The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas #7)(37)

Big Mike frowned. “Best you settle down, boy. That’s no way to talk.”

Lucy stiffened. As annoyed as she was with Toby, she didn’t appreciate hearing him addressed as “boy.” Either Big Mike didn’t know or didn’t care how offensive that appellation was to African American males, regardless of their age. If her brother, Andre, had been around, Big Mike would have gotten a big lesson in racial sensitivity.

But the offense didn’t appear to have registered with Toby. As Panda freed him, he rushed to Big Mike’s side. “I didn’t do anything. Honest.”

Big Mike had already transferred the pizza box to his left hand, and he draped his right arm around the kid’s shoulders, undoubtedly transferring his cologne in the process. “Are you sure about that?” Big Mike said. “Miss Viper here seems pretty upset.”

Panda snorted.

The way Big Mike was taking her in said he was still trying to place her face. She looked down.

“I didn’t do anything,” Toby said again.

Lucy decided wearing a cologne-saturated T-shirt was sufficient punishment for Toby. “I don’t want you spying on me anymore. If it happens again, I’ll talk to your grandmother.”

Toby screwed up his face. “My grandmother’s not home right now, so you can’t talk to her.”

Not even a smart-aleck kid could ruffle Big Mike’s amiability. “You know what I think, Toby? I think you owe Miss Viper an apology.”

She wasn’t a big believer in forced apologies, but Big Mike patted Toby’s shoulder. “Don’t you have something to say to her? Or would you rather wait till she comes to your house?”

The boy looked at his feet. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Big Mike nodded, as if Toby had spoken from the depths of his heart. “That’s better. I’ll take Toby home now. He won’t be giving you any more trouble, will you, Toby?”

Toby scuffed his feet and shook his head.

“I didn’t think so.” Big Mike still held the pizza, and he extended the box toward Panda. “The two of you go ahead and enjoy this. I can come over and talk to you later about the boat.”

“The boat?” Panda said.

“A twenty-foot Polar Kraft. The owner only took it out one summer, and he’s practically giving it away. Miss Viper told me you were in the market.”

Panda glanced down at her. “Miss Viper misunderstood.”

Big Mike knew how to roll with the punches, and his smile grew broader. “She seemed pretty sure, but hey— You have my card. When you’re ready, you give me a ring. That boat’s a real bargain. Now you two enjoy that pizza. Come on, Toby.” He steered the boy along the path in the opposite direction from the house.

As they disappeared, Panda looked down at her. “You told him I wanted to buy a boat?”

“You might want to buy a boat. How was I supposed to know?”

He shook his head and turned toward the house only to stop and lift the box closer to his nose. “Why does this pizza smell like perfume?”

“Big Mike believes in marking his territory.” She quickened her steps and left Panda to walk back to the house alone.



BREE HEARD TOBY COMING THROUGH the woods before she saw him. It was almost seven, and once again she’d forgotten to fix him dinner. Usually when that happened, she’d go inside and find him sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal from one of the many boxes Myra had picked up on her last trip to Sam’s Club before she’d gotten too ill to travel to the mainland.

Bree told herself to get up off the step and do something—anything—other than smoke, stare at Myra’s beehives, and think about those long-ago summers when she and Star ran back and forth like wild things from this cottage to the house. But she didn’t have a lot of bright thoughts to choose from. Her shattered marriage? Nope. Her empty bank account? Definitely not. As for her self-esteem … How could she think about something that didn’t exist?

This cottage, along with Myra’s honey house, had once been her second home, but in the last three weeks, the place had become her prison. If only she could run to the summer house, curl up on the screen porch with her Walkman again, and listen to the Backstreet Boys while she watched her brothers and their friends race up and down the steps to the dock. David had been one of those beautiful boys that last summer, although during the day he’d worked a fishing charter while the rest of them played.

Bree stared at the bees and lit another cigarette just as Toby came out of the woods. Someone was with him. She shielded her eyes and saw a good-looking man walking at his side. He was big all over, tall, with wide shoulders and a broad chest. One of those attractive men who stood out in a crowd. The kind of man—

She sprang off the step.

“Hey there, Bree,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

Thirteen years fell away. His physical transformation meant nothing. She hated him now as fiercely as she had the last time she’d seen him. “Toby, get in the house,” she said stiffly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Hold on.” He ruffled Toby’s hair as if he had that right. “You remember what I said, Toby. Summer people are naturally paranoid. You can’t keep going over there.”

“I wasn’t doin’ nothing bad.”