She’s kidding herself if she thinks I believe a word of that.
Hot date? In this town? Not happening.
Plus, she practically choked on the sentence as she spoke, doubt flickering in those tempestuous eyes.
“I’ll be seeing you,” I promise her as she turns away from me.
I’m getting out of this cell one way or another…
Charges be damned.
3
Kenzie
I’ve listened to this guy drone on for, I check my phone, thirty-two… thirty-three… minutes about his collection of bear teeth. Apparently, it’s hard to find one in the wild that isn’t on the bear. He’s very proud of his accomplishments at finding sixteen incisors, molars, and canines since he was four years old. And I estimate that was four decades ago. And I now know more about bear teeth than I ever wanted to.
Larry Gouch is his name, and I really don’t want my name to be Kenzie Diane Gouch. Plus, he’s twenty years older than me.
He could be my…
Don’t think it.
My mother’s really never talked about my father so I really don’t know much about him past a name. The only thing I know is he left an indelible mark on Barb Miller. One that has shaped who I am and given me a healthy —or unhealthy according to some people— fear of men and their ulterior motives.
The thought brings the guy from the jail back into my head. He’s been taking up space there for a while today. He was interesting.
Possibly dangerous.
And definitely off limits.
His smoothed back hair, his leaning casually and holding onto the bars, just to flex his toned arms, and that crooked smile all screamed player to the nth degree to me.
But still, there was something about him…
Larry holds out his phone. “And this one… it’s an incisor from a matureblackbear. These puppies are highly rare. I estimate that it’ll fetch two hundred thousand at an auction. Maybe a million.”
Pretty sure that Larry’s good at overestimating things. Like how much I’m enjoying this conversation, the trajectory of this relationship, and the size or value of personal property and desire of others wanting said property.
I yawn and check my phone again.
Only thirty-four minutes? How is that possible?
If Mom was here, which she tried her hardest to be, she’d be oohing and aahing about every single tooth like they were diamonds. But that’s exhausting. The only way I could stop her from coming and making Larry my third stepdad was to agree to not ditch the Gouch and sit here through a three-course meal at the Whole Hog Restaurant at the end of Main Street. The meal was fine, dessert is always a highlight, and Larry’s already put his bank card on the bill, insisting that he’s a gentleman and he has to pay. I’m not arguing.
But there’s no burning fire here. There’s not even a tiny spark. Heck, I don’t see a match… literally.
He stands, “Gotta hit the head. You know, take a pi—”
“Yes, I know, Larry.”Nice.
“When I get back out, we’ll talk about what we want to do next. Maybe you could come see my collection,” his thick fingers trail under my chin, “up close.”
Oh… my… God.
I pull a tight smile but say nothing. And this would be my life for the next twenty years. I grab my coat, but before I can slide out of the booth, someone slides in on the other side.
“Hey, cherry,” the guy from the jail says and those two words are dripping in all kinds of implications, an invitation and a warning.