Previously Loved Treasures (Serendipity #2)(66)

“Sounds good,” Harriet said. “Mind if I tag along?”

This was something Max hadn’t anticipated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” As he spoke the words Max had no idea what he could do with them; then it hit him. He gave a shallow little laugh and added, “I’m seeing a lady friend, and I don’t think she’d appreciate you being there.”

“Gotcha.” Harriet nodded. She turned back to reading the year-old Glamour magazine.

~

When Max left the house he was empty-handed, and he made a point of passing through a number of rooms so people would see it. In the kitchen he stopped to tell Rose it was doubtful he’d be back in time for dinner. As he passed through the house he wondered aloud if he should bring an umbrella, and as he crossed the side porch where Laricka sat he noted how tall her grandsons were getting.

Max climbed in his car and headed west toward Harrington, but before he got to the highway he circled around and pulled onto the eastbound road that ran all the way to Mackinaw. Max smiled. He had a feeling this would be the best trip yet.

When he passed the far edge of Rose Hill, Max had an urge to stop and see Maggie Sue. He could do it; he still had cash in his pocket and there’d be more coming. He passed the turnoff and continued to drive for another two miles, but then he got the itch.

“What the hell,” he mumbled and made a U-turn.

It was early afternoon, and Maggie Sue was still working on her first cup of coffee. When Max rang the doorbell she answered on the first ring. Standing there in a fleecy bathrobe and not a stitch of makeup, she said, “If you’re looking for anything other than coffee, it’s too early.”

“Coffee’s good,” Max replied and followed her into the apartment.

To Max’s eye she looked good, even without the red dress and makeup. She looked like the kind of woman he needed. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine her living in the Sweetwater house; maybe even bringing him coffee in bed.

“Looks like I’m gonna be coming into some money,” he said.

She answered with a smile.

“A lot of money,” he added. “And that house you liked so much.”

“The big house where you been rooming?”

He nodded.

“Wow,” she said. It was the same silky soft word she’d uttered before.

“If we was together,” Max said, “you could be living there.”

“Together?”

Max nodded. “Sleeping in the same bed, having ourselves some fun. That kind of together.”

Maggie Sue gave a big smile, the kind of smile that didn’t need lipstick to look good. “You ain’t fooling with me, are you, Maxie?”

Max leaned back in the chair and grinned the grin of a man with power. “Nope. I’m telling the God’s honest truth.”

Maggie Sue gave a squeal of delight, then left her chair and came around the table to hug Max from behind. “You’re just the sweetest ever.”

~

It was almost five o’clock when Max finally left Maggie Sue’s apartment and started for Mackinaw. When he pulled up in front of Edgar’s Pawnshop there was a handwritten sign taped to the door. It read, “Gone to Supper, be back later.”

“Rat shit,” Max said with a groan. He went back to his car and sat. He waited for almost a half hour, then figured he could do with a drink. He locked the car and walked back toward Bucket Street. Two blocks down he spotted a bar and went in.

It was little more than a hole in the wall with a handful of stools and one lone customer sitting at the far end of the bar. Max ordered a bourbon and sat. He had two more, then went back to the pawnshop. Finding it still closed, he returned to the bar.

When Max walked in the second time, the bartender was nowhere in sight and the glass he’d emptied earlier sat right where he’d left it. Max nodded to the guy at the end of the bar. “Where’s the barkeep?”

Joe Mallory shrugged. “More ’n likely gone for a smoke.”

“So I can’t get a drink?” Max replied sarcastically.

Joe reached a long arm across the bar, grabbed the bottle of bourbon, and filled Max’s glass to the brim. “This one’s on the house,” he said and replaced the bottle.

Max grinned and stuck out his hand. “Max Sweetwater.”

“Joe. Joe Mallory,” he answered; then he turned back to his own drink.

Nothing more was said for several minutes; then Max asked if Joe knew what time the pawnshop would reopen.

“No idea.” Joe shrugged. “Edgar closes up whenever he’s a mind to.”

“Damn,” Max grumbled. “I was hoping to get out fast. I got this woman who—”

“So you’ll have a few more drinks,” Joe cut in. “At least you got a woman and something to sell.”

“Yeah, but she ain’t one who’s big on waiting.”

“Shit, man, none of them are. Mine left me sitting in jail and took off with my kid.”

“That stinks.” Max gulped down a swig of bourbon. “So, in case Edgar don’t make it back tonight, are there any other pawnshops around here?”

“Nah, Edgar’s it.” Joe gave a slant-eyed glance at Max and realized he was the same guy who’d stopped in at the gas station asking about a pawnshop. “You been here before, ain’t you?”