Page 50 of Mace

Chapter Sixteen

Imogen

“This is nice.”

Mace kicked down the kickstand and killed the engine. “It will do for the next couple of days.”

“Thank you again for finding a place for us to stay.” I had been so worried about calling my grandma and wondering if we were going to find the papers we needed that I hadn’t even thought about where we were going to stay.

Mace had thought of it, and we had just pulled up to our rental for the next three nights.

“Rayna actually found it for me. I just gave her my credit card and told her to book it.”

I slid off the bike and took off my helmet. “I’ll make sure to thank Rayna for the next time I see her.”

We walked up to the front door, and Mace entered the keycode on the lock.

“I just want to check in with Dorothy at work, and then we can head to my grandma’s. I figure we should start there first.” I had thought about calling the hospital to ask about the papers we were looking for, but I didn’t want to get my grandma in trouble if I didn’t have to. I knew my grandma was a bit of a hoarder, and I was hopeful she had hidden the papers somewhere.

“I’m gonna grab the rest of our stuff from the bike.” Mace headed back outside, and I flopped onto the plush couch.

I was still vibrating from the bike, and it was nice to sit without hurtling down the highway. I pulled out my phone and called Dorothy.

“Brooks Crematorium. How can I help you today?” Dorothy rattled off.

“Could you get six Elvis impersonators to lower my husband’s casket into the ground?” I asked.

“Well, that all depends on if your husband is imaginary, or you’re telling me you and Mace stopped off to get married, and you’re already sick of him.”

A laugh bubbled from my lips. “Come on. I can never trick you.”

“That’s because I know your voice, Imogen, even when you’re trying to find Elvis impersonators. You need to find a new bit,” Dorothy laughed. “So,” she drawled. “How was your road trip with the sexy biker?”

“We made it. Mace rented a place for us for the next few days.” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t even think of where we were going to stay while we were here.”

“The sexy biker saves the day again.”

I glanced out the window and watched Mace grab my small bag from the saddlebag. “Yeah, he’s pretty good at taking care of me.”

“Which you need.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” I muttered.

“You don’t, but it’s nice to have. I need to find me a Mace.”

“I saw Brad last night.”

Dorothy scoffed. “No, thank you. Been there, done that. The man cared more about himself than he did me.”

“You went out one time with him, Dorothy, and you got upset because you told him you didn’t want another drink, so he didn’t get you one.”

“Who does that?” Dorothy demanded. “He should have known that one lemon drop martini is not enough. He’s a bartender for god’s sake.”

“Yes, not a mind reader.”

“Whatever,” Dorothy grumbled. “The man should have known I wanted another one and just said I didn’t so I didn’t look like a lush.”

“The man is a bartender, Dorothy; he’s surrounded by lushes.”

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