Runaway Mistress by Robyn Carr Page A

wore pants that hung low on his butt, his boxers sticking out, and the hems that dragged over his shoes were frayed. His T-shirt had a couple of holes in it and a ball cap stuck out of one pocket.
    “So, what are you two up to? You’re early for work.”
    “I thought we might split a sandwich and do some homework. Then Max goes to work, too, and I’m all yours. I can stay out of your way, or you can go home early.”
    “Where do you work, Max?”
    His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear. “I wash dogs? Next door at Terry’s?” He said it like a question. “Till about six?”
    “Wow,” she said. “What a fun job.”
    “They poop in the tub sometimes?”
    “So,” she said, temporarily at a loss. How do you respond to something like that? “You have to be flexible in this job.”
    He liked that. He grinned largely and slipped his arm around Hedda’s waist. He had straight, white teeth. “Yeah. Gonna be a vet.” No question mark that time.
    “Good for you. So, let’s get that lunch,” she said. “You have to keep up your strength. Never know what you’re going to find in the bathwater.”
    “Yeah,” he laughed.
    She served them up a nice big sandwich along with plenty of chips and pickles. It seemed a good idea to take care of them a little. It was impossible to know if Max was so thin because he was hungry, or because he was sixteen. And she wondered if it would be inappropriate for her to ask Hedda how serious they were. Her mother, Sylvia, was so young, it implied a teen pregnancy. She would hate to see Hedda get caught in the same trap her mother had.
    Of course, Jennifer knew how to take care of that little problem.
    But no, she cautioned herself. Can’t get too personal with someone else’s kid. It was just that Hedda was growing on her. It was like looking in an old mirror. And she had long ago developed her habit of trying to keep the vulnerable safe.
    There were just a few people left from the lunch crowd when Max went to his job and Hedda found her apron and covered up her multicolored hair. Buzz had disappeared with a couple of bags of takeout for his personal meals-on-wheels program, and now he was back. Even though she was sure he wouldn’t mind about the free lunch for Hedda and Max, she felt compelled to tell him.
    “You take good care of the girl,” he said. “That’s never a problem here.”
    “I swear, I don’t know how you make ends meet.”
    “It’s a challenge sometimes, but we always make do. Somehow.”
    “I’ll sweep the sidewalk before I leave. Okay, boss?”
    He leaned on the counter. “You’re a good girl, Doris, even if you do your hair funny.”
    “Thanks, boss,” she laughed.
    The sidewalk didn’t need sweeping so much as Jennifer liked to do it. The streets in the afternoon were quiet—very few cars and not many people about. When she got outside she thought about how peaceful this town was, how good life in general seemed to be here. Then she noticed a black sedan with darkened windows parked down the street. Something about it gave her pause.
    Then she saw them—a couple of men going in and out of the little shops across from the park. One of them was Lou, she didn’t know the other. The one she didn’t know seemed to be holding a sheaf of papers. He could be a new “butler,” or maybe a police officer? She settled on the new goon—he was about as large as Lou. She hoped he was about as smart.
    But there was no question in her mind—they were looking for her.
    She felt light-headed. A little dizzy. They walked into the next shop and Jennifer got a grip. Sweep, she told herself. Nick might be in the car. Just sweep and try to act natural. But her mind was racing. Should I run? Had the message to the police through the Internet been traced to Boulder City? If it had, her first contact would come from the police, not these goons, right? Unless the police called Nick and said there’d been a message and then—She stopped herself. She was