Dana Mentink - Flashover

Tim nodded, his pulse quickening. The image matched the description Madge had given them.

“He asked me for a job several months back, but I couldn’t accommodate him. Why?”

“He’s a friend of a friend. We were told he worked here.”

“No, I didn’t hire him. I had no contact with him after that one encounter.”

Tim hid his disappointment. “Okay. Thanks anyway.”

Ivy paid for her purchases and they left the cool of the bookstore, practically running into Mitch. He jerked backward.

“Oh, hi, guys.”

“Hey, Mitch.” Tim noted the weary lines painted on his wide face and felt a tingle of alarm. “Did you have a rough shift? You look beat.”

“Shift? No. I’m off for a few days.”

Ivy clicked her tongue. “Taking time off isn’t going to get you closer to that boat you’re after. You need all the overtime you can get.”

His brow furrowed. “Who made you my mother?”

Tim blinked at Mitch’s tone. “Easy, man. She was just teasing.”

He gave a half laugh. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

“How about we all three go get some ice cream?” Tim gestured to Ivy. “We’ve gotta keep this girl out of trouble.”

“No, I can’t.” Mitch said. “I’ve gotta run.”

Tim tried to read his expression, to see if he was telling the truth, hating the suspicion that clouded his mind. He wished he wasn’t burdened by knowing Mitch’s secret. “Where are you headed?”

“Me?” He looked momentarily disoriented. “Oh, just out for a jog. Catch you later.”

Tim and Ivy walked the rest of the block and ordered ice-cream sundaes, settling at a table by the window to enjoy their treat.

He watched her dive into the sundae, her face as eager as a little girl’s. The image tugged at his insides.

Ivy took a spoonful of whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. “Do you think Mitch is acting funny?”

“Maybe.” Tim tried to focus on his black-and-tan sundae, willing her not to ask him anything else. Above all things, he did not want to lie to Ivy.

“Maybe?” She looked closer at him. “Tim? Do you have some idea of what’s bothering my cousin?”

“Oh, me? It’s not—” He broke off as her attention was riveted to a spot on the sidewalk outside. “What’s wrong, Ivy?”

The untouched cream dripped from the spoon suspended in her fingers. “That man. I’ve seen him before.”

Tim looked in the direction of her stare. A big man with blond hair ambled along the sidewalk. He paused for a moment, long enough to sweep his gaze across the window of the ice-cream shop. His eyes rested on the two as they stared back at him. Something in the way he looked at Ivy pricked at Tim. “Who is he?”

Ivy slowly put her spoon down. “I don’t know, but he sat next to me at your basketball game last night. I’ve got a funny feeling.”

“What kind of funny feeling?”

“I wonder…Oh, I don’t know.”

“What?” he prodded.

“I wondered for a second if he was the guy who tried to take my purse.”

Tim got up and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to talk to him. No harm in that.”

“No, Tim. Don’t.”

Tim ignored her and headed out of the shop. By the time he made it to the sidewalk, the man had already hurried away. He tried not to let his concern show as he returned to the table.

Ivy toyed with her spoon. “Maybe I was mistaken. It was dark and I never saw the purse snatcher’s face.”

“Maybe.” An uneasy sensation took root in Tim’s gut. Maybe not.

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