A red BMW M3 with a flat right front tire glided up to
where he stood on the curb. The street was quiet this
early in the morning and he was pretty much the only
thing moving downtown at the moment, so it made sense.
Hadn't seen this model of hardtop convertible in Patton
Springs before. He leaned over and peered in. A woman was
driving, if the hairstyle and huge sunglasses were any
indication.
The window slid down and the smell that came out almost
made Jake step back, but he crouched beside the car to
look in, setting his mug on the curb, his aching muscles
forgotten.
"Looks like you've got a problem, ma'am," he said
politely. "Can I help?"
Something that looked like a dirty pile of rags was lying
on her lap. He squinted at the thing and saw it
breathing. Something alive then. And the distinct odor in
the car was getting stronger. Dog. Definitely a dog.
The woman pulled off the glasses and he nearly fell over.
"Thea?"She blinked at him. Her eyes widened.
"Jake?"
He thought he saw tears well into her eyes as she laid
her head back on the headrest.
"Perfect. Just perfect," she mumbled.
From the sound of it she had a really bad cold. There
were high spots of color on her cheeks, which had been
pale anyway, but seemed even paler by comparison. And all
that great auburn hair of hers, well most of it, had been
chopped off since he last saw her. Still, it was damn
good to see her again.
"You're here for the wedding, then," he said.
She moved her head affirmatively against the headrest.
"Drove all the way from Philadelphia?"
She nodded her head again.
"Got a cold?" He couldn't hide his grin, but she wasn't
looking at him anyway.
Another nod.
"And you brought your dog along?"
She shook her head.
He took a longer look as the creature stirred and lifted
its head.
"Rescued it?"
She nodded.
"Uh-huh. Does it…uh, need to pee or something?"
"Already did," she croaked.
He tried not to laugh, but it was hard.
"If you are grinning about this dog peeing in my lap, I
am going to pull out your shiny white teeth one by one
with a pair of pliers, Jake Jake Cupcake." She didn't
even open her eyes.
It was so classically Thea that he snorted and watched
her lip curve upward.
"That's good then," he said. "It can stay right there in
your lap while I change this tire for you."
She still kept her eyes closed. "Not an 'it'. Her name's
Bailey. And there's no spare. Stupid hunk-magnet car
doesn't even have a spare."
Hunk-magnet car. Jake avoided laughing this time. "Oh,
yeah. Probably has a sealant kit in the trunk instead.
When did the indicator come on?"
"Just as I drove into town," she said. "Of course."
She sounded exhausted. Must've driven all night.
He went up to give the tire a closer look. There didn't
seem to be any damage, no puncture or anything.
"Can you pop the trunk?" he asked, going back to the
window.
Without even looking, she picked up a small purse from
the console. "Remote's in here."
He found the remote and popped the trunk, then stared in
disbelief. If Thea had just come down for the wedding,
she had brought a hell of a lot of stuff. There were
suitcases, certainly. But there were also boxes and
plastic bags and what looked like winter coats tossed
across the top of it all. Every corner was crammed with
something. It was packed in so tightly there was no
chance of digging it all out to get at the tire repair
kit buried at the bottom.
Curious, he pulled back a flap on one of the boxes to
find it full of books. Maybe she had planned to donate
the stuff and forgot. He popped open another box. Framed
photos—one of Daniel and Grace and Thea when they were
teenagers and one of the Woodsman, her grandfather, with
his arm thrown around Thea. He paused, surprised to find
one of himself at his dulcimer, hammering away and
grinning at the camera and one of Becca with her fiddle.
Damn. He shut the box.
Whatever she was doing, she wasn't giving this stuff
away. He shut the trunk, walked up to the driver's side
and crouched down.
"I can't get to the kit. I'll go get the one out of my
truck, but you'll have to get to a dealer
to repair it permanently."
"Hmmm."
"You awake?"
"Hmmm."
"Okay, I'll be back in a sec." He ran across the street
and dug the tire inflator kit out of
his toolbox.
Thea Woodruff with all her worldly goods packed into a
BMW. Last he had heard she was an attorney at Hartford
Pharmaceuticals, where her father was CEO. And the last
time any of them had seen her was at her grandfather's
funeral last year. She had tried to remain inconspicuous,
showing up at the last minute with all that hair of hers
shoved under a black hat and those huge sunglasses on.
Eddie Miner, who'd been the Woodruff's handyman forever,
had told him that "Miss Thea" had snuck back for some
holidays over the years, but she wanted to keep it quiet
because of an ongoing feud between her father and the
Woodsman, so no one ever saw her in town. She hadn't been
back since the funeral, not even for Grace's wedding.
Being intimately familiar with family dysfunction, Jake
hadn't been too surprised when the Woodsman's son,
Marshall, failed to show up for his funeral. But Jake had
been real glad to see Thea there. Real glad.
With all the people crowding up to extend their
condolences, he had barely gotten close when he saw Thea
head for her car, her high heels dangling from her hand
as she ran through the grass. Grace and Daniel had stood
apart from the crowd and watched her go. It seemed to him
that Thea kept running away, again and again. He thought
about that packed trunk and wondered if she was running
again. And if so, where to?