“Way to go!” Clarence said, clapping Linc on the shoulder.
“Does that mean you’ll be leaving the ranch?” Jimmy asked Linc, obviously concerned about losing a pal… although he himself would be going back home next month, with the promise that he could return next summer.
“Naw, you can’t get rid of me that easy,” Linc said, ruffling the boy’s hair, which was overlong now that Charmaine wasn’t there to trim it. Why does everything keep coming back to Charmaine? “I can write in the evenings. I’ve never been much for TV anyhow.”
After dinner, Raoul asked Jimmy to come into the office with him. He sat down before the computer, which was already booted up, and motioned for Jimmy to sit beside him.
Jimmy stared at him quizzically. They’d already completed the ranch business on the computer this morning.
“I want you to help me with something on the Internet,” he announced. “How do I do a search on a particular subject?”
“Go to Google or Yahoo.” He leaned in front of him and typed in a web address. When they were there—wherever that was—Jimmy asked, “What subject do you want to research?”
Raoul sighed loudly, then said, “Dude ranches.”
Hideout Hell…
“I am so angry I could wring your neck,” Charmaine said, fisting her hands tightly to her sides.
“Well, at least you’re not crying. Geesh, I never saw anyone cry as much as you.” This not-so-wise pronouncement came from Dirk the Jerk who was lazing about in a hammock at the RV park where they’d been hiding out for more than two weeks. And talk about annoying! The pest stuck to her like a shadow everywhere she went, which was never far. And her mother was just as bad. Fluttering around her like a mama bird with sudden maternal instincts. “Betcha your tear ducts have finally dried up from overuse. Betcha you could bottle those tears and sell ’em to some fancy cosmetics company. Betcha you could get a job on one of the soaps where turning on the tears at will is considered a great talent.”
Betcha you have a death wish. She made a low, growling sound in her throat.
Which must have alerted the dumb dude that he was in potential trouble. He wiped the smirk from his unshaven face. He’d stopped shaving a week ago, probably to fit in with the other lowlifes at this lowlife RV camp who sat around all day in folding lawn chairs, drinking beer and belching. It was a perfect hiding spot. The only danger to Charmaine here was flying beer caps. “Okay, what’s the gripe this time?”
“Where’s the car?”
“What car?”
She made the low, growling sound again. “That rusted-out rattletrap that is usually attached to the rusted-out Winnebago.”
He smiled at her description, which was not a good thing to do, considering her mood.
“Your mother drove it to Houston.”
Is that why she asked me to do her hair and makeup? “Why?”
“For the photo shoot.”
Yep! “And Tante Lulu?” Charmaine suddenly realized that the old lady was missing, too.
“Fleur is dropping her off along the way. Your aunt has some patient with cataracts that needs her help.”
Wait a minute. I know I just woke up, but my brain isn’t so fuzzy that I don’t realize something strange is going on here. “I thought it was too dangerous for us to leave this godforsaken place.”
“It was.”
“Was? Your neck is looking more and more tempting.”
“Luc phoned this morning to say that we can get out of hiding after the court papers are filed today.”
“Phone? What phone? I didn’t know we had a phone.”
“Remy is on his way to pick you up”—he glanced down at his wrist watch—”in about a half hour.”
“And y’all just let me sleep through these events in that steambath on wheels? And my mother and Tante Lulu left without telling me all this?”
He shrugged. “Your aunt said you needed to rest… after all that crying.”
Like my aunt is the expert on what is good for me! “And whose idea was it to leave you behind with me?”
“Mine.” He beamed at her. As if she ever in a million years would relish his company! “And, by the way, you might want to be nicer to me… once you find out who I really am.”