THE GLORY BUS 16 страница

She was gesturing to Norman to notice what was happening in the main seating area of the bus. Norman looked back into the hazy yellow glow.

Odd.

Scratch odd.

Weird.

The yellow drapes appeared to be rugs that had been fastened with silvery strips of duct tape to the frames of the bus’s windows.

Whooah, Mister Bus-driver Man takes his passengers’ eyesight seriously. He’s not exposing these suckers to the old retina-searing Mojave sun.

But what kind of passengers are these, anyway?

Norman frowned. Old people. Middle-aged. A young couple in tennis wear. A kid of around eight in a baseball cap, jeans and a T-shirt. There was a slogan there, half-hidden by the strap of a safety belt.

Odd.

& nbs

p; ‘I’ve been to Pits, ’ it read. ‘It Is the Pits. Pits—’ Something or other – he couldn’t read the rest.

And why did everyone sit so upright and so still? No one tried to peek out the covered windows. No one sneezed.

Coughed.

Not a fidget amongst them. And you always have at least one fidgeter on a bus.

Norman was still working out the freaky nature of the passengers when Boots piped up.

‘Sir. . . Oh, sir? Did you know that you got yourself a bus full of dummies? ’

The driver didn’t turn back. He kept his attention on the road.

Boots persisted. ‘Sir, there’s dummies sitting on the seats. ’

‘No talking to the driver while the bus is in motion, ma’am. Company policy. ’

Boots scrunched her shoulders with a smile of apology on her piglike face. ‘Oh, gee. I’m sorry. Just thought you should know, that’s all. ’

‘Boots, the guy’s gonna know, isn’t he? ’ Duke growled. ‘His bus, his business who rides in it. ’

‘I guess. ’ She fanned her face with a thick-fingered hand to cool it. ‘Looks kinda peculiar, don’t it, Normy? ’

Agree with Boots, and disagree with Duke?

Norman shrugged. ‘At least they’re not throwing peanuts at us. ’

Duke nodded as if those were wise words.

Boots chuckled and said, ‘I guess. ’

Norman’s eyes had all but recovered from the hell-glare of the desert sun. In the murky golden gloom of the old school bus he now began to make out its inanimate passengers a little more clearly. Dummies. All of them. Like the kind you’d find in clothes stores. Most modeled casual wear. Knit pullovers, Bermuda shorts, T-shirts (including one ‘girl’ mannequin who wore a white T-shirt with the slogan ‘I ate a Pitsburger and lived to tell the tale’). There was one mannequin dressed in a pinstriped suit and tie. He even wore gold-rimmed spectacles to make him look like a well-heeled executive.

‘Make great conversation, don’t they? ’ Norman observed.

The driver said nothing. Neither did Duke. To him this was a ride. That was all that mattered. Could have been chimpanzees back there dressed in Hawaiian shirts and tennis shorts. Wouldn’t have bothered him.

A ride is a ride, you dig?

Lowering her voice, Boots said to Norman: ‘They give me the willies. ’

Norman couldn’t resist saying, in a spooky whisper, ‘I see plastic people. ’

‘Oooh. ’ Boots elbowed him and gave a girly laugh. ‘You’re making me all goosefleshy. ’ She pointed at her breasts. ‘Just look at that. My nipples have gone all hard. ’

Her breasts jiggled under the tank top as the bus went over bumps in the road. Then Boots slipped her hand onto the inside of Norman’s thigh. She smiled up at him with what experienced people called ‘Come-to-bed eyes. ’

Oh no. . .

Norman felt himself getting hard against the confining fabric of his underpants.

Man, she’s so ugly. So piglike. Only she’s got a certain something that fires me up inside.

A cool, air-conditioned motel room would be pretty damn wonderful right now. Nude Boots. Lying on a bed. Stroking her stomach. Teasing strokes that worked down toward that magic zone of crisp hair and moist—

‘Ten more minutes, ’ the driver announced. ‘Then you folks can get yourselves some vittles. ’

He didn’t turn round. Didn’t say any more.

Norman turned away from hot, sweaty thoughts of a hot, sweaty (and naked) Boots to the view through the bus’s windshield. Still brush, mesquite and cacti. But more ravines and jagged piles of rock and mountains. Just as desolate as the desert. In fact, even more remote-seeming. The granddaddy of wilderness country.

Then, straight up ahead, a sign:

MAKE A PIT STOP AT PITS

IT’S REALLY THE PITS

PITS, CA, pop. 6

The T-shirt on the kid. Norman looked. The slogan blazoned across the chest read in part: I’VE BEEN TO PITS.

Norman thought: Looks like we’re heading to Pits, too.

Hell of a name. He ran his tongue over his lips.

Hell of a name.

Chapter Thirty-seven

That Friday afternoon was a busy one. Pamela had been waiting tables since noon. The weekend traffic had started early. Now there were plenty of people with appetites to satisfy and thirsts to quench. Everyone from truckers to vacationers.

Phew-ee. Hot work.

Yet satisfying, Pamela thought, as she served ice cream to a young couple with a child in a high chair. The two year old sat munching on a French fry. Once he’d yelled out loud. The little tyke had bitten into his own finger instead of the golden sliver of fried potato.

He was happy now, though. Already he had a dribble of strawberry ice cream on his chin.

At the counter Pamela met up with Nicki.

‘The Pitsburger Largesse is really flying today, ’ she said.

Nicki smiled warmly. ‘Yeah, and to think I never thought Zak had a tender side. ’

From the griddle Terry sang out, ‘Three Pitsburgers for table five. ’

‘This job’s going to keep me slim, ’ Pamela murmured. ‘I must walk five miles a day waiting tables. ’

‘You think you’re gonna stay? ’ Nicki’s expression was hopeful.

‘Just try and drag me away. ’ Pamela winked at her, then moved to where Terry had set three massive plates on the counter. Double meat patties turned the hamburgers into mini-skyscrapers. Surrounding those were fries, coleslaw, potato salad.

Even though I know what the dish of the day consists of I’m starting to feel hungry myself. Pamela lifted the plates onto the tray, then whisked them across to three guys in shirts and ties. They waited with eager anticipation for the delicious feast that was gliding their way in the hands of a beautiful girl.

There was a great tip coming her way. She could sense it.

As she took their appetizer dishes away Lauren intercepted her, a serious look in her eye.

‘Pamela, ’ she whispered by the counter. ‘Sharpe’s brought some people in. ’

Pamela experienced a sudden thrill. ‘He saved them? ’

Lauren nodded. ‘Look like teenagers. Two men and girl. ’

‘They’re okay? ’

‘They were stranded in the desert when their truck broke down. They’re tired. Very dehydrated. ’

‘Looks as if they could use some cold drinks. ’

‘And then some. ’

‘You want me to prepare a table? ’

‘The empty booth. I’ll need to talk to them when they eat. Find out their story, that kind of thing. ’

Pamela sensed a dizzying swirl of flashback. Just a few days ago it was me being brought to Pits. Saved from psycho Rodney by Sharpe.

‘You okay? ’ Lauren asked, concerned.

‘Oh, me? I’m fine. It’s just all so new. ’ She looked up at Lauren. ‘Do you think they’ve been in trouble? ’

‘They look pretty tired. Sharpe figures they’re running from something. ’ Lauren shrugged. ‘All they’ll say is that they were heading down to Las Vegas when they got lost, then their truck died from under them. ’

‘You think they might be lying? ’

‘Judge not, lest ye be judged. ’ Lauren gave a little smile. ‘That’s what the Good Book says, doesn’t it? ’

‘Wise words. ’ Pamela nodded.

‘We always take people as they are. It’s how they act and what they say now that defines their character. Not what they did to people or what people did to them in the past. ’ Lauren handed a menu to a plump old guy in a baseball cap. Clearly, in Lauren’s eyes, he looked like a man ready for dessert. ‘We’ve got a real nice fresh-baked apple pie, ’ she told the man.

‘Sounds sweet to me, ma’am. ’

‘Large slice, sir? ’

‘Absolutely. ’

‘Cream or ice cream? ’

‘Yes, please. ’

‘Apple pie, cream and ice cream. ’ Lauren wrote the order down on

her pad. ‘Table seven. Be right with you in a moment, sir. ’

‘Thank you, ma’am. And let me tell you, I’ve never eaten a hamburger like I’ve eaten here. Flavor’s out of this world. ’

‘Why, thank you, sir. I appreciate your feedback. ’

‘How d’you make ’em taste so good? Kinda sweet and savory at the same time. ’

‘Oh, our secret recipe, sir. ’

‘Secret, eh? ’ He chuckled. ‘You can tell an old man, my dear. ’

Lauren leaned over to whisper into the man’s ear. ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you and serve you to the customers. ’

The man threw back his head and laughed. ‘Ah, that’s rich, ’ he said, wiping his eyes. ‘Just you keep griddling up hamburgers like that, sweetheart, and I’ll keep coming back. ’

‘And you’re welcome anytime, sir. ’ Lauren beamed. ‘Now, I’ll get that apple pie. ’

‘And cream and ice cream. ’

‘Shan’t forget those, sir. ’

Lauren and Pamela left the man chuckling to himself.

‘Another happy Pits visitor, ’ Pamela observed.

‘And speaking of which, ’ Lauren nodded toward the cafe door, ‘here comes Sharpe with his three lost lambs. ’

Pamela turned to look at the trio as they walked through the doors.

Lost lambs?

Sharpe held the door open for them as they sauntered in, covered in desert dust and radiating a certain aura that Pamela found somehow disturbing.

She looked at each in turn.

First in: A girl of around eighteen but she looked a lot older. She had a wide face. Blunt features. Broad shoulders and hips. Short bleached hair. Clothes consisted of cutoff jeans with slits up the side that exposed a dimpled white skin that contrasted with sunburned lower legs. Her bare shoulders were exposed by a tight – over-tight – tank top. Her makeup needed refreshing. Looked on the heavy side, too. She carried a bulky denim bag.

What was most striking about her were the boots that she wore. Dirty white high-heeled, pointy-toed cowgirl boots from which a pair of stocky legs emerged.

Second in: A college boy for sure. Late teens. Looked unkempt, as if a nice, tidy kid had been sleeping in a field for week. He’d got nasty-looking bruises on his face.

Sheesh, what was his story?

Third in: A swaggering tough guy. Could have passed for a young Elvis. Beneath his blond, greasy swept-high hair a pair of shades rested on the bridge of his nose. Age? Might be a teen; certainly no more than twenty-one, Pamela guessed. He wore a muscle-hugging T-shirt that would have brought appreciative gasps from girls and jealous glances from guys. On his bottom half, oh-so-tight blue jeans that had faded in a kind of interesting way round the crotch and buttocks. Below the cuffs of the jeans she saw a pair of black motorcycle boots. Metal side-buckles winked at her in the late afternoon light.

Sweet Jesus, this is the template for a bad boy. The kind that good girls fall for.

The kind that girls’ dads hate.

That their moms secretly fancy.

But three lambs?

Hardly.

This threesome looked like trouble to Pamela.

But Pits policy, Lauren had said, was to treat everyone as if they were as innocent as newborn babes. Until they did something bad, that was.

Sharpe followed the trio in, then directed them to one of the booths along the wall. Nicki had got pitchers of iced water waiting on the counter ready. Pamela picked up a couple and weaved through the tables of customers to where the ‘three lost lambs’ had taken their seats. The girl and the college boy looked round at their surroundings.

The bad boy didn’t give a damn. He just stared at his fingernails. He was used to people coming to him with respect written large on their faces.

Sharpe remained standing by the table.

As Pamela walked up Sharpe indicated the three people with a gesture of his hand. ‘Pamela, ’ he said. ‘Allow me to introduce you to three new guests of ours. ’ He nodded at each in turn as he recited their names. ‘Boots, Norman, Duke. ’

Pamela didn’t get much of an opportunity to talk to them. They downed pitcher after pitcher of ice-cold water. Lauren took a seat beside the college boy. He was called Norman. Duke and the oddly named Boots sat opposite them at the booth table. Lauren chatted to them, then signaled to Pamela to take the order.

‘You must be hungry, ’ Pamela said. ‘What can I get you guys? ’

‘What’s good to eat here? ’ the bad boy called Duke asked, nonchalant as James Dean.

‘We’ve got a special today. Pitsburger Largesse. It comes with all the trimmings. ’

‘Oooh, ’ the girl with the boots called Boots cooed. ‘Sounds scrummy-diddly to me. What say you, boys? ’

‘I’ll have the Pitsburger Largesse, please. Thank you. ’ Norman was the polite, well-spoken one.

‘Got any beer? ’ Duke asked.

‘Bud. ’

‘Bud’s cool. Three Buds for me and my buds. ’

Pamela gave a polite laugh to indicate that she’d noticed the guy’s play on words.

But he didn’t laugh back. Did he even realize that he’d punned?

This one needs watching. He might be bad news for Pits.

Norman downed another glass of water, then said, ‘I’m afraid we don’t have much cash on us. And I lost my MasterCard when I—’

Lauren waved her hand as if to waft away his words. ‘Don’t worry about money. You’ve obviously been through an ordeal. This is our treat. ’

‘You don’t want us to pay? ’ Boots sounded dumbfounded.

‘No. ’

‘But you’ll want something in return? ’

‘Nothing. It’s the least we can do. ’

‘Mighty Christian of you, ’ Duke said.

‘Yeah, ’ Boots said. ‘Last so-called free meal I got left me with a bloody butt and pube lice. ’

Pamela saw that even Lauren gaped at the coarse confession.

‘Just shows, ’ Boots said, then sipped her water. ‘Not all preachers are gentlemen. ’

‘You can rest assured, ’ Lauren said firmly, ‘there’ll be nothing like that happening to you in Pits. ’

Boots shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have minded but the preacher promised me that God would—’

‘Boots, ’ Duke interrupted. ‘Let the lady take the orders. She’s too busy to hear the life story of your fanny. ’

Boots clammed up, looking hurt. Her face had the look of a badly wronged sow’s.

Pamela noticed that Norman looked uncomfortable, as if these two weren’t his companions of choice.

Talk about an odd couple.

These were an odd trio.

Pamela smiled her professional waitress smile. ‘So that’s three Pitsburgers Largesse and three beers. ’

Duke touched his eyebrow by way of salute. ‘Thank you, ma’am. ’

Pamela went to pass the order on to Terry. Then Nicki joined her at the counter.

Nicki whispered, ‘Three more for Pitsburgers? ’

‘Yup. ’

‘Looks as if Zak finally did something useful in life. Well. . . ’ She smiled. ‘You know what I mean. ’

‘Yeah, for everyone else it’s the grave that’s inevitable. Zak wound up in the gravy. ’ Then Pamela became serious. ‘Nicki? ’

‘Uh-huh? ’

‘Those three that Sharpe brought in. ’

‘Oh, yeah, I haven’t had a chance to say hello yet. ’

‘I don’t want to put three strangers down, but. . . ’ Pamela shrugged. ‘There’s something kinda unsettling about them. ’

‘Believe me, Pamela, there was something unsettling about all of us when we first arrived here. I screamed for a fix for three weeks solid. ’

‘Yeah, but these guys are—’

‘Shh, honey. Don’t fret. They’ll be fine. ’

Nicki hurried away to refill a diner’s coffee cup.

Under her breath Pamela muttered, ‘Gee, I hope they’ll be fine. Something tells me there ain’t a cop for miles around. ’

Moments later Terry was flipping some more of those pink Pitsburgers on the skillet.

Human flesh sizzles just like a cow’s, Pamela told herself. If only the three strangers knew what – or whom – they were eating.

From deep down came an additional thought: Somehow, looking at those three, I don’t think they’d give a damn.

Chapter Thirty-eight

‘Who’d they say this trailer belonged to? ’ Boots asked as she walked into the lounge area with a huge fluffy white towel round her body and another swathing her head.

Duke shrugged. ‘Who cares? ’ He lit a cigarette and sprawled back on the sofa.

Blew smoke at the ceiling.

Thinking.

I get uneasy when Duke starts thinking, Norman told himself. The guy’s planning something.

Illegal.

Lethal?

Boots took her ease in a black leather armchair. It was old. Worn. Still comfortable, though. Norman sat in its twin by a picture window that looked out toward a cemetery. A real Boot Hill.

Probably a few outlaws sleeping with their boots on up there.

And speaking of boots. . .

Boots frowned. ‘Didn’t Lauren say this trailer belonged to someone by the name of Valeria? ’

‘Valdemar, ’ Norman corrected her. ‘Lauren said it belonged to a Gregor Valdemar but he moved on two years ago. ’

‘Shoot. Leave a lovely place like this? I could make my home here, couldn’t you, Duke? ’

‘I don’t take root in any one spot. I move around. ’

‘I’ve moved around too much, ’ Boots said.

‘Well, I guess we need to keep moving, ’ Norman said. He watched as Boots bent forward from where she sat on the sofa. She examined a small blister on her little toe where her beloved footwear had rubbed.

Bending had loosened the towel.

Norman saw soft white cleavage.

Hmmm. . .

Those old thoughts were coming back.

‘I’m all for moving on, ’ Duke said, then blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. ‘Eventually. ’

‘Oh, Dukey, that sounds good to me. We can rest here awhiles. ’

‘But the cops—’ Norman began.

‘You worry too much, bud. ’

‘Besides, I can’t see no cops coming to a little place like this. ’ Boots examined her other foot. One of her boobs flopped out. ‘Oops, ’scuse me, fellas. ’

Duke grinned. ‘Our pleasure. ’

‘You guys ready to shower? That water’s awful nice after days on the road. ’

‘Sounds good to me. ’ Duke stood up, with a yawn. ‘Might hit the sack soon, too. ’

Boots pulled at the towel to make sure she was covered. ‘Wasn’t it nice of these folks to give us the trailer home? It’s so big. And there’s a refrigerator and a stove and e

verything. ’

‘They seem like good folks, ’ Duke said. ‘We should stick around and make sure we show our appreciation. ’

Duke made the remark seem ominous.

‘Okay, shower time. ’ He left the lounge area.

Boots removed the towel from her head and then rubbed her jaw with it, moaning a little with pleasure at its softness.

Norman looked out the window.

Didn’t want to make it seem like he was looking at her bare legs. That towel only just covered her broad rump.

Some rump, too.

His heart beat faster.

Those moaning sounds. She made those when I reamed her.

Oh boy.

Duke’s in the shower.

Now we’re alone again. She’s making those sounds. Oh no.

I’m getting a hardy.

Any second she’s going to notice. How come part of me finds her repulsive, piglike? But then another part, a part getting bigger by the second, finds her soooo sexy. . . Soooo desirable. . .

Norman was suspicious at the way his emotions made these crazy swings from lust to disgust.

He stared out the window like he was enjoying the sunset. His eyes focused on the cemetery on the rise of land. At the top was a freaky-looking house. Just like the Bates house that overlooked the Psycho motel. Kind of place that had ghosts in the attic.

Vampires in the cellar.

Zombies in between.

Then, behind the house, glowing with a deep and bloody red, was a range of rocky hills.

Gee, funny little place. Pits. Population six. Lauren looked like a hippie. Sharpe, the guy who drove them in on the freak bus full of store dummies, could have passed for a cop on his day off, or even a Marine on leave. Then there were the waitresses at the cafe. Pamela and Nicki. They were a toothsome twosome.

Sexy.

Briefly Norman imagined himself in bed with the pair of them.

Oh, yes. . .

He shifted in the leather armchair as the blood ran hot in his veins.

How about a nice sandwich with those two?

With me as the salami filling.

More meat than you can eat, girls.

Blood surged into his groin. It ached.

‘Normy? ’

‘Yes? ’

Boots’s eyes sparkled. ‘I know whatcha thinking about. ’

‘You do? ’

‘You’re thinking hot, sexy thoughts. ’

‘I am? ’

‘And you’re thinking ’em about me. ’

Norman looked at her. After the shower she did look good, he had to admit that. Her short hair was fluffed. Her skin was clean. A fresh smell filled the lounge from her recently showered body.

‘Duke’s gonna be some time in the shower yet. ’

‘I guess. ’

‘Norman, you’ve been really sweet to me. You’ve taken care of me. ’

‘I do my best. ’

‘You’re not like other guys. ’

Well, you could take that two ways. But Norman took it as a compliment.

‘Thank you. Just doing my job, ma’am. ’

‘Now you sound like a cop. ’

‘That’s me, ma’am. Officer Norman Wiscoff, reporting for duty. ’

‘Is that a fact? ’ Boots scrunched up her shoulders.

Yup, no doubting it.

Her smile was sexy.

Norman let his stare roam over her bare legs to where they vanished beneath the fluffy towel.

Hmm. . . she did look good.

‘I think the sofa looks more comfortable. ’ She went to it.

Lay back flat. Her head was raised on cushions.

Norman stood up. Walked toward her. Some little bit of him found her sexually exciting. And that little bit was growing all the time.

He stood over her.

Boots made a pretend sad face. ‘You’re not here to arrest me, are you, officer? ’

‘I think you might be carrying a concealed weapon, ma’am. ’

‘Then you oughta do your duty, officer. ’

Reaching down, Norman whipped open her towel.

Exposed.

A milky expanse of body. Her breasts had firmed. Nipples hard, pointing.

He groaned under his breath. He was so aroused that it hurt.

So he unzippered.

Unbelted.

Undressed.

Oh God, here I am again. Naked with Boots. I think mean thoughts about her but when we’re naked together. . . I can’t stop myself. This is lust. I’ve gotta have her.

Norman knelt down on the floor beside the sofa. He buried his face between her breasts. Began kissing her nipples. Tonguing them.

Then he made love to her.

Five minutes later Duke walked into the lounge area. Shower-wet hair. Wearing nothing but blue jeans.

He gazed down at the pair of them locked together. His face was expressionless.

Norman looked up at him over his shoulder. Boots looked up at him from her supine position.

Norman knew that it seemed kinda absurd to be still pumping away at Boots.

But both of them were on the cusp of orgasm. He couldn’t stop himself. So he went for the finishing line, thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster into Boots’s warm, moist slickness. Her body convulsed.

Then both of them climaxed in a rucking, bumping, grinding chorus of squeals from Boots and panted ‘YESSES! ’ from Norman.

Duke still stared down at them as they stopped moving and their cries subsided to post-climactic panting sounds.

‘I’ve gotta plan, ’ Duke told them, just as if he’d found Boots and Norman doing nothing more than reading magazines. ‘This place Pits. . . we’re gonna make it ours. ’

Chapter Thirty-nine

Lauren showed the three newcomers around. Pamela went along too, at Lauren’s request.

‘It’ll be dark soon, ’ Lauren told them. ‘So it’s gonna be a short tour, I’m afraid. ’

‘That’s just fine, ’ Boots said. ‘I’m about all done walking. ’

‘Thank you for showing us strangers your hometown. ’ This was the bad boy, Duke. He spoke respectfully.

A little too respectfully for Pamela’s liking.

Or am I just naturally suspicious now?

Hardly surprising after a guy marries you – and he’s already married. Then a creep you know from school kills your pseudo-husband, burns down your home, then tries to kill you.

Those life experiences make a girl sorta wary.

Lauren walked a little ahead while Pamela walked with the three strangers past the sprawl of trailer homes. Boots had an odd quality. Naive yet worldly at the same time. She wore lots of makeup but took a childlike delight in the things she saw.

Norman had a hunted look in his eye. He had education. Probably came from a wealthy family, too. His casual clothes and footwear looked expensive.

Duke swaggered like the young Elvis. He was cool, confident. Possessed an air of danger. Pamela guessed that nothing fazed him.

Seen all, done all. Still got a taste for more.

He lit a cigarette with a flourish.

Guy acts like he owns the world.

Lauren pointed. ‘This is Pits’s cemetery. ’

‘Looks like something out of a Wild West show, ’ Boots commented.

‘This was a frontier town in its heyday. Folk moved out when the mines closed. ’ Lauren nodded at two acres of dust where old wooden crosses leaned this way and that with tumbleweed and cacti for company. ‘No one’s been buried in there for years. Except dogs and monkeys, that is. ’

‘Monkeys? ’ Norman echoed.

‘Owner of the house up there used to own a whole menagerie of monkeys. ’

Duke gazed through the gathering dusk at the old house with its decaying shutters. ‘Who lives there now? ’

‘Oh, no one. ’

‘Big house. Looks as if it could be valuable. ’

‘I guess, ’ Lauren said. ‘If you were prepared to sink a whole hill of ca

sh into restoring it. ’

‘So, no monkeys there now? ’ Boots sounded disappointed.

‘Not one. Well, no live ones, that is. Hank tells me there’s still a couple of stuffed ones up there in the attic. ’

‘Cool, ’ Norman said.

‘Who’s Hank? ’ Duke asked.

‘The mayor of Pits, ’ Pamela answered. ‘He’s around somewhere. ’

Duke’s eyes narrowed. ‘And you say there’s only seven people who live in Pits? ’

‘Yup, ’ Lauren said, with a smile. ‘That’s if we include Pamela, and she might be just passing through. But we’re optimistic about our population growing. ’

‘I hope it does, ma’am. ’ Duke nodded. ‘Looks a nice town. ’

‘We like it. ’

They walked to the cemetery but stopped short of continuing on to the old house on the hill. Then they backtracked to the cafe.

Lauren opened the door for them. ‘While we’ve no customers at the moment we might as well grab the opportunity of meeting the Pits people under one roof. ’

They filed in.

‘Looks like the whole town turned out to meet us, guys, ’ Boots said. She was beaming at the younger men – Terry and Wes – and especially at Sharpe. Sharpe was as smartly dressed as ever in a crisp white shirt and chinos. He was clean-shaven.

Then there was the old-timer, Hank. He didn’t get a second glance from Boots in his weather-beaten clothes and stained hat.

Boots stroked her hair.

Fiddled with the strap of her tank top.

Drawing attention to her unfettered breasts beneath the fabric.

Got an eye for the men, haven’t you, girl?

All of Pits was there – all seven of them. The guys sat on stools with their backs to the counter so that they faced the new folk in town. With the exception of Sharpe, they drank bottles of Bud.

Sharpe hefted a glass of water.

He had his Mission. There was no place for alcohol in his life.

Nicki sat at the table nearest the counter.

Lauren introduced the three. ‘Ladies and gentlemen of Pits, I’d like to introduce you to Boots. ’

Boots gave a little curtsy.

Elegant it wasn’t.

‘And these are Duke and Norman. ’

The Pits people said ‘Hi, ’ ‘Pleased to meet you’ and so forth. They were friendly, smiled. They were genuinely pleased to have visitors, Pamela realized.

Lauren indicated Hank, in his prospector’s clothes and with a face shriveled like a sun-dried plum. ‘And this is Hank. Mayor of Pits. ’

‘Pleased to meetcha. You look like real fine people. ’ He winked at Boots. ‘Especially you, mademoiselle. A real peach, if I might say so? ’

Boots fluttered her hand in front of her face as if it was a fan and she was a southern belle being courted by an old-money gentleman. ‘Why, thank you. ’

Lauren said, ‘Seeing as it’s near to closing time anyway, what say you we have ourselves a little reception party for our new guests? Nicki, will you get the drinks? I’ll set out some snacks. Oh, Pamela? ’

‘Yes? ’

‘Would you turn off the cafe sign and lock the door? ’

‘I’m right on it. ’

Soon everyone was chugging down bottles of beer.

Except Sharpe.

He still favored water.

If anything, he was the only one who retained his cool reserve. Everyone else was smiling. Lauren stood real close to Sharpe several times.

Showing Boots that they were a couple.

So hands off. He’s mine.

Norman looked a little tipsy on the beer. He smiled a lot at Nicki. Her blonde Nordic beauty had caught his eye. She smiled back politely.

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