Page 41 of Shadows Reel

“If you two are going to wrestle, you need to take it outside,” Marybeth said. Kestrel was obviously enjoying the tussle going on because she couldn’t stop squealing and clapping.

Marybeth shook her head, but Joe could tell that she was delighted her daughters were getting along in a familiar way.

He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his eyes. It had been a tough day and the bourbon was working on him. He slid his elbow back along the tabletop until it struck something solid on the edge of the surface.

Joe peeled the spare apron back and revealed the Nazi photo album.

Liv recoiled when she saw it as if she’d been stung. “Are those swastikas?” she asked.

“Yes,” Marybeth answered.

Joe could see the symbols stamped or carved into the silver bands that crossed the red leather cover.

“So this is what the fuss was about this morning, huh?” he said to Marybeth.

“Let’s let it go for now,” Marybeth said as she covered the album again and scooped it up. “Let’s save it for later. It’s not something you want to look at tonight. This thing can put a spell on you. Trust me when I say it’ll spoil the mood.”

Joe found it an odd statement, but he trusted her judgment.

“That bad, huh?” he said.

“Let’s just say it’s as disturbing as it is mysterious,” Marybeth said as she found a place for the album in her pantry and closed the door. “I should have put it in here to get it out of the way to begin with.”

Joe and Liv exchanged puzzled looks.

Marybeth stopped in her tracks and smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand.

“What?” Joe asked.

“I got so wrapped up in that stupid photo album that I forgot about making dinner for tonight. I was going to make a pan of lasagna.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll manage,” Liv said.

“No, you won’t. Joe, if I called into town would you please go pick up a couple of pizzas?”

“Sure,” he said, trying not to convey his disappointment.He’d hoped he’d be in for the night. He was thankful he’d only had one light drink. It was unfortunate, he thought, that they lived too far out of Saddlestring to order a delivery.

April appeared in the hallway as if summoned, her hair disheveled from wrestling.

“Get more beer while you’re at it.”

As she spoke, Sheridan rushed her from behind and threw an arm around her neck and pulled her back. April said, “Ack,” but then broke out in laughter. Kestrel followed the two of them back down the hall, clapping her hands for more combat like a little Roman emperor.

Joe climbed back into his boots and clamped his hat on his head and left the House of Feelings with a sigh.

Then he thought of something.

—

It was onlya ten-minute detour to Bert Kizer’s place on the mission to pick up pizza and more beer. The home had been taped off with plastic yellow tape and a sheriff’s department vehicle was parked in front, idling little puffs of exhaust from its tailpipe.

Joe pulled in behind the GMC Acadia and killed his headlights. Before they went off, he saw the deputy inside the SUV sit up and rub his eyes.

Steck had been sleeping in his car. Joe didn’t blame him.

The driver’s-side window slid down. “Hey, Joe, you caught me.”

“Hey, Ryan. Do you mind if I pop inside for a quick look around?”

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