Page 9 of Landon (In Safe Hands)
It’salmost a mile to the canal and as always, I can smell the water before I getthere. I actually prefer the trail along White River, but lately it’s become ahangout for drug dealers and the homeless. After three reports of peoplegetting jumped and robbed in the last week, the well- lit, heavily patrolledtrail along the canal is a better choice.
Afew pale stars glow overhead as I jog along, lost in my thoughts. I can’t waitto get out of here, to move to a more rural area. I’m no country boy or farmer,but I’d like to see the stars at night, smell grass and trees instead of theexhaust being belched out of trucks, or garbage piled by the street.
Ihave the funds to go anywhere I want. More than I could ever spend in alifetime, but I don’t think that truth has sunk in yet. I’ve always had enoughto survive. My parents had generous life insurance policies that paid off whenI lost them in a car crash six years ago, but nothing compared to what my uncleLarry left me, the only remaining member of the Clark family.
Icould’ve let the house go and bought a new one somewhere, but it seemed wrongsomehow. When Dare mentioned needing a more permanent place to set up ourorganization, everything just fell into place. Hiring Zoe is just the firststep. Once it’s reasonably clean and organized, it’ll become our headquarters.A nice house in an upper class neighborhood that won’t draw any unwantedattention. I have no close neighbors to question why I only come and go atnight, and why most of my company does the same.
Apatrol cop nods at me as I jog past. He recognizes me now, but the first fewtimes I ran by him in the middle of the night, he regarded me with suspicion.Finally, he just stopped me and asked what the hell I was doing. My explanationof being an insomniac and training for a marathon placated him and now he justwaves or nods when I fly by.
That’sanother reason I look forward to living in the country. The privacy. Nosuspicious faces or distrustful stares. You’d think being a night owl was acrime. Maybe it’s the sudden cultural influx of vampire crap. There areactually people who believe in that shit, like I’m going to bite them and drinktheir blood. Gross. I want to yell, “Nothing supernatural here, you morons.Just a guy who sleeps days.”
Therun does the trick, and after a hot shower, I’m able to get some work done onthe computer. A little after seven a.m. I shuffle off to bed, stiff fromsitting still the last few hours. Zoe’s pale eyes and mischievous smile flashthrough my head, and I quickly try to picture something else. Anything else.She has enough to deal with without me adding to her problems. Besides, I wanther to work here more than ever now that I know how much she needs the money.
Forsome reason, Zoe is the first thing I think of when I wake. Well, actually, I’mthinking of my uncle’s old truck that’s parked in the attached garage. It’sjust rotting in there. Why not loan it to her until she gets her car out of theshop?
Thegarage is a dusty mess. I’ve only been in here once since I moved in. One halfis piled with boxes and junk, while my uncle’s truck takes up the other half.Unlike most men with his type of wealth, he didn’t give two shits about the carhe drove. His ten year old pickup did him just fine, and I’m sure it will workfor Zoe for a few days once I give it a little tune up.
She’sdue here in an hour, so I whip off the tarp covering the truck and get started.The battery is flat as a pancake, but I have a portable charger. While that’srunning, I clean up the inside, vacuuming up the ashes and loose tobaccosprinkled across the seat and floorboards. A little pine scented cleanser makesit smell a whole lot better.
Ibarely hear Zoe knock on the door. Damn, it’s been an hour already? “You don’thave to knock. The door will be unlocked,” I tell her as I let her in.
“Okay.”
“Didyou get your car out of the shop?”
Sheshakes her head, her ponytail swishing from side to side. “It’ll be a few days,but that doesn’t mean you need to drive me home. A cab is fine.” There’s nopoint in arguing with her now. “Would you still like me to start in thekitchen?”
“Please.And I’ll be in the garage if you need anything.”
“I’llbe fine,” she calls, already headed to the kitchen. Damn, do I stink? Shecouldn’t get away from me fast enough.
Thenext time I look up from working on the truck, the sun has set, and I open thegarage door, letting in a rush of fresh night air. With the truck windows down,it should air out nicely. Now, if only it’ll start. It fires right up andmanages to make it just outside the garage door before dying again. Damn it.
Aquick look under the hood and I know I need to make a trip to the automotivestore. Zoe peeks up at me when I poke my head into the kitchen. Fuck me, she’son her knees. Her red lips part as she gazes up at me, and every word I wasabout to speak flies out of my head.
“Landon?You need something?”
Oh,fuck do I, but nothing I can accept from her. “I’m heading out for a bit to runa few errands.”
“Noproblem.” She turns back to scrubbing the fridge. An assortment of groceriesare stacked around the kitchen. “By the way, most of your food is expired.Like, die if you eat it expired.”
“Throwit out. I’ll restock later.”
“Willdo.”
Hershirt rises as she reaches toward the back of the fridge, baring a small stripof skin on her lower back. What I’d give to lick it. I have to get out of here.
Luckily,the auto store has a fuel filter that’ll fit and the right spark plugs. It’safter eight when I’m on my way home and I wonder if Zoe’s had dinner yet. Ihave no idea what she likes to eat, but pizza seems like a safe bet. Whodoesn’t like pizza? A few minutes later, I walk through the door with twopizzas and a two liter of Dr. Pepper.
Zoeis scrubbing out a cabinet, and she pauses when I enter, watching me place thefood on the table. “You should get some liners for your cabinets, or contactpaper. It’d be easier to keep them clean.”
“Surething.” What the hell is contact paper? I’ll just have her get the supplies sheneeds before coming to work tomorrow.
“Takea break and let’s eat. Do you like pizza?”
Agrin curls her lips. “Sounds better than peanut butter. Give me a minute towash up. Can I use your bathroom?”
“Youdon’t have to ask. Use whatever you need when you’re here.” I pull a pack ofpaper plates from the cabinet and dish up our pizza. Zoe returns and grabs twoglasses, filling them with ice before handing them to me to pour the soda. It’sall disturbingly domestic.
