Shanna Swendson - Don't Hex with Texas

Dean.” I looked over at Nita. “Can I get a ride home?”

“No problem. That just keeps me out later, which is okay with me. Too bad there aren’t any bars in town so we could make it a real girls’ night out.”

“We both have early mornings tomorrow,” I reminded her, “and seeing as we both snoozed a little during the movie, I don’t think we’re up for a late night. Besides, your mom would kill you if you went out drinking, and then she’d be convinced I led you to your ruin.”

“I have got to get away from here. I’m too young to act like a senior citizen. Well, come on, let’s go.”

When we were back in her car, I said, “Drive by Dean’s house first. It will make life easier if I can pick the truck up now.” But the truck wasn’t there, just Sherri and Dean’s cars. It looked like Dean had started and then forgotten some kind of ambitious building project on the front of the house, which might explain why Sherri was peeved at him. “Oh well, never mind. I guess you’ll have to take me home. I wonder where Dean is.”

The truck was parked in the driveway at my parents’ house, which wasn’t a huge surprise. Dean ran straight home every time he and Sherri had a fight. Nita glanced over at me and said, “We’ve got empty rooms at the motel if you need a place to hide.”

I unbuckled my seat belt. “Thanks for the offer, but this shouldn’t be too bad. I’ll just go to my room and ignore it all. And thanks for the night out—it was fun.”

“No, it wasn’t really what I’d call fun, but it was about as close as you can get around here, and thanks for coming along. See you soon!”

I got inside to find Dean sitting at the kitchen table, being consoled by Mom with various pastries.

“Someday she’ll learn to appreciate all the things you have to offer her,” Mom was saying as I crept through the kitchen. The only time Mom ever said anything against Sherri was when Dean and Sherri were fighting, which meant I got to hear Mom criticize Sherri at least once a month.

“’Night, everyone!” I said casually once I was safely in the living room.

“Did you have a good time at the movies?” Mom asked.

“Just fabulous. And how did you know?”

“I saw you heading over there after you left the café,” Dean admitted. In other words, he’d blabbed about my night out, even though I was an adult and allowed to go out with a friend. On the other hand, that meant Mom had known where I was and hadn’t panicked, so I decided not to complain this time. I was a lot more disturbed by the magical activity I’d seen, some of which was actual criminal behavior instead of just the semi-benign manipulation the wizard had been doing earlier.

As soon as I was sure everyone in the house was sound asleep—including Dean in the bedroom he used to share with Teddy—I did something I hadn’t done since I was in high school. I opened my window and crawled out onto the porch roof, then went from there to an adjacent tree that allowed me to climb fairly easily down to the ground. The boys had made far more use of that escape route than I had, but I’d been dragged along once or twice. It was the only safe way to get out of the house without alerting my parents because there was a really squeaky spot on the stairs that woke everyone up if you hit it, and we’d never figured out a way to avoid it.

Dean had left the truck parked far enough away that I could start it without waking everyone, so I drove back downtown to the square, where I found Sam. “I never saw you as a night owl,” he said when he landed next to the truck.

“I needed to talk to you, and I figured this might be one time when I wouldn’t be interrupted. It’s nearly impossible for me to get away for any length of time around here.” I told him what had happened in the theater and then with Nita’s snake outside the theater. He flew quickly over to that stretch of sidewalk, poked around a bit, then flew back to me.

“Nothing,” he reported. “If there was any blood or if anything had died over there, then someone must have done a really good cleaning job. The sign’s kind of banged up, though. Say, do you think the bad guy is targeting you?”

“If he’s targeting me, it can’t be because he knows me from my work at MSI. He’d have known I was immune to magic and wouldn’t have seen an illusion of a snake. It was probably random, targeting two women who would probably react to a snake by screaming and running. He just didn’t count on Nita being so violently anti-snake.”

“I still don’t like it. It hits a little too close to home. Why here, and why do all these things seem to be happening around your family?” I opened my mouth to answer him, but he held up a wing to silence me. “Answerin’ those questions is my job. You’re out of this. Keep your eyes open, of course, but this ain’t your fight anymore. Now you go home and get your beauty sleep, and I’ll take care of everything.”

Getting back up on the porch roof was a little more difficult than getting down, but I made it safely back to my bedroom with only a scratch or two. I was out of practice for that kind of sneaking around. It was hard getting to sleep, but I kept telling myself that Sam had things under control. All I had to do was keep Mom from seeing anything she shouldn’t until Sam had wrapped things up and caught the bad guys.

Over the next day or so, I resisted the urge to run by the square every time I needed to go through town, and made more offers to run to the grocery store for my mom than I used to when I was in high school and had a crush on one of the bag boys. That was the only way to keep her completely away from the area of maximum magical activity.

Friday morning, I had the pleasure of dealing with some of the less glamorous aspects of the business (which was pretty nonglamorous to begin with). Dean wasn’t to be found and Dad was making deliveries, so I got to help Teddy and Frank unload a shipment. By the time we were done, I was drenched in sweat. I found a T-shirt advertising cattle feed left from a vendor’s visit in my office and changed into that so I wouldn’t be too hideously smelly for the rest of the day. I was afraid to look in the mirror at what my hair and face looked like, so I hid in my office, catching up on paperwork.

Just after lunch Beth showed up. I took Lucy off her hands while she worked the register. I was getting ready to head home when Beth called me from the front of the store. “Katie, someone’s here to see you.”

I had the usual reaction to being told that someone wanted to see me—racing pulse, pounding heart, a bit of a shiver down my spine—but it went away more quickly than usual. With Sam in town and on the case, the odds of anyone else showing up were pretty slim. It was most likely a salesman or, God forbid, Steve Grant.

Boosting Lucy up on my hip, I made my way out to the front of the store, a fake-pleasant smile plastered on my face as I prepared to deal with a salesman. And then I froze in shock and horror.

Owen Palmer was standing live and in the flesh in the middle of Chandler Agricultural Supply.

“Oh. You,” was all I could think of to say.

We stared at each other for a long moment. I’d thought I’d become pretty good at reading Owen, but I hadn’t the slightest idea what was going through his mind. Normally I could gauge by the color and intensity of his blushes, but given sun exposure and the Texas climate, I couldn’t tell how much of the redness on his face was an emotional blush and how much was possibly sunburn or heat.

Beth, being the sensitive soul that she is, beat a strategic retreat to the other side of the store, where she busied herself straightening shelves that were already in good order. It was nice of her to do so, but it didn’t seem to do Owen and me much good since neither of us managed to say anything.