“I didn’t think so.” He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a paper sack. “You don’t look like no tree hugger.”
Hope didn’t know if he was complimenting her or not, so she kept quiet.
“I hear you’re staying at the Donnelly place.”
“Yes, I am.”
“What are you going to do out there?”
That was the second time in two days she’d been asked that question. “Spend a relaxing summer.”
“My wife, Melba, was over at Dixie’s getting her hair kinked when Ada called from the Sandman saying you need some available men.”
“To clean the bats out of the house I leased,” she clarified. He subtotaled her purchases and she pulled a twenty from her wallet.
He looked at her closely and must have decided she was harmless, because he shook his head and smiled. “Yeah, that’s what Ada said.” He took her money, then counted out the change to her. “Too bad. I have a nephew working the mine up near Challis, and he sure could use an available woman. ‘Course, you don’t look like the kind of woman who’d be interested in Alvin.”
He’d piqued her curiosity and she asked, “What kind of woman is that?”
“A woman not in her right mind.” The ends of his mustache curled on his cheeks beneath his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. My name’s Stanley Caldwell. Me and my wife, Melba own this store, and if there’s something you need in the way of a special order, just let me know.”
“I will.” She took the paper sack. “Do you know where I can get a cappuccino?”
“Yep. Sun Valley.”
She’d never wanted a cappuccino bad enough to drive an hour for it. She thanked him anyway and left the market. Her Porsche was parked by the front doors and she dropped the sack on the passenger seat. As she pulled from the parking lot, she slipped a CD in the player, pumped up the volume, and sang along with Sheryl Crow. “Run baby run baby run,” she sang as she drove down the main street of Gospel and continued around the lake to Timberline Road. It was just after eight when she pulled into the driveway of the house she’d leased. It looked just as bad as it had the day before.
She wasn’t about to step foot inside until it was bat-free. Instead, she walked across the road and knocked on her neighbor’s door. A woman with red, curly hair and freckles, and wearing a blue chintz robe, answered. Hope introduced herself through the screen.
“Dylan said you might be coming by.” She held the door open and Hope entered a living room decorated with a profusion of tole painting. It was everywhere, on pieces of driftwood, old saw blades, and metal milk jugs. “I’m Shelly Aberdeen.” She wore big bunny slippers and could not have stood much over five feet.
“Did Sheriff Taber mention my problem with bats?”
“Yeah, he did. I was just about to wake up the boys. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll tell them what you need.”
She disappeared down a hall and Hope sat in a swivel chair next to the stone fireplace. From the rear of the house she heard a door open.
“Are you the one driving a Porsche?” Shelly called out.
“Yes.”
Silence and then, “Do you know Pamela Anderson or Carmen Electra?”
“Ahh, no.”
More silence and then Shelly reappeared. “Well, that’s a real disappointment to the boys, but they’ll help you out anyway.”
Hope rose. “How much do they usually make an hour? I don’t even know what the minimum wage is anymore.”
“Just pay them what you think is fair, then come back by around noon and I’ll make you lunch.”
Hope didn’t know what to think of the offer, other than it made her uncomfortable.
“I’ll make crab-stuffed pitas and we’ll get to know each other.”