Page 61 of Harrison Hyde and the Runaway Bride

A pretty wooden sign said, “Elmwood,” but did not elaborate.

As they drove over a paved lane, they passed dozens of duplex units, all sided in cream with brown trim. Each unit had a small driveway and two-car garage. Similar lanes, all with tree names, split off in many directions, and she lost track of how many times they’d turned. There’d been Pine Street, Spruce Avenue, Willow Lane, and Oak Terrace. Harry didn’t seem to look at the signs at all. He must know the way by heart. Eventually, he pulled alongside the curb in front of one of the units. “Not allowed to block the driveways,” he said by way of explanation.

“I can wait here,” Maria said, “if you want some time with him, before?—”

“No, it’s fine. I saw him a week ago, and we talk daily, up until all this, at least.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was safe to tell him we were coming.”

“Just what everybody loves. Unexpected company.”

He held her gaze for a minute, then he said, “I think you’re right,” and then he called his father on speaker. His father answered on the third ring.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Harrison! It’s great to hear from you.”

“I can do better. Are you up for a visit?”

“You’re here?”

“Right outside.” Harry looked toward the house and Maria, following his gaze, saw curtains move.

“Who’s that with you?”

The older man’s tone had changed entirely. It was deep and, Maria thought, suspicious.

“Maria,” he said. “It’s her family who took me in down in Texas. I trust her.”

“You sure?”

He frowned at the phone then at Maria. She shook her head, as lost as he was. As far as he knew, his dad had no idea about the intrigue and danger unfolding in his son’s life, beyond that his car had been stolen and the solar tile with it. Then Harry said, “I’m sure, Dad. Listen, are you… um…alone?”

“If you’re sure, bring her on in. I just put mixed berry tarts in the oven.”

The man left the window then appeared in the open front door. He had hair that was fading to gray from a reddish brown, in a horseshoe pattern around a bald center, and a warm smile for his son. He wore loose gray warmup pants and a red polo shirt with an alligator logo on the breast.

Harry hit the lock on the car and walked with Maria right up to the door. His father hugged him, slapping his back hard. “Good to see you, son. Good to see you. Come on, come inside.” He kind of herded them in then looked outside behind them before closing the door and locking it. Then he turned, smiling.

“Dad, Maria Brand Monroe. You met on a phone call. I’ve been staying with her family since the car was stolen.”

“Hyram Hyde,” he said. “A pleasure to meet you face to face at last.”

“It sure is.”

“Dad,” Harry said. “I… I’m worried about Lily.”

“Yes, I knew you would be by now. Sit, sit. Ah, my tarts!” He hurried to the kitchen, but then he started coughing when he got there.

Harry went to help, but his dad waved him away and reached for a prescription bottle from amid a line of them on the kitchen counter. “Get the tarts,” he managed between hacking.

So Harry grabbed a potholder and took a baking sheet full of golden brown, perfectly folded, triangular tarts from the oven. Each had red berry juice oozing and bubbling from teardrop-shaped cuts in the dough.

Hyram swallowed his pill and half a glass of water.

Harry said, “Jeeze, Dad, what’s with the cough?”

“Bah.” Hyram waved his hands. “I’m old. Deal with it.” He nodded Maria’s way. “There’s fresh coffee made, cups in the cabinet above. My gosh, your hair is spectacular. Isn’t it spectacular, Harrison?” Then he shuffled into the living room and sank onto the sofa. “Bring us each a serving and a cuppa Joe, will you?”

Maria met Harry’s eyes, grinning. He mouthed the word “spectacular,” and touched her hair, and the look in his eyes made her heart beat faster.

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