Astounded, I stared at the door as it swung shut. That little bastard. How dare he come into my shop, break my merchandise, and proceed to treat me like dirt! I leaned against the counter and tried to shake off my anger, studiously avoiding the questioning glances. Just then, Lana popped through the front door and I motioned to her.
“Take over here, please. I need a break, and I need it now.”
I slipped into the bathroom, washed my hands and splashed some cold water on my face. As I stared at myself in the mirror, I felt a wave of doubt rise up. Could anything he’d said be true? But then, reality took hold and I shook it off. I just needed some lunch and a quiet moment in which to regroup. I headed to the tearoom for a cup of soup and a sandwich when Jimbo wandered in.
“Hey, O’Brien, gotta minute?”
I flashed Jimbo a tired smile. “For you? Maybe even five. I’ve had the most horrendous morning. Have lunch with me?”
Jimbo grunted and selected two sandwiches and an assortment of cookies. He swung one leg over the back of the chair and stuffed his mouth with turkey and pastrami. I ladled out a bowl of soup and slid into the chair next to him, launching into a diatribe as I vented my frustration over the morning.
After a moment, I realized that my voice was a little loud. “Ugh, I’ll finish telling you later. What’s up?”
The shop bells tinkled as he stuffed the last bite of his second sandwich into his mouth, followed it with a swig of raspberry tea, and licked his fingers. He tossed a ten-spot on the table. “Good grub. I just wanted to make sure you remembered how to get to my place. Scar’s still missing.” His eyes flickered with worry.
I’d been out to Jimbo’s a couple times during the summer, mainly to ferry the kids for a swim in Miner’s Lake. “Yeah, I remember how to get there, but why don’t you draw a map so I can give it to Murray. I’m not sure if she knows and I go by landmarks, rather than street names.”
Jimbo looked like he was about to say something, then grabbed a napkin and sketched out rough directions on it. “She should be able to understand these.” He bit into a gingersnap and then held it out, looking at it with a critical eye. “Not bad, not bad. You set a good spread at this joint, I’ll give you that. So, you read up on the Klakatat Monster?”
“Murray told me a little about it. Like Sasquatch, but more unpredictable.”
“And a damned sight more dangerous. Did you know that according to local legend, this thing has racked up over fifteen deaths since when the prospectors first settled near Goldbar Creek? The creek runs out of the valley and feeds directly into Miner’s Lake.” He drew a map with his finger along the table. “Way I figure it, is the creature’s coming down from Klickavail Mountain. That’s supposed to be its home.”
A flicker crossed his eyes and I noticed that he was sweating. Just a few beads of perspiration dampened his forehead, but it was enough to make me nervous. If Jimbo was scared of this thing, then I really didn’t want to get close enough to shake hands. That is, if it actually existed.
“I didn’t know all that. What do the authorities say about it?”
“Authorities-schmorities. What do you think they say? Cougar death, or bear mauling. Well, that happens now and again, but the cougars and bears around here are more afraid of us than we are of them. They don’t use people as chew toys and then leave them for dead. If they kill it’s for food, or because some idiot gets between them and their cubs.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Okay, see you tomorrow. Remember, you promised fried chicken. And make enough so I can take some home for the kids.”
Jimbo pushed back his chair. “Sure thing, O’Brien.”
“Can I come along, Emerald? This would be the perfect chance to see you in action!” George stepped out from a corner where he had been eavesdropping on our conversation.
I stared at him, astonished first by the fact that he’d returned, and second, that he had the gall to try to invite himself along after I’d kicked him out.
“I forgot my video camera,” he added.
No longer caring if anybody overheard, I exploded. “I thought I told you to leave! Didn’t your mother teach you to behave better than this? Jimbo and I were having a private conversation. You have no business asking to go along. In fact, you’ve got no business ever darkening the door of my shop again! I want you out of here.”
Both Jimbo and George stared at me; Jimbo’s eyes were twinkling.
George snorted. “Man, you really turned out to be a bitch. I thought we were going to be friends, but you’re such a tight-ass that now I wouldn’t work for you if you got down on your knees and begged me to.”
“If anybody’s getting down on their knees, it’s gonna be you, dude.” Jimbo stepped in between us, tapping George on the shoulder. “The lady wants you to leave. If I were you, I wouldn’t make her mad. I’ve seen her in action. She’s scary.” He pulled himself up to his full height. “And I’m scarier.”
George stared up at Jimbo, who towered over him by a good seven or eight inches and outweighed him by at least seventy pounds. “Uh . . . uh . . . I’m leaving, okay? I just have to get my gear.”
“You stay here. I’ll get it,” I broke in. “I don’t want you trashing anything else on your way out.” I headed into the back room and Jimbo followed me, to give me a hand. He lugged the metal case to the front door and dumped it on the sidewalk. George flashed me an odd smirk as he picked up his camera case and headed toward a brand-new BMW convertible. The kid wasn’t hurting for money. Probably had rich folks, because you sure didn’t make that kind of dough on an intern’s salary.
George screeched out of the parking space and down the street. Jimbo said, “He’s a little weasel. Be careful, he’s the type to hold a grudge.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think you’re spot on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As the biker ambled down the sidewalk, it struck me that on one hand, there was George, who passed for a nice, well-situated young man until he opened his mouth. On the other hand, there was Jimbo, a rough-and-ready biker who looked dangerous but had turned out to be as good-hearted as he was rough around the edges. Books and covers, I thought.
I returned to the tea room, searching for the instructions to Jimbo’s house. The paper was resting on the floor, beneath the table, and as I reached down to get it, a prickle of energy rushed up my arm. Maybe we weren’t off on a wild goose chase after all.