who wasnât her idea of a perfect role model for her sons. He was fine as a friend of the family, but what sort of a father would he be, riding around on his motorcycle, getting lewd messages tattooed on his arm.
âCâmon, squirt,â Matt said, tucking Jason under his arm. âLetâs go inside and look in the oven so I can decide if I want to stay for supper.â
Elsie stood on the porch steps. âWhatâs all the racket about? Holy cow, is that a hog in the driveway?â
âItâs Mattâs,â Jason said. âIsnât it awesome?â
âYep,â Elsie said. âItâs awesome all right. Nothing like a hog to liven a place up.â
Matt gave Elsie a kiss on the cheek. âPlay your cards right, and I might take you for a ride after supper.â
Lizabeth turned, took one last glance at theHarley, and gave an involuntary shiver. Yes sir, Lizabeth, she thought, youâre in way over your head.
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Lizabeth cracked her knuckles and resumed her pacing. The bedroom floor was cool under her bare feet, her white-cotton gown with the little blue roses billowed around her legs as she walked, and her ears stayed alert for sounds drifting through her open window. It was two oâclock and overcast, and the backyard seemed unusually dark. The outside lights hadnât been turned on, and there were no lights shining inside the Victorian house. Even the small night-lights had been extinguished. Elsie and Matt didnât want to scare the flasher off.
âItâs not fair,â Lizabeth said. âItâs two against one. And that poor flasher doesnât even have any clothes on.â In her mind that gave him some sort of disadvantage, as if he couldnât think as well, or run as fast, because he was naked.
Elsie had dragged the rocking chair into the kitchen. Sheâd positioned it in front of the back door and left the door ajar so she could hear the slightest noise coming from the yard. Sheâd been sitting there, in the dark, for almost threehours, and she was sound asleep. Her hands were folded, at rest on her stomach, her mouth had dropped open, and her head tilted crazily to one side. Matt sat at the kitchen table, his arms crossed in front of him, his head resting on his arms.
His eyelids drooped shut. His breathing was slow and regular. A short nap wouldnât hurt, he decided. He was a light sleeper. He would hear the flasher when he came into the yard.
A stone hit Lizabethâs window. It was a small stone, and the sound it made was so slight it was barely audible. Lizabeth felt her heart race in her chest. She stood absolutely still, her hands pressed to her mouth, the pulse thumping in her throat. She didnât want anyone to get hurt. Not Matt, not Elsie, not the flasher. She moved to the window and was caught in the beam of the flashlight. Lord, why didnât he just stop. Why didnât he put his clothes on and take up bowling or something. It was almost as if he wanted to get caught. Lizabeth leaned into the window. âGet out of here!â she said in her loudest possible whisper.
âWhat?â
âGet out of here! Thereâs a man in my kitchen whoâs going to break every bone in your body!â
Matt woke up at the sound of Lizabethâs voice. The kitchen was black as pitch, but Matt was out of his chair and across the room in three strides. The back door was half-open, and Matt saw the streak of light blink off. He reached for the door and slammed into the rocking chair, dumping Elsie onto the floor.
âWhat the devilâs going on?â Elsie said, coming awake. âDonât anybody get near me. I know judo. I got Mace.â
Matt turned the lights on and bolted out the door.
Lizabeth came flying down the stairs. âWhat was that crash?â
âLand sakes, there he goes!â Elsie shouted getting to her feet. âHey, you damn pervert, youâre in trouble now!
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