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“If you insist on that abomination.”
His smile doesn’t fool me. He’s pretending he’s okay because he wants me to be alright, but I saw his face yesterday when we found his hives destroyed. He was devastated. All I can think about is how happy he was when he first took me to meet the bees. The joy in his voice when he placed my hands on the hive to feel the warm vibration. He loved those bees. Of course, thehives can be replaced, but the thought of someone burning them as they huddled inside for warmth is such an awful thing.
He’s convinced that Handleman is the culprit, but if it’s Carl, or anyone trying to get at my money, I’ll never forgive myself for that look on his face as he watched the smoke pour from the hives. He’s had such a terrible week, losing his friend on top of everything else. Whatever he needs or wants from me today, he’s got it.
While he gets the cameras installed over at my cabin, I do a load of laundry for both of us and pack a bag for the hotel. He’s in and out most of the day, working between my cabin, the barn, and the house.
“Are you finished?” I ask, looking up from the pot of chili on the stove to see him smiling at me.
“Almost. I need to run to the gas station to fill the cans but I’m not leaving you here.”
The oven timer dings, and a pan of cornbread joins the plate of cinnamon rolls sitting nearby. “Do you want to eat first? Everything is done.”
“Absolutely, I’m starving.”
We get settled at the table with our food and he exclaims over how good the chili is. The expression on his face when I chase a bite of chili with a bite of cinnamon roll makes me giggle. “I feel judged.”
“Your feelings are valid.”
“Okay, smartass, now I’m going to have to insist you try it. How can you call yourself a Midwesterner? I’m embarrassed for you.” I pinch off a bite of cinnamon roll and hold it out to him. “Take a bite of chili first.”
“It’s kind of hot when you boss me around like that,” he teases, plucking the roll from my hand. He takes a bite of chili, then pops it into his mouth afterward. His face is inscrutable as he chews and swallows, then takes a sip of iced tea.
“Well?” Without a word, he puts a cinnamon roll on his plate beside the cornbread. A smile threatens to break through his impassive expression when my laughter rings out. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say I was right.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” He shovels in another bite.
“It’s enough thatIknow I was right, and you were wrong. And clearly,youknow I was right, and you were wrong, so there’s no need for you to make such a big deal out of it.”
“Are you about finished?” Amusement shines in his eyes and it’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen all day. Mission accomplished.
“Sure. Wait until I introduce you to peanut butter and syrup sandwiches.”
“Well, now you’re just making shit up.”
We’re both in a more upbeat mood after dinner. We make a quick run down to the gas station to fill the cans and store them in the shed.
Arlow packs his bag and calls down the stairs to me. “I’m going to take a quick shower, then we can go.”
“I’ll be ready!” I shout back. Am I ready? I take a quick walk around the house trying to see if I’ve forgotten anything. Wait? Where’s my phone?
It isn’t on the kitchen table or coffee table. Not on the charger or beside the bed. I stop and try to think back. I don’t remember taking it out of my pocket when I got back from the gas station, and if I did, I would’ve laid it down near my keys. I’ll bet it fell out of my pocket in the car.
It’s not full dark yet, but the motion light blinks on, shining the way to my car when I dash out, hoping to see my phone waiting on my console. No such luck. Did it fall between the seats?
The enormity of my stupidity sets in at the sound of a familiar voice. “You stingy bitch.” A sharp pain shoots across theback of my head as I’m jerked out of my car by my hair. My ass hits the ground, and I look up into the barrel of a gun.
The black ski mask covering his face is completely pointless since I know his voice. “Get up.” He holds up my phone. “Looking for this?”
Rage charges through me and I scramble to my feet. “You motherfucker.”
“Technically I was,” Carl chuckles as if he’s having the time of his life. “But she’s gone, and I’m broke. So, you have a choice.” He throws my phone at my feet. “Transfer the money now or die right here.”
My panicked gaze leaps to Arlow’s front door. He doesn’t even know I’m out here. My gun sits on the table in the living room. How fucking dumb can I be?
Carl glances at the house then back at me. “Stall until your boyfriend shows up and I’ll shoot him first. Transfer the fucking money now.”
My mind is working at a breakneck speed, trying to figure out what to do. I can’t let this turn into a shootout between them if Arlow comes outside. Part of me wants to call his bluff, put my phone on speaker and dial nine-one-one. Take the chance that he’ll run. The problem is I’m not sure that he’s bluffing. If he’s stupid enough to do this, to think that a million dollars could be sent to another person through a payment app just like that, as if you were paying a friend back for lunch, then he could be crazy enough to do anything.
