drink my tea. Amber says it’ll help bring good dreams, not bad. See you tomorrow.” Edward disconnected the call, leaving Mike staring at the dead phone line.

Mike’s head spun with the information his father had given him. Amber had shown up and taken over. She was caring for his father in a way nobody had in years. It had been just a few short hours and the change in Edward was noticeable.

Mike was in shock. And he suddenly realized he had to figure out what his father really needed from other people in his life, and then to be sure he received it from now on.

He stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed. Though he tried to sleep, his mind was too full.

Of Amber.

He owed her for opening his eyes to his father’s needs.

He missed her in his bed, her soft body curled against him, her hands making him ache while he slept.

He yawned and forced his mind back to what he could handle. He owed her. And he could repay her by fixing the mess she was in with King Bobby Boyd so she could return to Las Vegas and to her own father.

Leaving Mike alone to handle his.

AMBER AWOKE to a hammering sound coming from outside her bedroom window. She immediately remembered she was at Edward’s house, but she couldn’t imagine what was causing the noise. She’d slept in her pajama pants and top, so she pulled on a hooded sweatshirt and headed to check out the source.

Once she set foot in the family room, she saw Edward peering out the window through a pulled-back curtain.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Who’s banging out there?”

“That son of a bitch Harry Winters is selling his house. The realtor putting up a For Sale sign is the one making all the racket,” Edward said.

“Who’s Harry Winters? Your neighbor?” Amber asked.

“Best damn neighbor a man could have. Want to know why? He lives alone and never bothers me. He never has company, and he’s got no family to come visit. Everything around here stays quiet. That’s why,” Edward rambled.

Amber watched his agitated state with concern. He paced back and forth, periodically glancing out at the window facing the only house nearby.

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” She tried to think of something to calm him down. “The market’s pretty slow right now. The chances of him selling quickly aren’t that good.”

He shot her a wild-eyed look. “But people will come to look at the house. They’ll look at me. They’ll talk. And then the curse will come up. I don’t want to be a freak show for people to gawk at.”

Amber lowered herself into a chair near the window, hoping to calm him down. “If you take down the jujus and the totem poles, nobody would know there’s anything here to talk about.”

“And leave myself unprotected? Have you lost your mind?” His voice rose. “Do you want to know what happens to Corwin men who aren’t careful?”

“What happens?” she asked quietly. She didn’t know if her soothing tone would relax him, but it was worth a shot.