Page 5 of Neighbor DADDY

I finish up with the yard and clean the mower before putting it back in the shed. A cold shower and a beer are calling my name, but both mine and Kelly's yard could use some edging, and I need some new string for my weed eater.

I don't know why I thought retiring from the military and working part-time would be relaxing. Hell, sometimes I feel like I'm busier than ever.

There's a hardware store in town that's close, and after a quick shower, I grab my keys and wallet and head out. It's a small town, and I know nearly everyone, so when I see a confused man dressed way too fancy for a place like this in one of the aisles, I pause. "You need some help, buddy?"

The man turns and looks weirdly guilty, jumping as he does so. "Oh, um! Well, maybe." The man is maybe in his mid-thirties, but he has an oily sort of look about him that I don't trust. But I've already offered my help, and Southern hospitality is part of my DNA. "I'm not used to shopping for tools and stuff," he admits. "I'm looking for a new length of rope for my … boat … is all."

"Well, the ropes are this way, but what type are you looking for?" I lead him back to the aisle and look the selection over. It's not huge, but it's enough, and he seems lost.

"A rope for my boat, like I said."

I'm not getting a good feeling from this guy. He seems shifty, like he's hiding something, and I've dealt with plenty of men just like him over the years. They're usually the type who think they're above the law. "Do you need a rope for the anchor? Or the winch?"

"Uh, the winch?"

"What type of boat do you have?"

"A fishing boat."

"Where do you fish?"

"In the lake."

"Do you keep your boat at the marina, or on the shore, or..."

"Oh, the marina."

I give him a hard look, but I think if I push him more, he's going to run. He hasn't said anything too weird yet, but my instincts aren'tusually wrong. "Okay, man. Sure." I hold out my hand. "Cam. And you are?"

"Um, Frank," the man says, shaking my hand, his palm sweaty.

I grab a coiled length of cord and toss it towards him, which he catches awkwardly. "This should do. Say, why haven't I seen you around here before?"

"I'm in town to see a friend." Frank wipes his wet hands on his slacks, looking less stressed now that we're in neutral conversation territory again. "She just moved here, and I want it to be a surprise."

"That's sweet," I say. "What's your friend's name?"

"K—" He stops himself and coughs into his hand. "Kate. It's Kate."

It's a lie, actually, but he doesn't know I know, and I want to keep it that way. Something about this man is setting off warning bells in my head, and all of them are about my new, gorgeous neighbor. I could pound this guy into the ground right here and now, but I have no proof, so I just clap him on the shoulder and squeeze a little harder than necessary. "Good luck then, Frank. I'll be seeing you around, I'm sure."

He nods, looking pale.

I'm a good judge of character, and Frank is shady as hell. I shrug it off, knowing there's nothing I can do about it right now, but take a second to memorize the cars in the parking lot after I buy my string, just in case.

When I get home, Kelly is outside, and I wave at her. She smiles but doesn't approach, and I try not to let that bother me. Maybe she's not sure how to act around her new neighbor, either.

Or maybe I'm completely barking up the wrong tree.

Either way, I need a distraction.

I fire up my weed eater, and the high-pitched hum fills the air. My yard isn't big, and it's easy enough work, but the whole time I'm focused on what the fuck is going on with Frank and what his deal is.

I have a bad feeling, and I can't shake it.

"Hey."

Her voice makes me jump, and the weed eater goes flying. I catch it before it hits the ground, but it's close, and I turn to face Kelly, trying to look casual and calm, but my heart is racing.

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