Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(39)

I nod. The cell phone she dropped off yesterday came fully programmed with all of their numbers. Except for Jesse’s. For some reason, I noticed that straight away.

“Also, Jane, I need a name. The judge will sign off on the paperwork and we can get you temporary identification quickly, but I need a name.”

“How about Felix?” I joke half-heartedly.

He lets out a loud snort. It’s as close to a laugh as I’ve ever heard from him. “Listen, you can’t drive that truck off this property until you have a license. I don’t care what Ginny tells you. I’m still the sheriff.”

“Got it,” I agree solemnly. He tips his broad-rimmed hat, and then strolls away.

FIFTEEN

Jesse

then

“Jesse?” Her voice peels my attention away from the engine block I’ve been staring at for the past half hour. She’s standing in the doorway, her blond hair hanging damp around her shoulders, a bowl in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.

“Hey.” It comes out scratchy. It’s the first word I’ve said to anyone today, aside from Licks. I had to drag myself out of bed this morning to get here. Normally, I sleep until at least noon on the Saturdays that I’m not working. “Thanks for letting me in.” I assume it was Alex who opened the gate when I buzzed and rolled open the garage door when I pulled up to the house. Her car is the only one in the driveway. “I guess Viktor’s not around?”

“No. He didn’t come home last night. He just texted to see if you were here. He’s on his way.” A look of resignation passes across her face but she says nothing more about it. Maybe her candor about her husband last night was on account of the beer she chugged in front of me. She herself admitted that Viktor doesn’t let her drink. “I figured you could use breakfast.” My heart picks up its pace as she takes the three steps down, her blue jeans tight around her long, slender thighs. She’s wearing another T-shirt, but this one’s oversized and sliding off one of her thin shoulders.

“How’d you know?”

“That you don’t take care of yourself? Lucky guess.”

“I told you, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t have to.”

I start laughing when I look down to see the blue balls floating around the creamy yogurt.

She cocks her head playfully. “Not even blueberries? They’re my favorite.”

“Not even blueberries.”

She shrugs, still smiling, taking several steps toward the door. “I figured it was worth a shot. I’ll leave the bowl here, in case you feel like impressing me. More than you do.” She adds quickly, “With the cars, I mean.” Her cheeks flush with red.

I watch her take another step and bump into the boxes with the brake parts. One tumbles, hitting the ground with a rattle. Her eyes widen with panic. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry!”

I chuckle at her sudden shyness and her clumsiness. She’s cute when she’s awkward. “It’s fine. They’re car parts, not china.”

Her bottom lip slips between her teeth and then she bursts out laughing. It’s an infectious sound and it lights up her entire face. I’m pretty sure she’s laughing at herself.

I hope so. Because I love a girl who can do that.

A slew of Russian words fly from Viktor’s mouth as he marches past the open garage door, a phone in his ear. I try to keep my focus on the engine that’s now sitting on the floor, a mess of cylinder caps and valves and bolts, but it’s hard, especially when I hear who he’s talking to.

There’s a pause, and then in English, “I am a busy man, Alexandria. You should know. You are out spending my hard-earned money right now! . . . I do not have time to chauffeur you around . . . No . . . Maybe waiting two hours for roadside assistance will teach you to watch your gas levels after this. Or, you can always walk the five miles.”

Oh Jeez. What is with that woman and cars?

He jabs at the “end” button and then to me, he raises his index finger. “When you marry a woman, Jesse, make sure she has some common sense. This one?” He holds up his phone, as if it represents his wife. “I married her for her youth, her beauty, her obedience, and her ability to suck my cock. I should have also looked for common sense. All she does lately is cause me headaches.” Shaking his head, he slides his phone in his pocket. “You are on your own here until she gets back. How much longer for that list?”

“I should be able to get it together in another couple of hours.”

“Good. And, just remember, the longer you take on this car, the more time you will need to work on yours.” With that thinly veiled threat, he climbs into the passenger side of his Hummer. The big blond guy from The Cellar is behind the wheel.

What a dick.

And I’m not even talking about my Barracuda. He’s going to just leave his wife sitting on the side of the road, in the rain, because she made a mistake? We’ve all made mistakes. Hell, I’ve made more than my share. I watch the gate close behind the Hummer and wonder if he’s just shooting his mouth off, acting tough. If he’s actually going to go get her.

Twenty minutes later, I still feel convinced that he’s not.

And now I can’t concentrate. Finally, I throw the wrench down and run out to my car, hitting the garage door button on my way out. He said she’s five miles out and she was shopping. The mall’s to the west, but I’m guessing she doesn’t shop at malls. So, she’s likely coming in from the trendier part in the north.