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“Oh my God. Will you just get out of here? It’s the crazy man who doesn’t like me feeding the cats. That’s all. Come on.”

“Is he dangerous? Has he hurt you?”

“No, of course not. He’s about a hundred and three and can barely see. But I don’t want to deal with him tonight. I want to go. So come on.”

“Fine.” He moved with her toward the truck just as the man grew close.

“I can see you. I’m going to report you to the police,” he yelled out, waving his walking stick in the air.

“I know, I know, Mr. C. You have every right to report me for feeding the cats. Now, why don’t you go back inside before you trip over something, or you can’t find your way back in?”

“Don’t you talk to me with sass, young lady. I know perfectly well how to get back to my own house, where I will be calling the police on you.”

“Okay, Mr. C., you do that.”

“Feeding all those cats is illegal. You shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Bye.”

Ammo opened the door for her and she scrambled inside. He turned to look at the old man. He was dressed in a ratty, old brown dressing gown and shuffled along with his walking stick.

Definitely not a danger to her, so he decided to let him be. Was he really the reason she came out at night?

Getting into the truck, he turned to look at her.

“Do you always run or hide from your problems?”

11

Atendril of hurt unfurled inside her.

What did he mean? She didn’t run from all of her problems, did she?

Okay, so it didn’t look that great tonight, but the only one she’d really run from had been Mr. C., right?

Oh, and then there was Yvonne.

“Not all my problems.” She hadn’t run from Charlie.

Of course, she probably should have.

So in a way, she guessed she had run and hid. Just not physically.

The same way she was hiding from her financial issues now, by not opening her mail.

Crap.

“Fine. Sometimes I do tend to run or hide from my problems. It’s something I have to work on, but not tonight. I can’t deal with anything more tonight.”

She expected an argument or for him to tell her everything that she’d done wrong. She kind of thought he might start scolding her, but instead, he started up the truck and pulled away from the curb.

Mr. C. was still standing there, waving his walking stick. She hoped he got inside all right.

“You come here in the dark to avoid him?”

“Yeah. Not because I’m worried he’ll hurt me or anything. But he gets so upset. Maybe I should have taken him back inside his house.”

Ammo glanced in the rearview mirror. “He’s headed back that way now. We’ll go around the block and just double-check that he’s off the street.”