Rock Chick Redemption(106)

He worked himself to the bone, getting up early, working late nights. He even did it and went to footbal practice and games. In the end, he got that motorcycle.”

“Hank drives a motorcycle?” I asked.

Al y ignored my question and shared her own story.

“Yeah, I remember when Hank decided he was going to buy a house in Bonnie Brae. He wanted to be close to where he grew up and have a place in a neighborhood where he could teach his kids how to ride their bikes on the sidewalks without fear of a drive-by. Property values were out the roof; no way to buy there on a cop’s salary.

Everyone expected he’d give it up. When he found his place, it was a total dump. No one wanted it except to buy it for the lot and scrape it. Hank paid more than it was worth and fixed it up himself.”

I was kind of lost in thoughts of Hank teaching his kids to ride their bikes when Daisy said, “Earth to Roxie.”

“What?” I said.

“Why do you want to leave?” Daisy asked.

“It’s too complicated to explain,” I told her.

They al looked at each other then looked at me.

“It is!” I cried.

“Whatever,” Al y said, dismissing my life’s complications with a single word. “Are you gonna go to Frightmare with us tomorrow night?”

Good God.

“Frightmare?” I asked.

“Yeah, the Haunted House in Thornton. It is the shit,” Al y said.

“I’m not good at doing scary,” I replied, thinking I’d had enough of scary in the last week, thank you very much.

“Oh, it’s al in fun,” Indy coaxed.

I turned to Indy. “Hank told me you went berserk and broke through hay bales and they had to cal the cops. That doesn’t sound like fun.”

Al y and Indy looked at each other, then burst out laughing. They were doing it so hard they doubled over with it.

Jet, Daisy and I watched them.

They final y sobered and straightened. Al y wiped a tear from her eye and muttered, “I remember that year. Good times.”

“You’re al nuts,” I told them.

“You got that right, sister,” Jet mumbled.

“Wel , I’m going. It sounds like a hoot and you could use a few giggles, am I right, Sugar?” Daisy asked, looking at me.

She was right. Too right. Scary right.

“Okay, fine,” I gave in. “My friends Annette and Jason are in town. Can they come?”

“The more, the merrier,” Al y, clearly the Haunted House ringleader, said.

Again, I knew I was in trouble but this was a different kind of trouble.

A tal , very thin woman turned the corner at the back of the shelves, carrying an armload of books. She jerked to a halt when she saw us, obviously she’d been in her own world.

“Hi,” she said, surprise at the existence of other human beings on the earth stil on her face.