“Instead of playing Nancy Drew, maybe you could take up knitting.” Natalie swallowed the last of the coffee. No, wait—those knitting needles could be deadly in a mentally unstable, pregnant woman’s hands. “On second thought, have you considered sculpting with Play-Doh? I bet you could make some amazing Michelangelo re-creations.”
“If I take up any hobby, it’s going to be knife throwing.”
Natalie started to laugh, but then realized Kate was serious. The sound that came out of her mouth was more like a gasping hiccup. “Are you planning to join the circus or something?”
“Or something,” Kate answered with a wink. Or was that an eye twitch?
Bananapants! “Does Butch know you’re loose?”
“I left him chained to the bed. Come on, we have Prickly Pear Posse work to do.” She held open the door, motioning for Natalie to hurry up.
Damn it, where was Ronnie? And how come Butch hadn’t locked Kate in the basement after last night’s wet-n-wild floorshow?
After grabbing her phone and wallet from the counter, along with the spare key, Natalie followed Kate outside into the cold morning. The sun was peeking above the Tres Dedos Mountains to the east—at least Natalie thought that was the name Mac had called them the other day.
She watched Kate lock the Winnebago door and pocket the key before grabbing Henry’s leash and tugging on the dog to follow her.
“Hold up!” Natalie checked her pocket and the hiding spot under the wheel well. Both keys were still there. “Where’d you get that key to Gramps’s Winnebago? I thought there were only two.”
“That’s not important.” Kate grabbed Natalie by the wrist and dragged her over to the gravel drive. “We have a job to do.”
Natalie yawned. “What’s the damned rush and who put you in charge of playing drill instructor?”
“I’ll explain when we’re safe from eavesdroppers.”
What eavesdroppers? The RVs all around them were dark. Hell, the birds were just stumbling out of their nests, the sleep still blurring their eyes.
As they passed the restroom building, a copper-haired dame with long colt-like legs rushed out of the men’s bathroom door wearing nothing but a short satin robe and high-heeled slippers.
A little cold for lingerie this morning, wasn’t it? Natalie smiled and nodded. The poor woman must have forgotten her reading glasses along with her flannel pajamas.
Seconds later, the men’s room door opened again. Old Man Harvey stepped out, wearing jeans, yellow suspenders over his half-tucked in shirt, and a randy grin.
“Mornin’, sidewinders,” he said. “What has your tails shakin’ this early?”
“Harvey!” Natalie slid to a stop, glancing back to make sure the hubba-hubba was out of earshot. “What were you doing in there?”
He walked over to her. “Givin’ sexy Red some guitar lessons on the sly.” He wiggled his bushy eyebrows.
Natalie scowled at him. “Jeez! In a public bathroom?”
Kate waited a few feet ahead of them. “What does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Natalie frowned at the horny old goat. “What were you thinking?”
“I was enjoyin’ the music.” He wrapped his thumbs in his suspenders and rocked back on his heels. “Red plays one hell of a flute solo.”
“I thought you said guitar lessons,” Kate said.
Natalie groaned. “This is a family-friendly campground. Next time, enjoy your horizontal polka dancing in the privacy of your fifth wheel.”
“Polka is more fun when you’re vertical, although my left knee will go on me if I’m not careful. Besides, I’m banned from my own barracks.”
“By whom?”
“Coop said he’d shoot me if I had hip relations in the camper this week.”
“And you believed him?”
“The boy is spoonin’ with his Colt .45 on the pullout couch. There’s no sneakin’ past that law dog when he’s guardin’ the door.”
Lucky Coop. Better a Colt .45 than Gramps’s slobbery dog. Then again, squeezing Henry in her sleep wouldn’t leave her with a bullet hole.
“Natalie, we have to go.” Kate grabbed Natalie’s elbow, propelling her along.
Harvey rushed along with them toward the General Store. “What’s all the hustle and bustle about this mornin’? You two tryin’ to catch yesterday?”
Natalie thumbed in her cousin’s direction. “Kate has some nutty wild hair.”
“Don’t call me crazy!” Kate snapped.
“Officially, I didn’t say the C-word, so can it, Star-Kist.” She glanced at Harvey. “What are you and Coop planning to do today?” She tried to sound curious instead of obsessed, pretending the image of Coop sprawled out on the couch bed wasn’t burnt into her brain now.
What was he sleeping in these days, anyway? Months ago, Coop had been “babysitting” Violet when she’d been put on his version of house arrest. Natalie had stayed over one night, too, finding him in the kitchen the next morning in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants and bare skin. Well, bare under all of his scars. Coop seemed to be a magnet for sharp and pointy weapons, along with bullets.
Harvey shrugged. “Well, bein’ it’s New Year’s Eve, I’m thinkin’ on headin’ into town to get some liquor to celebrate, maybe checkin’ on Red later to see if she wants to blow my horn.” He snickered at her loud groan. “What about you?”
“Since Kate here is dragging me to Yuccaville at this ungodly hour for some mysterious reason, I’m thinking I might be spending the day in jail again.”
“We are not going to end up in jail,” Kate said. “Not this time.” She looked away and mumbled something.
“Did you just add ‘I hope’ to the end of that?”
“Of course not.”
“Her fingers are crossed,” Harvey pointed out with a laugh. “Ya want some help not ending up in jail? I could use a ride to the liquor store.”
Good idea, Natalie thought. If Harvey were with them, she’d have bait to lure Coop to come spring them again.
“You’re on. You need to grab anything back at the camper?”
“Let’s see. Spectacles, testicles, wallet, watch,” he chanted as he patted his forehead, then pants zipper, and then the right side of his chest and left. When he finished his routine, he nodded. “I’m ready to go to town.”
“It sounds like you already did back in the bathroom,”
