Swept Away by Robyn Carr Page B

Louise’s internet account and sent an email to the Las Vegas Metro Police Department : Nick Noble of Palm Beach, killed his wife, Barbara Noble, in a Las Vegas hotel and disposed of the body. She hit Send, then deleted the screen name.
    She began to tremble. Could that be traced? She thought not. But the PD might connect Nick’s name with hers and the fact that she was missing. She thought about repeating the process with the Florida authorities, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was too afraid of being found out.
    * * *
    Jennifer was taking the trash out of the diner’s back door and into the alley when she just about collided with Hedda, who was in a serious lip-lock with her boyfriend. Hedda giggled and separated herself from the boy. “Doris, this is Max,” she said.
    Jennifer said hi and Max hung his head shyly, looking up cautiously. She assumed he was sixteen, like Hedda. Boys that age came in all shapes and sizes, and this one was about six feet tall, thin as a noodle with size-twelve feet and spiked hair that had been bleached white. And black eyebrows. She almost said, “I was thinking of doing my hair that way,” and caught herself.
    It was also hard to tell with kids these days whether they looked like they were on welfare, or whether they were on welfare. Max 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.
    â€œSo, what are you two up to? You’re early for work.”
    â€œI 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.”
    â€œWhere 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?”
    â€œWow,” she said. “What a fun job.”
    â€œThey poop in the tub sometimes?”
    â€œSo,” 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.
    â€œGood 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.”
    â€œYeah,” 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.
    â€œYou take good care of the girl,” he said. “That’s never a problem here.”
    â€œI swear, I don’t know how you make ends meet.”
    â€œIt’s a challenge sometimes, but we always make do.