Well, at least no unexpected cars sat parked in the front yard. No well-meaning coworkers barging into his life, demanding he celebrate a worthless-assed birthday.
But a neighbor’s grill scented the neighborhood with cooking meat, making his mouth water. Ah, what he wouldn’t give for a good, juicy, homecooked burger.
He checked the mailbox by the curb. Bill, bill, junk mail, a “Welcome to the Neighborhood” flyer. Jeez, they’d only been living here four months.
The expected envelope lay at the bottom of the pile, postmarked Spokane, Washington. He tore the envelope open and yanked out a card, with some mushy sentiment on the front about him being a great big brother. Lies! His sister signed like she always did: Love, Charlotte, Ty, and Todd. At the bottom she’d added: Can I tell the boys you’re still alive now?
No. Because they might tell Mama and Daddy, and Lucky wasn’t ready to deal with their cold shoulders all over again. Better off for them to believe him dead.
The envelope contained the annual picture of Charlotte and the boys. She’d dyed her hair auburn, but otherwise she hadn’t changed much since last year. Both sons towered over her. They’d gotten their height from their dad, their one gift from the abusive bastard. Maybe Lucky should finally change out the picture on his work desk, taken while she’d been pregnant with Ty.
The water bill came to William Patrick Schollenberger III, while the electric bill came to Simon Harrison. One day soon, Lucky’d change his name back to Richmond Eugene Lucklighter, since everyone he hid from knew exactly where to find him.
He trudged up the steps and opened the lock. At least the keypad worked. He listened at the door. Nothing. The hair on the back of his neck rose. Something wasn’t right. No alarm. He’d set the damned thing when he’d left for the gym.
Having a dog didn’t help much. The only threat Moose posed was knocking a thief to the floor and drooling on them. But still, the beast usually ran to the front door the moment a car pulled up.
Using his body to hide his gun from the nosy neighbors, he pulled his .38 from his gym bag and crept inside. Never leave home without firepower.
Nothing out of place. Footsteps approached fast, a blur speeding across the floor. Oh shit! He braced.
The shape hit him full on. Down he went. The gun landed out of reach, and the mail scattered across the floor. Lucky struggled, but couldn’t avoid the big beast’s tongue swiping half his face.
“Damn it, Moose. Haven’t we told you not to jump on people?” A long string of drool inched dangerously close to his eye. Lucky turned his head in the nick of time.
Moose whined and snuffled Lucky’s hair.
“All right, all right, you win!” He scratched Moose’s furry ear.
On the couch a few feet away, Cat Lucky watched the show.
Lucky struggled out from under roughly ninety pounds of half-grown dog. He hauled himself to his feet and did his best to amble into the kitchen without tripping over a meowing cat or getting knocked over by an energetic bundle of white fur.
He opened a can of the cat food Bo insisted was better for Lucky Cat than tuna, and poured enough dog food into a bowl to feed a young elephant—or a Great Pyrenees. Moose ran across the kitchen floor and slammed into the bowl, sending brown bits skittering across the tile.
By the time Lucky got the broom, the problem would solve itself. If only other problems went away if ignored.
Crunch, crunch, crunch, came from Moose, whileGrwwmmmm… came from Cat Lucky.
With the pets fed, it was time to find some human dinner. Lucky rambled through the freezer, sorting through plastic containers of spaghetti and hash. Down to four. Bo better come back from undercover soon before Lucky resorted to eating his own cooking. His frozen pizza and outdoor grilling skills were okay. The rest, not so much.
Taking a container of spaghetti to the microwave, he dodged the four-legged vacuum cleaner hoovering up Purina. With the last crunch, his whining began.
“Okay, okay. I’ll let you out.”
The fluffy plume of Moose’s tail swatted Lucky all the way to the door. How uncomplicated his life had been before acquiring a partner and two, as Bo put it, fur kids.
But he’d been lonely too, even if he hadn’t admitted his loneliness at the time. While he didn’t normally celebrate birthdays, Bo had spoiled him for not wanting to be alone. Johnson hadn’t even wanted to go a few rounds at the gym, saying she had shopping to do. Instead, Lucky pumped iron with a skinny little weasel of a man eyeing his backside.
Well, at least he had a dog and cat for company, and a load of chores to occupy his time. Like fixing the garage door. He opened the new sliding glass door he’d installed shortly after buying the place. Both cat and dog barreled out into the backyard.
“Surprise!”
Shit! Lucky grabbed the deck rail with one hand and his chest with the other.
His work partner better lay off the lies. Loretta Johnson stood at the grill, flipping burgers. Walter and Mrs. Smith sat in lounge chairs. Mrs. Griggs, Lucky’s former landlady, loaded food from a box onto the picnic table Bo insisted on buying and Lucky argued they’d never use.
Moose, the traitor who hadn’t barked, made a beeline for Johnson’s kid.
