Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,57

know lots of words, too,” Harlan said. “That doesn’t mean I have to use them. But that’s the secret reason I’m not a jerk. Don’t want to be somebody’s conversation piece. Hey, man,” he told the driver, who was youngish, blonde, and Scandinavian-stocky. “They get you out on Super Bowl Sunday, huh?” Then he slung his duffel and somebody’s purple suitcase into the trunk. Dyma’s, he was willing to bet. Jennifer would have a black suitcase.

The guy said, “Yes, sir,” and reached for the other bags, but Owen already had them.

“We’re headed over to Bismarck Century,” Harlan told the driver. “With a stop at the AT&T store first. Coming back here afterwards to fly out again, and it’d be real good if you’d hang around in case I need to make a quick getaway. There’s going to be some tailgating, then everybody’s watching the game in the gym. Stick close, OK? You like bratwurst?”

“Yes, sir,” the guy said again, holding the door as they climbed in.

“The name’s Harlan, and this is Owen. The ladies are Jennifer and Dyma. If you’re going to hang with us, you can’t be calling me ‘sir.’ I’m not going to know who you’re talking to. I’d better know your name, too.”

“Lincoln,” the driver said. “Linc. Sure, I can hang around.”

“You play any ball, Linc? You got the size for it.” Harlan said as the SUV swung out of a nearly deserted airport—well, there you were, Super Bowl Sunday—and onto the main road.

“High school,” the driver said. “North Prairie.”

“Nine man,” Harlan said. “Hundred-yard field?”

“Yes, s— Uh, yeah.”

“You’ll be a runner, then.” Harlan told Jennifer, “You’re going to be doing more running with nine men on the field.”

“Nah,” Linc said. “I’m not much of a runner. Offensive line.”

“Ah,” Harlan said. “Which means you’d be a whole lot happier if Owen was the one sitting up here.” He could see the driver smiling a little in the rear-view mirror, so he’d guessed right. He went on, “I always think a good lineman’s kind of like a sergeant in the army. Everybody thinks the officer’s the one calling the shots, but every officer’d tell you it’s the sergeant who gets it done.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver said, and this time, Harlan just smiled and didn’t correct him.

Harlan was quiet, then, and Linc drove and got discreet. At the mall, he pulled right up to the entrance and said, “Call when you’re done. I’m figuring it’ll be a while.”

“Nope,” Harlan said. “I called ahead.”

He was right. Fifteen minutes later, he was climbing back into the car again. Sometimes, there were benefits to being well known.

Linc took off again, and Jennifer said, “So you’re saying I might not see the end of the game.”

“Do you want to see the end of the game?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“I kinda thought you already did. Except that if you’ve lived in that town all your life, I guess it wasn’t much of a secret.”

“No, it wasn’t. Here’s the real secret. I’m not much of a football fan. Don’t tell Blake.”

He gave a shout of laughter, then sobered and said, “Oh. It’s because of what happened. With … whoever.”

“Who, Danny? Maybe. Mostly, I just don’t care. Everybody gets so passionate, and I think—hey, I’m not the one playing, so why should I care? They’re not watching me do my thing and cheering about it, so why should I give them my Sunday?”

“So what do you watch?” he asked. “Or what do you play?”

She laughed. “How about nothing? Well, I like to swim. I like that a lot, even though I can only do it in the summer. I like to hike some, as long as it’s not some death march carrying an enormous backpack. Call it ‘strolling in the woods,’ maybe. I like going out on the lake on a boat, even if it’s a kayak and I actually have to work for it. Not that I get to do it much. I used to think I enjoyed catching a glimpse of wildlife. I’m rethinking that part.”

She looked out the car window at a whole lot of nothing. Snow-covered land flat as a pancake, a divided road with nobody on it, and a few low buildings looking lonely and bleak against a gray sky. A Jack in the Box, an Arby’s. “But if I’m going to spend my time watching something,” she went on after a minute, “I want to watch a movie, with a story about people. Or maybe a play. I think. Plays