Outfoxed (The Fox Witch #1) - R.J. Blain Page 0,18

to City Hall. I’ve even got a phone for internet, because they still maintain towers, and I’m just in range of one. You got yourself any identification?”

“I do, but it’s from the East,” I admitted. I had another two years before the card expired, and I didn’t know what I’d do at that point.

“That’ll work. I ain’t picky, and it’s not like I’m going to run your credit. What’s the point out here? You got a bank account or you run pure cash?”

“I have a bank account.” I rarely used it, but I kept the rent money in it because McCoy played it legitimate with his waitresses, and our pay went into bank accounts while we got to keep our tips in cash.

The bank had let him open the accounts for us on our behalf, skipping the paperwork that may have otherwise sunk me.

“If you can transfer the funds for your month today, you can walk out with the signed lease now. It takes about thirty minutes. The lease itself is simple; it’s standard, including inheritance clauses. The only addition is that you have to come over and visit once a month to pay the rent and have a cup of coffee with me.”

Some conditions tested my patience far more than others. “I can handle that.” I lifted my coffee in a toast to him. “Best rent conditions I’ve had since I came to the Alley.”

“I figured that might be the case. I’m Carlton Salsbury, but call me Carl.”

“I’m Jade. You have a cellar here?”

Carl nodded. “Won’t do me much good when a swarm finally blows through here, though. It’s not deep, not like the one down the way ya get when ya sign. Old men like me, we don’t need to live forever. I’ll save the livin’ forever to you young folks. I’ll enjoy the time I’ve got while I got it, and that’s that.” He gestured down a hallway. “Come along, Jade. I ain’t got all day for paperwork, so let’s get a move on. Then we can drink some more coffee, get your rent paid, and drink even more coffee.”

He probably viewed the rental as a business, but I recognized when I got a new lease on life, and I didn’t care how many times I had to shift to dig out the cellar and make the space mine.

If the cellar was even half as good as it sounded, I’d make certain no damned bounty hunter ruined things for me. They’d just have to live with their disappointment and keep dreaming about the money they might’ve made off me.

On second thought, I’d make sure Sandro caught a glimpse of me every now and then so he stuck around. My life needed a little spice, and dealing with his hot ass beat facing off against Mother Nature and her damned storms.

Three

In Tulsa, still standing barely counted as surviving.

Friday, May 1, 2043.

Tulsa, Oklahoma.

The Alley.

* * *

The instant I saw my new flop, I understood why Carl had leased it to me for a steal and had given me a flashlight and spare batteries. The home had been boarded up tighter than Fort Knox, patched time and time again as it withstood Mother Nature’s fury.

The builders had made something meant to last, and it showed. It wouldn’t survive Tulsa. Nothing would unless something changed. I still stopped and marveled that someone had built something capable of defying Mother Nature at her worst for so long.

It saddened me that the building would soon be reduced to ruin, with its storm cellar being the only thing left of realistic value. If the cellar was anything like promised, I’d be guilty of robbing Carl blind on the rent. I resumed marveling over how the patchwork home had survived the storms that had taken out every other house on the street. The roof had seen better days, but it, too, had been patched in an act of pure defiance.

In Tulsa, still standing barely counted as surviving. I’d have to decide if I’d fix where a twister had ripped off a corner of the roof and left the attic exposed to the elements. I probably would, if only to respect the tradition of defiance that had kept the structure standing for so long.

On the edge of the outskirts, nobody but me would view the place as anything other than rubble in the making or a salvage target. My nearest neighbors were a street and a half down, and their shacks sprouted from the ruins of