Page 42 of Small Town Hunter

Yep. This crazy man has a whole pack of “Budgie’s Favorite” cozied up with his drawers.

The shower shuts off.

Shoot!

Instead of trying to pick up the little bitty seeds by hand I set my luggage — a reusable Walmart bag — on top of the mess. I move his duffel to the side at the exact moment the bathroom door opens. I jump like a kangaroo back into bed and pretend like I’ve been listening to this poor woman Mary Lou the whole time.

Crash is fresh out of the shower, one of his towels slung around his neck. (He brought hisowntowels. With the state of the place, I can’t blame him). Water drips from his curly hair, staining the collar of the gray T-shirt.

“Did you move my bag?” he says.

Busted.

“What?” I play dumb.

“I told you not to touch nothing.”

“I didn’t touchanything. And did you even wash yourself? That was like, thirty seconds.”

I turn back to the TV innocently. He’s still staring at me. Lord forgive me I’m not going to look at his boxers again.

“Listen. I’m headed out,” says Crash. I hold my breath. If he looks down he might notice the mess of birdseed and the book stuffed under my bed. But he only takes out a pair of new jeans from the bag and replaces it.

“Fuck,” he mutters as the birdseed spills everywhere– again.

“Going out?” I repeat, relieved that the mess he just made can cover my tracks. “Where are you going?”

“Just checking out the town,” he replies.

“Okay. Uh huh.”

He straightens up and fastens his holster to his belt. The man gets dressed at the speed of light. “Don’t do anything dumb. I’ll be back in two hours.”

I’ll be fine. Nobody knows where I am. Not the Reverend, not my family, not anybody. I’m hours away from Tippalonga, in the middle of nowhere.

Actually, that makes me feel worse.

“It’s just a couple hours,” he says, watching me. “I’ll be back. Promise.”

“Okay.”

Crash frowns, then goes over to the desk and to my surprise hands me his cellphone. “Use this if you need anything. My number’s on it.”

“How am I supposed to call you withyourcellphone?”

“I have another one, genius. This is my burner.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe while I’m gone you can try to recall more about this Mamie person. That would definitely be helpful.”

“Yes, I’ll try.”

“Don’t open that door for anybody while I’m gone. This town is suspect.”

And on that cheerful note he slams out the door.

From the windowI see Crash’s car pull out of the parking lot, and as soon as it does I get the book out from under the bed.

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