“You coming, kid?”
“Not right now,” I said, enjoying the evening air and the slow rock of the chair beneath me. It was easy to understand during times like these the old adage—the world is your front porch. “You go ahead.”
Mitch whistled. Delilah and Sampson hustled down the stairs, going straight for the grass in the front yard. Jet hissed at them in passing but stopped when Mitch bopped her on the head.
“Be good, you heathen,” he said, “or I won’t share my cake with you.”
Sampson and Delilah were meant to replace Mitch in the security department. But I wasn’t foolish enough to think that Brando left me without a human or two close by. Nino and Guido were around the house; I could hear their laughter close by.
After doing their business and sniffing around enough to find nothing of interest, both dogs came to rest beside the chair, one on each side of me. Both of them were panting, long pink tongues hanging out—Sampson had a small leaf stuck to his—but their lowered eyes showed nothing but bliss at being out in the open air.
The sun had sunk enough that the world was precariously balanced between light and dark. Shadows started to creep closer. Night was about to close in.
Both dogs’ ears pricked in unison, and their heads raised at attention minutes before the rumble of a muscled motorbike made it to me.
Not sufficiently educated in the different kinds of motorbikes out there, all I knew was that it was a hog, and the handlebars were long, like longhorns. The rider had a handkerchief tied around his head to keep his shoulder-length black hair from invading his face.
Sampson and Delilah both stood, lowering their heads, their hackles rising at the noise and at the newcomer. Once the man turned off the bike and stepped off, they took two steps forward.
“Bleib,” I whispered to the dogs. It was the German command for “stay”— it sounded more like blibe. If I told them tofass!each dog would have an arm, playing tug of war with this man. I had seen them do it once with a snake, right before an almightypop!separated the serpent into two parts.
The man’s boots crunched as he came toward me. He lowered his glasses to see me better. I couldn’t place him, but somehow he seemed vaguely familiar to me.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
He smiled, showing a set of perfect teeth that only seemed to enhance his rugged appearance. His skin was weathered from time out on the road. He had a solid build, only a bit paunchy around the belt.
“Damn, girl,” he said, smiling even wider at me. “You are the most refined creature I’ve ever seen. Who are you?”
“Who areyou?”
“You’re even polite when you want to be rude.” He patted the top of his head and then took another step forward.
Sampson and Delilah growled low in their throats. They had to stay put, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t voice their dislike.
The tactic worked. The man put his hands up, took slow steps backward, closer to his bike. From behind me, Brando gave them the command to come, and they ran to him and into the house, probably going to find Eunice for a treat.
Brando left them to it, coming to stand behind me, setting a warm hand on my shoulder. “Sam,” Brando nodded. “You’re here for Mitch.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, coming closer. “I heard my boy was in some trouble. Thought I’d see what’s to do.”
“Trouble.” Brando’s dark, expressive eyebrows narrowed. “He lost half of his left leg, Sam. He almost died.”
“Well,” this Sam said, taking a moment to think this over. “Does he still have his two arms? One leg?”
“Yeah,” Brando said.
“Then he’ll be all right. Where is he?”
“Inside.”
Sam nodded, a solemn set to his countenance, which seemed to be the natural set to his face. “This your woman?” He chucked his chin in my direction.
“This is my wife,” Brando said. “Scarlett. Scarlett, this is—”
“Pop?” Mitch said, wheels squeaking against the marble in the house. “How’d you find me?”
Brando and I moved to the side to let Mitch and his father see each other. Mitch’s face lit at the sight of him, but I could also feel the wariness.
