Two from the Heart(45)

Karl pops out of his chair and heads for the bank of seven-foot-tall IBM mainframes, where the problem usually starts.

I admit I’m always a little amused when Daisy loses her cool. Sometimes I even egg her on just for the fun of it.

But this time, something stops me.

Get the glitch out of this bitch. It’s an unusual expression.

I should know—I wrote it. In my first novel.

Which almost nobody read.





Chapter 28


FIRST THING tomorrow, I need you to look at the Durango out front. Something with the computer. Right up your damn alley.” It’s quitting time for Pico. Bron is wiping the grease off a set of wrenches.

“Will do,” says Bron.

Pico’s a great boss, but the shop is not really big enough for two people, especially when one of them weighs about three hundred pounds. Bron prefers the times when Pico is in his office sorting through invoices—or when he takes off early, like tonight.

Especially tonight. Because Bron has plans.

As soon as he sees Pico’s taillights fade, he starts gathering what he needs.

From a bin of discarded parts, he picks out some thin pieces of sheet metal and plastic pipes, some rubber tubing, and scraps of insulation. A rusting metal cabinet in the back of the shop contains a few decades’ worth of discarded chemicals of all kinds, organized in a way only Pico could explain. Just about every element in the periodic table is in there somehow. Bron finds a half-empty box of stump remover, some random solvents, and a few ancient steel wool pads. Perfect.

He packs his treasures into a cardboard box and hoists it onto his shoulder for the walk back to the motel. He was hoping Luke and Timo wouldn’t be out on the deck tonight. But no such luck.

They spot Bron and hear the rattle of metal in his box as he tries to slip past.

Caught.

“Hey! What are you making there, Einstein—your own margarita machine?” says Luke.

Bron is too tired to explain. “Nope,” he says. “A vibrating bed.”

“Smartass,” says Timo, grinning.

Luke and Timo look at each other, still curious. But not curious enough to stop drinking. Bron gets a pass.

“Night, guys,” he calls out.

Bron closes the door, lowers the shades, and tucks the box into the closet. He realizes that the contents of his cardboard carton are almost enough to put him on a no-fly list.

And he’s about to carry them into a classroom.





Chapter 29


ONCE UPON a Starry Night. This is one of my favorites. It’s the best! You’ll love it!”

Willow is signing out a picture book at the library. She stamps the card and slips it back inside the jacket, then hands the book to the eager five-year-old boy standing on tiptoes in front of the desk.

The boy’s mother tells him to say thank you, but all he can manage is a quick nod. He grips the book to his chest like a priceless treasure. As they walk out, Tyler Bron is on his way in.

“Hey, Willow,” says Bron.

“Hey,” she answers brightly, then turns mock serious. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

Bron has no idea what she’s talking about.

“Thanks to you, we’re totally out of books on constellations. Gone. Finito. The shelf is empty.”

In the week since Bron’s open-air astronomy lesson, the town has been buzzing—especially the kids. Bron had never been asked for his autograph before. But now it’s happened a few times.

“Sounds like I’m good for business,” says Bron.

“So, what’s up?” Willow strokes her fingers through her hair and cocks her head to one side. “You need the computer again?” She bores her eyes into his. “Need to delve deeper into your life?”

“Actually,” says Bron, fiddling with some pencils on the checkout desk, “I need to take it with me.”

Willow stops playing with her hair. “The computer? What do you mean—take it with you?”

“I’m helping with a science project at the school. It involves digital control. And you’ve got the only programmable hard drive in town.”

Willow thinks this over.

“I’ll get it back, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“In working order?”

“Probably.”

Willow leans forward. “Oh, What the hell. Go ahead. To be honest, I prefer the card catalog anyway.” She leans forward a little more. “I like having something in my hand. Something I can touch…” Crazy flirty.

Nice try. Bron is already on his way to the back.

He has to crawl on all fours underneath the study carrel to trace the power cord and modem cord to the outlets. He encounters about twenty years of dust and a box of petrified Gummy Bears.

When he backs out and stands up again—surprise—Willow is right there, leaning with her back against the wall just a few feet away. Bron could swear that her blouse is opened at least one button lower than it was before.

“So, Fred Astaire, when are we going dancing again?” she asks.

Bron tugs the power cord through the opening in the desktop and starts wrapping it around the computer.

“Are we allowed to discuss dancing during library hours?”

“I don’t see any rules posted,” she says, moving toward him.