Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

I listened to Max and Poppy talking while I cut the potatoes in half, scooped out their insides, and was lavish with the sour cream and butter I mixed into them before I stuffed them back into their shells. Then I got the good cheddar I'd bought and grated it over the halves—eight of them because twice-baked potatoes were great as leftovers—glad I'd made enough for the next two days because that meant there was more than enough for Max to stay tonight.

I heard him say that Maggs had been catching game for him—mice? Really?—and thought, No wonder he's so thin. He was like William, so skinny when Poppy had brought him home, and now the Maine Coon was the Beast on the Upper Shelf, glaring down at all of us. We could do the same for Max, put some meat on those bones, some weight?—

I caught myself thinking about Max's weight on top of me—that's a dumb fantasy, I probably couldn't breathe if he were on top of me, he was thin but broad—and looked down to see that I'd overdone the grated cheese. Although really, there is no such thing as too much cheese so it was fine.

Then Poppy had to mention Junior, which caused a sudden change in Max. It was startling how fast he went from the kinder, less scary Max back to Grim Bastard. He asked what happened and she told him. He didn't seem surprised about Mrs. Baumgarten tasing Junior. More thoughtful.

He probably wouldn't have batted an eye when she pulled out her taser.

"What do you think they did with him?" Poppy asked.

"Probably took him to Pike," Max said.

I put the pan back in the oven as Max stood up. "Really, you're invited to dinner," I said.

He started to say, "You don't have to?—"

I said, "I really want to," and Poppy said, "Don't argue with her, she always wins and the food will be great."

The "always wins" part was a lie; Poppy usually wins.

Max shrugged. "Hard to top that lasagna."

I smiled at him. "You ain't seen nothin' yet," and turned to get the steaks out of the fridge.

He came up behind me, not touching me, and said, low in my ear, "We need to talk after dinner."

I damn near came on the spot. Coral would be so proud.

Then I registered what he'd said. Why is it that "we need to talk" is never good? It's never "We need to talk, you just won the lottery," or "We need to talk, you're getting a raise," or "We need to talk, I think we should have great, headbanging, kinda rough sex?—"

Yeah, it's never stuff like that.

But it did feel really good to have him close behind me. Which was odd because usually I move away from people unless I'm trying to pickpocket them. But this was nice, him standing close, growling in my ear. Cozy. Warm. Hot.

Oh, my God.

I fought the urge to press against him and turned around with the pan of steaks, now nicely marinated. "Absolutely."

He stepped back.

I have to work on my moves. He still looked grim, so whatever he wanted to talk about, it wasn't sex. Selfish Day had just hit a wall .

He went back to talking to Poppy, and I broiled the steaks—rare; we don't ruin good meat—while the cheese on the potatoes melted underneath, and then Poppy served salad, and I got the potatoes plated, and we ate. Lavishly. Dinner was actually fun, mostly Poppy asking questions about Maggs and the Trail, but they were easy together, Max somehow treating her like an adult but clearly thinking of her as a child, trying to amuse her, keep her entertained and reassured.

I should have run away with him twenty years ago. He'd be a great dad.

Of course, twenty years ago he'd probably been in some far-off jungle, shooting somebody, so it would never have happened. Our paths would never have crossed.

Well, they were crossed now.

Poppy got up to check on Maggs one more time before she offered to help with the dishes, but Max was looking serious again, so when we had the table cleared and the dishes were soaking, I sent her upstairs to finish her homework. She went without protest, so she knew something was up.

When she was gone, I sat down at the table. "So. Talk."

He sat down across from me. "I have questions."

I snorted. " You have questions. I know absolutely nothing about you, and you're sleeping across the hall from me. I learned some stuff last night, so I have questions, too."

"I slept across the hall from you. One night. And then I left."

So he wasn't staying the night. Damn. "Then why did you come back? Was it just Maggs?"

Max shook his head. "What is going on in this town?"

"I don't know all of it." I sat back. "Ozzie was paranoid about keeping a low profile, and some of my friends have skills I was not expecting, and evidently about 10 percent of the population is retired from interesting careers, but I don't have many details. I mean, it's odd that Ozzie and Pike ran this town as unofficial sheriffs, but it worked, and we're a small town in the middle of nowhere, so I figured . . ." I shrugged, not sure what I'd figured. Maybe I'd just figured what I didn't know couldn't hurt me. That sounded like me.

Of course, now that I knew that Coral had killed her first man at fifteen, and Lian had dropped the CIA on me, and Betty had tased Junior, it was all getting clearer.

"A lot of the people in this town have backgrounds in covert ops," Max said. "Oz was one of them. Pike's another."

I nodded. "Coral. Betty Baumgarten. Melissa Merriweather." Lian.

"What do you know about Luke Granger?"

"Darius's father? Good guy. Coaches football at Bearton. Runs a successful carpentry business. Makes beautiful furniture. Raising a great kid . . ." Wait. "Him, too?"

Max nodded.

It made sense. Luke exuded the same sort of calm competence that Max and Ozzie and Pike did.

"And what are you?" Max said.

"Me?"

"Why are you stuck in this town, Rose? Were you covert ops, too?"

I pulled back. "You're kidding, right? What about me screams ‘trained to kill'?"

"The Maltese Falcon?" He half smiled. "Okay, I didn't think so, but if not, why stay? What are you running from?"

"Nothing!" I said brightly, possibly too brightly.

"I need to know, Rose," he said, staring into my eyes. "I need all the information I can get to get us all out of this."

"Us?" I said. "We're an ‘us' now?"

"I'm staying until we figure this out."

"Oh," I said, my feelings merging into a terror-lust-gratitude maelstrom.

"Why are you stuck in this town?" Max said.

I took a deep breath. "I may be on the run from the law."