Page 3 of Snowed In With the Snow Queen
I head back inside, wash my hands, and grab my keys. Chewpawca is still hovering over his food bowl. He hisses as I attempt to scratch his head. “Sorry, I should have guessed that you weren’t a morning person, old man,” I tell him, walking out and locking the door behind me.
Chapter Two
Randy
The drive from the ranch to the Wild Hare doesn’t take long. When I pull up, Eddie’s outside waiting for me. He’s switched out his typical uniform of jeans and black t-shirt for a nice tailored suit. Standing next to him is a pretty young Black woman in a conservative dress and low heels. She bounces around on the balls of her feet, rubbing her hands together like she’s trying to get warm. As I pull up, Eddie takes off his suit jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. She says something to him with a bright smile on her dark brown face and he smiles back.
They’re so wrapped up in each other that neither one turns to look at me until I’m practically on them.
“Boss,” Eddie says, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the woman. I nod politely in her direction, then look back at him. “I already called the sheriff and told them it was a false alarm.” The whine of the alarm is painful to my ears. Why no one has made ear plugs for wolves is beyond me. Maybe I should look into developing them now that my only responsibilities are shutting off alarms and feeding horses.
“Thank you so much for coming out, Mr. Lamar. I’m so sorry I set off the alarms.” The woman says, huddling under Eddie’s jacket. “Zander went through all the steps, but I must have missed one.”
Over the years that I owned the Wild Hare, it was common practice for us to rent the place out for parties and such. If you can look past the stripper poles and the stage, it’s a good place to host a get-together. It’s a big open space with lots of tables and chairs, and a bar. But in all those years, we’ve never had a Sunday morning party that I can recall.
“It’s Sunday morning. None of the staff will be available until after lunch to help you set up, Miss–” I look at her and she blinks back as a smile spreads across her face.
“I’m Michelle. And that’s actually perfect for us. We’re having services here.”
“Services?”
Eddie looks away with a smile on his bright red face.
“Ma’am, did you say services? As in church services?”
“I sure did, Mr. Lamar.” A bright grin lights up her face.
“Young lady, you know this is a strip club, right?”
She chuckles. “Jesus loved everyone, Mr. Lamar.”
“But Jesus’s fan club does not.”
She laughs. “Fair enough, but our church family is a little different. We were growing too big for our current location, and Zander offered a discount for the time, since it’s not a popular time for parties.”
“And you’re sure you want to host your services here?”
Her smile is bright and lights up her entire face. “I am sure. It is the perfect size at the perfect price.”
I look at Eddie. “And you’re here to keep an eye on things?”
“Yeah, boss.”
I wonder which one of my nephews thought it was funny to have our resident demon keep an eye on church services. I shakemy head as I step past them and into the front foyer of the bar. The keypad has always been a little bit wonky. I enter the code three times, hit it with my fist a few times, then enter the code once more before it finally shuts down.
“So the key is the three hits?” Michelle says, amusement in her voice.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be here earlier next time and have it off before you get here,” Eddie promises her.
I look around the bar. I’ve been in it a million times when it was empty like this, but there’s something different about it today. Something heavy about standing here, in a place that’s no longer mine.
Eddie and Michelle talk around me, laughing about some private joke. I’d slip out and leave them to it, but they’re blocking the door. I clear my throat, suddenly eager to leave. “Have a good morning,” I tell them. Eddie steps aside to let me pass.
“You, too, boss.”
“Thank you again, Mr. Lamar!” Michelle calls out.
I nod politely in her direction and step past them, walking out the door into the cold air, and straight into a person carrying a tall stack of donut boxes. The boxes at the very top of the stack topple and fall to the ground as the person stops abruptly outside the door.
