Page 42 of Tangled Up

“I’m not grumpy.” His brow relaxes, and he lifts the leg on a stuffed witch. “You won’t be here for the chaos this stuff causes. Animals don’t like Halloween.”

“Okay,” she laughs, but his words hit me unexpectedly hard.

I don’t like the idea of her not being here. Which is illogical, since I’m not here either.

Turning to me, he hooks a thumb at the door. “Come on. I’ll buy you lunch. You earned it.”

We walk to the end of the strip mall where a pink pushcart with a pink and white striped umbrella is parked right at the edge of the sand.Chili Dog in Paradiseis painted on the side, and I arch an eyebrow.

“My hourly rates are a little higher than a hotdog.”

“Yeah, but I’m only a poor, small-town vet.” He chuckles, grasping my shoulder. “And you’re not going to believe how good these things are. I’m addicted.”

Shaking my head, I wait as he puts in an order for four Good and Evil dogs and two Landshark beers. It takes the guy less than five minutes to dip out what looks like ordinary hot dogs and put them onto ordinary white buns and top them with plain ole onions, relish, mustard, and ketchup.

“Still not seeing the draw.” My tone is flat.

“Just keep your shirt on.”

He hands me my food, and I follow him out to a picnic table under the public pavilion facing the shore. My stomach rumbles, and we tear into the dogs without much preamble.

As soon as the meat hits my mouth, a burst of salty, tangy goodness laced with heat makes me lean back with a groan.

“Damn.” I shake my head, putting it down. “What’s in this thing? Crack?”

Henry nods, grinning with his mouth full. “Told ya.”

We stuff our faces for a few minutes, and I take a break to sip my beer. “You win. That’s a damn good hot dog. What’s the secret?”

“That’s just it, nobody knows but the owner.”

“It’s like they’re marinated in some kind of brine, but the spice. It’s a subtle heat.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You sound like you’re on the food channel.”

“We should alert those guys. Or no!” I hold up both hands. “I know the drill—don’t alert anybody.”

“Right,” Henry laughs. “We already have too many tourists in Eden as it is.”

I glance around at the somewhat empty beaches. “Doesn’t look too different to me.”

“Yeah, but you should see this place in July.”

I pick up the other dog and polish it off in about four bites. It’s too good to savor. Then I lean back, watching the water as I finish my beer.

“So give it to me straight,” he interrupts. “Are you here for Carly?”

I lean forward, placing my beer on the table, and consider how I want to answer this. Henry’s known me since I was a teen, so it’s hard to lie convincingly. He already knew when I finally confessed my feelings for Carly, and when we were old enough, and I finally told him we were together, he was actually glad.

“You’re my best friend,” he’d said. “You’re a good guy, and she seems to like you, too. That’s what matters.”

It was so long ago, but the memories are clear as if they happened yesterday.

Then it all went to hell.

“I didn’t know she’d be here. I thought she’d be in Pensacola.” I watch the clear blue water roll onto the shore. “Remember when you used to talk about being a priest?”

“I’m not Catholic. I wanted to be a pastor.”

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