The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,18
a teen. Kids came into juvie walking like that, like they were tough shit. The first time the lights went out, though, they learned things were different, and they didn’t carry themselves like that anymore.
“Hi, guys,” Jem said. “Beautiful day, right?”
“Can we help you guys with something?”
“We’re just here to do some necking,” Jem said. “And maybe some heavy petting if we have time.”
The guys made identical, straight-guy revulsion faces at each other.
“This is a nice street,” one of the guys said.
“This is a nice place for families,” the other guy said.
“Hold on, hold on,” Jem said, flashing a smile. “Before you run me out of town, we’re here to help Hannah and Caleb with something. We’re not creepers, ok? If you don’t believe me, just ask them.”
The men exchanged a long look. The first one said, “Wait here.” The second one nodded, leaning against the Ford’s door, obviously still trying to look tough.
“You ever have to do any edging?” Jem asked the guy who had stayed with the truck. “Like, along the sidewalk?”
The guy snorted. “Every week.”
Across the street, his buddy was at Hannah and Caleb’s front door, talking to Caleb. Caleb looked stiff as a scarecrow, and he was speaking in what looked like short, sharp sentences. After a minute of that, the guy turned around and came back. He didn’t even make it all the way to the truck; he just nodded and waved, and his buddy pushed off from the Ford’s door.
“I hated edging,” Jem told him. “Worst fucking chore of the week.”
“Watch your mouth,” the guy said as he walked away. “There are kids out here.”
Jem grinned and gave him double thumbs up.
“Will you stop antagonizing him?” Tean asked, pushing his hands down.
“What? Edging sucks ass.”
Tean groaned.
“So, that’s really interesting, right?” Jem said.
“What?”
“The fact that the Utah Gun-Loving Bros Association made a personal visit when we’d been here for less than fifteen minutes.”
“It’s interesting that for some reason you think you’re charming but still manage to make people want to shoot us.”
“There’s no way that somebody has been sitting out here watching Hannah’s house.”
Tean was quiet for a moment. “Unless it was someone who had a reason to be here.”
“Like someone on the street? You think one of her neighbors is following her?”
“Maybe.” He hesitated and frowned. “Crypsis.”
“Blade.”
“What?”
“I thought we were naming sexy vampires.”
“Why would we—never mind.”
“Lestat.”
“Crypsis is—”
“Edward Cullen.”
“Will you cut it out?” When Jem held up his hands in surrender, Tean said, “Crypsis is the term for—”
“Angel. Sorry, that’s the last one, but I couldn’t leave him out.”
Tean took a deep breath. “Crypsis is the term for an animal’s ability to avoid detection or observation.”
“Like a chameleon.”
“Yes, camouflage like that is one example. But it can also be behavioral—nocturnal activity is a form of crypsis, and so is subterranean activity, or mimicry. Some species of squirrels will actually rub themselves with snakeskins to disguise their scent. And the red knot, a sandpiper, alters the chemical composition of its preen waxes to hide from predators. I thought you’d appreciate that because of all the wax you put in your hair.”
“I’m going to ignore that because having a bird preen your hair would actually be an improvement.” Jem thought for a moment. “Is it like when one animal looks like its surroundings so it’s hard to see?”
“Yes, exactly. So maybe we’re dealing with a case of crypsis. Someone who looks like they had business on this street, or someone who people have a special reason to trust: a gas company employee reading meters, someone in a bright orange vest marking property lines for the county assessor, a cable technician—”
“A Mormon missionary,” Jem said. “It can’t be that hard to get one of those little tags they wear on their shirts.”
Tean frowned. “Why a missionary?”
“I don’t know. It just popped into my head.”
“There would have to be two of them.”
“Why?”
“Have you ever seen one by himself? Or herself?”
“I guess not.”
“And I think Hannah would have noticed if they were dressed in white shirts and ties.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. They’re kind of like background noise out here.”
Tean frowned some more. He had little frown lines that looked like parentheses on both sides of his mouth.
So Jem told him.
“What?” Tean said.
“They’re adorable. Like parentheses. You know?” Jem traced the shape in the air.
“I know what a parenthesis is.”
“You acted like you didn’t. Hey, maybe you should do some frowning on all of these hot dates you’re going on. I bet those guys would like your frown lines.”