The Hollow - Sign Of Seven 2 Part 12

His eyes latched on to Layla.

"Maybe it's something we need to do together. We could try that. We've still got a little time now. We could-"

"Not now. Now while my parents are here in case ... of anything.

They'll both be away tomorrow, all morning." Out of harm's way, if there was any harm to be had. "At the pottery, at the stand. We'll come back tomorrow."

"Fine with me. Well, cowboy." Cybil gestured to Quinn's car. "Let's ride." She said nothing else until she and Gage were inside, pulling out ahead of Fox's truck. "What does he think might happen that he doesn't want his parents exposed to?"

"Nothing's ever happened here, or at Cal's parents' place. But, as far as we know, they've never been connected before. So who the h.e.l.l knows?"

She considered as she drove. "They're nice people."

"About the best."

"You spent a lot of time here as a boy."

"Yeah."

"G.o.d, do you ever shut up?" she demanded after a moment. "It's all talk, talk, talk with you."

"I love the sound of my own voice."

She gave it another ten seconds of silence. "Let's try another avenue.

How'd you do in the poker game?"

"Did okay. You play?"

"I've been known to."

"Are you any good?"

"I make it a policy to be good, or learn to be good, at everything I do. In fact-"

As she rounded the curve, she saw the huge black dog hunched in the middle of the road a few yards ahead. Meeting its eyes, Cybil checked the instinct to slam the brakes. "Better hang on," she said coolly, then punched the gas instead.

It leaped. A ma.s.s of black, the glint of fang and claw. The car shuddered at impact, and she fought to control it with her heart slammed in her throat. The winds.h.i.+eld exploded; the hood erupted in flame. Again, she fought the instinct to hit the brakes, spun the car hard into a tight one- eighty. She prepared to ram the dog again, but it was gone.

The winds.h.i.+eld was intact; the hood unmarred.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h, son of a b.i.t.c.h," she said, over and over.

"Turn around, and keep going, Cybil." Gage closed a hand over the one that clamped the steering wheel. It was cold, he noted, but rock steady.

"Turn the car around, and drive."

"Yeah, okay." She shuddered once, hard, then turned the car around. "So ... What was I saying before we were interrupted?" Sheer admiration for her chutzpah had a laugh rolling out of him. "You got nerve, sister. You got nerves of f.u.c.king steel."

"I don't know. I wanted to kill it. I just wanted to kill it. And, well, it's not my car, so if I wrecked it running over a d.a.m.n devil dog, it's Q's problem." And at the moment, her stomach was a quivering mess. "It was probably stupid. I couldn't see anything for a minute, when the winds.h.i.+eld ... I could've run us into a tree, or off the road into the creek."

"People who are afraid to try something stupid never get anywhere."

"I wanted to pay it back, for what it did to Layla yesterday. And that's not the sort of thing that's going to work."

"It didn't suck," Gage said after a minute.

She laughed a little, then shot him a glance and laughed some more.

"No, now that you mention it, it really didn't."

CHAPTER Seven

FOX'S FRIDAY SCHEDULE DIDN'T GIVE HIM MUCH time to think, or to brood. He went from appointment to meeting, back to appointment and into phone conference. At midafternoon, he saw a clear hour and decided to use it to take a walk around town to give his brain a rest.

Better yet, he thought, he'd walk up to the Bowl-a-Rama, grab a few minutes with Cal. He'd get a better sense of how Quinn was doing, how they were all doing if he talked with Cal.

When he stepped into reception to tell Layla, he found her talking with Cal's great-grandmother Estelle Hawkins.

"I thought we were meeting at our usual clandestine rendezvous." He walked over to kiss her soft, thin-skinned cheek. "How are we going to keep our secret affair secret?"

"It's all over town." Essie's eyes twinkled through the thick lenses of her gla.s.ses. "We might as well start living in sin openly."

"I'll go up and pack."

She laughed, swatted at him. "Before you do, I was hoping you'd have a few minutes for me. Professionally." "I've always got time for you, in any way. Come on back. Layla's going to hold my calls." He winked at her as he took Essie's arm. "In case our pa.s.sions overwhelm us."

"Should I just lock the outside door?" Layla called out as he led Essie away.

"It's a wonder you can keep your mind on your work," Essie told him as they moved into his office, "with a pretty girl like that around."

"I have Herculean power of will. Want a c.o.ke?"

"You know, I believe I would."

"Two seconds."

He got a gla.s.s, ice, poured. She was one of Fox's favorite people, and he made sure she was comfortable before he sat with her in the sitting area of his office. "Where's Ginger?" he asked, referring to Cal's cousin who lived with Essie.

"She went on to the bank before it closes. She'll be coming back for me.

This won't take long."

"What can I do for you? Want to sue somebody?"

She smiled at him. "Can't think of anything I'd like less. I wonder why people are forever suing each other."

"Blame the lawyers. Still, it's a better alternative than beating the h.e.l.l out of each other. Mostly."

"People do that, too. But I'm not here for either. It's about my will, Fox."

It gave him a little pang. She was ninety-three, and he certainly understood and appreciated the value of having your affairs well in order long before you approached Essie's age. But it still gave him a little pang to think of his world without her in it.

"I updated your will and your trust a few years ago. Do you want changes?"

"Nothing big. I have a couple pieces of jewelry I wanted to earmark for Quinn. Right now, my pearls and my aquamarine earrings are going to Frannie. She understands I want to leave them to her future daughter-in- law. I've talked to her about it. And I know I can leave it like that, I can trust her to give them to Quinn. But, as I recall, you told me it's easier on those left behind if everything's spelled out." "It generally is. I can take care of that for you." Though he trusted his memory when it came to Essie's business, Fox rose to get a legal pad and note it all down. "It won't take long to draft the change. I can bring it by for your signature on Monday if that works for you."

"That's just fine, but I don't mind coming in."

He knew she continued to go into the library nearly every day, but if he could save her a trip he'd rather. "Tell you what, when it's ready, I'll give you a call. Then we'll see which way it works best. Is there anything else you want to change, add, take out?"

"No, just those two pieces. You have everything spelled out so clearly. It gives me peace of mind, Fox."

"And if any of my grandchildren turn out to be lawyers, they can handle it for you."

Her lips curved, but her eyes stayed somber as she reached out to pat his hand. "I'd like to live to see Cal married next fall. I'd like to live through this next Seven and dance with my boy at his wedding."

"Miss Essie-"

"Wouldn't mind dancing with you at yours. And I can be greedy and say I'd like to hold Cal's firstborn in my arms. But I know that may not be.

What's coming this time is worse than all the rest."

"We won't let anything happen to you."

She let out a sigh that was full of affection. "You've seen to this town since you were ten years old. You and Cal and Gage. I'd like to live to see the day you didn't have to see to it. I'm holding out for that." She gave his hand another pat. "Now I expect Ginger will be coming along to fetch me."

He rose to help her to her feet. "I'll walk you out, wait for her."

"You just go about your business. I hope you've got something fun planned for the weekend."

"I would if you'd go out with me."

She laughed, leaning on his arm as he walked her out. "There was a day."

He stood at the window, watching as Ginger eased Essie into the car.

"She's a remarkable woman," Layla commented. "Yeah, she's something. I need you to pull her estate file. She wants a couple of changes."

"All right."

"Do you ever think we'll lose this? That we'll lose the town, ourselves, the whole d.a.m.n ball?"

She hesitated. "Don't you?"

"No." He glanced back at her. "No, I know we'll win this. But we won't all make it. Not everyone who's out there going about their business today is going to come through it."

Instead of taking his walk, Fox went back into his office. He took a copy of his own will out of the desk drawer to review it.

JUST AFTER FIVE HE WALKED HIS LAST CLIENT TO the door, then turned to Layla. "We're out of here. Grab your things. We're going bowling."

"I really don't think so, but that's a nice thought. I want to check in with Quinn."

"She's meeting us there. The whole gang's. .h.i.tting the Bowl-a-Rama. It's Friday night. Pizza, beer, and duckpins."

She thought of the quiet meal of soup she'd planned, a gla.s.s of wine and a book. "You like to bowl."

"I hate it, which is problematic seeing as one of my closest friends owns a bowling alley." He got her coat as he spoke. "But the pizza's good, and there are pinball machines. I love me some pinball. Regardless, we earned a break. From everything."

"I guess we did."

He held out her coat. "Friday night in the Hollow? The Bowl-a-Rama's the place to be."

She smiled. "Then I guess we'd better get there. Can we walk?"

"Read my mind. Figuratively speaking. I've been antsy all day." He paused after they'd stepped outside. "Pansies in the tub outside the Flower Pot and see there? That's Eric Moore, clean-shaven. He shaves off his winter beard every March. Spring's coming."

He took her hand as they hit the sidewalk. "Do you know what I love as much as pinball and pizza?"

"What?" "Taking a walk with a pretty girl."

She aimed a look at him. "Your mood's improved."

"Antic.i.p.ation of pizza does that for me."

"No, I mean it."

He shot a wave at someone across the street. "I wallowed some. I need a good wallow once in a while, then I sc.r.a.pe it off."

"How?"

"By remembering we all do what we do. By reminding myself I believe good mostly wins out in the long run. Sometimes the long run's a b.i.t.c.h, but good mostly wins out."

"You're cheering me up."

"Good. That was the plan."