Page 69 of The Pretenders of Copper County
“Charcuteries,” I mumbled.
“Charcuteries,” Knox confirmed. “Thank you. That’s the word.”
“Ohhhh,” Gage said. “Right, right! The quiet one. Keeps to himself a lot. Sweet, but kinda… I don’t know ifboringis the right word, exactly, but… well, boring. Except for the Ale-pocalypse.” He snickered. “That was a hoot. Anyway, I guess that’s the guy. He hasn’t been around, and the last time anyone saw him was?—”
“Are you serious right now?” I exclaimed, standing up again. One of the most gorgeous, quirky, sweet, intelligent, and genuinely funny men on the planet had lived in the Hollow for half a year, andthatwas what they remembered about him? How the hell had they gotten the idea that he wasquiet?
When Chris said he hadn’t fit in the Hollow, I’d thought he was being modest. I couldn’t imagine anyone notliking him—hell, even when I’dtriednot to like him, I couldn’t help it, and God knew every woman, child, andmanin Copper County had adored Chris at first glance. But from what Gage was saying, he truly hadn’t fit there any better than I did.
Boring?Chris? Good Christ. If the man were any more exciting, my heart couldn’t handle it.
“Calm down, Reed,” Knox said, misunderstanding the reason for my outburst. “The fact is, Chris might have left of his own free will—nobody in town knows him well enough to say for sure except Van, and Van’s gone camping. Norm claims he saw someone get in your car and that you peeled off… but since Norm was about four pints deep at the time and had already done his ‘in beer, there’s freedom’ schtick, nobody’s paying attention. And nobody has tossed around the wordfelony,” he added, “except Goodman, here. You know how some people in town love drama?—”
“I do not love drama!” Gage insisted. After a second, he admitted, “I mightlikedrama. Drama and I aredating. But we’re not in a committed relationship or anything. Nobody’s using the L-word.”
“Thank you for clarifying, baby,” Knox said. “Anyway, Reed, I—we—figured there’d be no harm in contacting you to see if you had any information that could clear this up. I don’t suppose you happened to give him a ride somewhere or if he mentioned where he might be heading?—?”
“Or kidnapped him and stuffed him in your trunk because you suspected him of crimes?” Gage teased.
“For fuck’s sake, Goodman,” Knox said witheringly.
“What? It happened in season five ofJohn Ruffian: Pretender. There werethese vigilantes, and… Okay, okay. Yeesh. Stop with the look. Reed knows I’m kidding,” he protested. “You know I’m kidding, Reed, right?”
I couldn’t respond right away. What the hell was I supposed to tell them? More lies, obviously. My Great Wall of Lies was already big enough to be seen from outer space. What were a few more?
I gritted my teeth and started with a truth. “I didn’t kidnap anyone.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Knox said.
“What happened was…” I began slowly, hoping for inspiration or, ideally, an interruption.
But when my deliverance came, it was in the worst possible form.
“Mr. Sunday!” a familiar voice called from way too close by. “Hey, Mr. Sunday! How’s your husband doing?”
I turned and saw Derry Bartlett, aka Mini-Watt, bearing down on me, wearing a huge, goofy smile and a Camden-O’Leary High School Hockey sweatshirt.
Shit. Had my brother heard?
“Knox?” Gage whisper-shouted. “Knox, did he just sayhusband? As inReed’s husband?”
“I think he did,” Knox said grimly, removing all doubt.
“I swear to God, iftwoof your brothers get married before we do, Knox?—”
Summoning a smile for Derry, I tried to tune the others out. “Uh. He’s good. Much better. Thanks for asking. Hey, now’s not a great time—” I gestured with my cell.
“Oh, sure,” Derry agreed easily. “I get it. Just please tell Chris we’re thinking about him, okay?”
“Chris!” Gage hissed. “Chris, as in?—”
“Yeah,” Knox said. “I know.”
I closed my eyes briefly. “Yeah, I’ll, ah… let him know.Thanks again,” I said, trying to subtly conveyGo awaywithout actually hurting the kid’s feelings.
But Derry was as impervious to subtlety as his father. He rocked up and down on the balls of his feet, still grinning. “So, my dad said you’re doing an awesome job renovating the cabins. Let me know if you need any help with the construction, okay?”
“Will do,” I said. “But I think we’re good.”
