In the city, there was always noise: the low thrum of traffic, horns blaring, people shouting to one another across sidewalks, the rhythmic beat of subway cars underground. Her hand shook slightly as she pulled crisp bills from her pocketbook for Lou’s tip.
She took a slow, measured breath.
It wasn’t completely silent. There were birds calling from the trees and some kind of insect clicking invisibly in the grass. In the distance, an animal let out a low groan, and Honey instinctively flinched.
Lou took the cash from her outstretched hand. In the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses, she saw a warped version of herself: hair frizzing at the temples from the humid air,blazer clinging awkwardly to one side. She looked like a woman who’d just stepped off a spaceship and realized she’d landed on the wrong planet.
“Good luck, lady,” Lou said. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was deadly sincere, which somehow made it worse.
Still, she squared her shoulders and reached for the handle of her suitcase. Lou whipped his car around and peeled off like he couldn’t wait to get back to the city.
Before the dust even settled, a chicken strutted by. It paused no more than six feet away.
It was plump, rust-colored, and mean-looking, with beady amber eyes that locked directly onto hers like it was assessing a threat. Or a snack.
Honey took a few steps backward.
The chicken fluffed its feathers with a dramatic shake, and tilted its head in that unnerving bird way, staring straight up at her like it could see into her soul and didn’t much care for what it found.
She wasn’t afraid of animals, exactly. It was simply preparedness that had her yanking her brand-new hardshell suitcase closer, clutching it against her thighs like a shield should the chicken decide to launch a sudden attack. It was an evolutionary instinct that made her take a step backwards. Certainly not fear.
The chicken blinked one eye. Then the other. Then it took a step toward her. Honey gasped, backing up half a pace before remembering she was a grown woman with a college degree and a job to do.
“Shoo,” she said, with what she hoped was authority.
The chicken did not shoo. In fact, it took another step forward with its chest puffed.
She stomped herfoot.
“Shoo!” she said again, louder this time, waving one hand at it.
The chicken blinked.
And stayed put. Apparently, chickens in this town had the same brand of shameless bravado as subway rats.
A woman appeared from the side of the house, adjusting the bandana covering her silver curls.
“Excuse me,” Honey called out. “Could you help me?”
The woman clucked and trudged over to scoop the chicken under her arm. She took Honey in from head to toe and frowned. “You lost, sweetheart?”
Honey glanced down at her outfit, feeling very out of place in her sharp blazer and pants. When she’d gotten into Lou’s cab, she’d applauded herself for swapping out her signature sensible heels for Mary Janes. Not even out of the city yet and she was already proving to be flexible, she’d thought.
“I have an appointment with a Mr. Ethan Hale. Is he your…” She tried to work out the possible relation between this woman and the man who had texted her so rudely.
“Neighbor. Marlene Glasgow. I live just over that way.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “He should be inside getting the girls off to school.”
“Thank you.” Honey gave a small smile and a dip of her chin. “And thank you for your help with the…” She stared at the creature still tucked under Marlene’s arm. “Chicken situation.” Straightening her blazer, she made her way to the front porch.
“Hold on a sec, hun,” Marlene called out. “A bit of advice, if you’re who I think you are.”
Honey paused. “And who might that be?”
“A Fed.”
“I’m with the Compliance Bureau.”
“Same thing in his book.”
