Page 1 of For Fox Sake

Chapter One

Ryan

“But why?”

Twenty-seven. That’s twenty-seven times Ari has asked me why? since this morning.

It started as soon as she opened her eyes.

Why can’t I go with you to work?

Why do we have cereal for breakfast? Why can’t I have pizza?

Why do I have two eyes if I can only see one thing?

“Because you’ve worn your superhero cape for three days straight. It’s covered in dirt and old food and every germ known to humankind. We’re going into a place where they sell food, which means we have to be clean so dirt doesn’t get on all the stuff people are gonna eat.” The parking lot is clear of traffic as I grip Ari’s hand tighter and cross to the store entrance.

She’s silent for two whole seconds before saying, “But the rest of me isn’t clean either.”

Sighing, I release her sticky hand to grab a cart. She’s not wrong. This round goes to the five-year-old for an unerring sense of logic that exists only when it’s the least useful for me.

Her ruffled pink skirt is speckled with red and yellow paint. Pale blue streaks haphazardly across her white shirt. The perfectly styled braids I wove into her hair this morning have worked free, and blond curls riot around her face. Her mouth is surrounded by some of the same pale blue substance from her shirt, tinted with grayish grime. That’s what happens when you feed a child ice pops before they play outside in the dirt.

“Just don’t touch anything.”

“But—”

My purse vibrates. “Hold on.”

Saved by the bell, or some disaster, more likely. But whatever. It’s an opportunity to distract us both from this no-win conversation.

I lift my phone out of my purse with one hand, pushing the cart forward with the other. We stop just inside the door, moving to the side to let a couple behind us pass.

The caller ID flashes. It’s Priscilla. Crap.

I swipe my thumb across the screen. “Hey. Everything all right?”

“Where are you?” Pricilla asks.

“BountiDull Foods.” When you live in a town named Dull, the puns are both frequent and terrible. “What’s going on?”

“Uh, so, one of the last renters left a little something behind.”

“What is it?”

“Crabs.”

Ari stares up at me and frowns at my expression. “Momma?”

My brain stalls out for a second. Crabs? “Crabs? Live crabs?”

“You wouldn’t freaking believe it. I opened the fridge and there they were, free-roaming like they owned the place.”

Dull is only an hour from a prime crab-catching area along the Tillamook. We get a lot of renters here for that kind of thing, but no one has ever left their live catch behind before.

“Are you fu—uh, kidding me?”

Thankfully Ari’s not paying attention. She’s waving at someone deeper into the store, toward the apple bins.

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