Runaway Mistress

“Absolutely. Thank you for taking it on.”

“All right, then,” she said, making an effort to keep the relief and excitement from her voice. “I don’t have anything else going on.”

“Well, isn’t this just my lucky day,” Louise said. “Oh, and Doris? If anyone comes sniffing around the diner, acting like they might be looking for someone like you, don’t smile. That smile of yours is simply unforgettable.”

Louise’s house was a tiny little brick box that she’d owned for thirty years. It was in a row of identical houses offering up varying colors of brick, siding or paint, just around the corner from the park, theater, post office and library. A few blocks farther was the main street and shops that saw more action from the tourist traffic. She’d had a screened back porch added several years ago so she could work there in nice weather, which in Nevada was most of the time. Garages hadn’t come with the houses, but she and her neighbors had added free-standing garages that opened into the alley and gave them easy access to their back doors. Her backyard was small but meticulous, thanks to Alex, who took care of it for her.

Louise sat in the porch at the computer, her reading glasses perched on her nose, a stack of books teetering on the floor next to her chair. She heard the front door open and close. Momentarily Rose stood in the doorway to the porch. “I don’t know why I have an extra key,” she said. “The door is never locked.”

“Neither is yours.”

“I’m getting in the habit of locking up when I go to bed at night. I must do it two or three times a week.”

Rose was taller than Louise, as was just about everyone, and still straight as a poker. Her face was what she liked to call seasoned, her hair a flaming red; she drove all the way into Las Vegas to have it colored every three weeks. Her hips were slim and her teeth strong, straight and white. She’d taken good care of herself and didn’t suffer from any of the degenerative conditions that plagued Louise.

Rose was a perpetual fashion plate. Today she wore a black midi-length skirt and gray snakeskin boots with a slim heel and very pointy toes. A bright orange poncho was draped over her black turtleneck. Amazingly, it did not clash with her teased red hair. Her lips matched the poncho, and gold chains sparkled around her neck and wrists.

Louise lifted her glasses and peered down at Rose’s feet. “How do you walk in those things?”

“They look good, that’s how. Tell me you didn’t go through with it,” Rose demanded. “You didn’t invite that bald-headed creature to stay in your house.”

Louise glanced up over her glasses. “You and Doris will get on very well. It’s obvious she could use the support and counsel of an older woman.” She pulled off her glasses. “And she’s not so bald anymore. She’s got a little hair growing in. She’s actually quite beautiful…except for that ridiculous mannish costume she wears.”

“Phoo,” Rose said. “She’s going to rob you blind and run off in the night.”

“If she runs off in the night, she’ll only take what she can fit in the backpack. She doesn’t even own a car.”

“You have no reason to believe you can trust her.”

“She’s been working for Buzz for weeks, and as generous as he is, he won’t condone any dishonest act. If so much as a quarter were missing, he’d let her go.”

“Phoo.”

Rose turned and left the porch. She was back a second later with a glass of iced tea—she had helped herself from Louise’s refrigerator—then draped herself in the wicker chair opposite Louise’s worktable. Although actually only about five foot four, she always wore heels to give her height, and her slender form made it seem she had very long legs and arms. “What did you tell her?”

“That my usual house sitter was unavailable.”

“But Alex and I keep Alice when you’re gone!”

“Alice will be happier at home. Besides, the girl needs a place for a little while and I’ll feel better knowing she’s here.”

“Utter nonsense. Leave well enough alone.”

“She’s obviously in trouble. And if you dare tell her that I’m doing a good turn, I’ll have your hide.”

“Alex is going to have a fit,” Rose predicted.

“I’ll have a word with him,” she said. But he should mind his own business sometimes. Although, since he probably wouldn’t, Louise figured maybe he could be of help. Louise and Rose had nothing but affection for Alex. He lived on one side of Louise with Rose on the other. Alex was young, thirty-five, and made it his business to look after these little old ladies when he should be spending more energy on beautiful young women. He scolded them for opening the door to strangers, for never locking doors when they left the house, for giving too much information on the phone, for not being more cautious. Rose was right—this was going to bother him. But he’d get over it.

“I was hoping you’d reconsider the trip this year,” Rose said.

“Why would I do that? I love my annual sojourn.”

“It’s getting harder for you, though.”

“Tell me about it. Just thinking about that plane ride makes my joints begin to throb. But I like being near Rudy.”

“That’s just crazy, and at your age,” Rose said shortly. Then, softening her tone, she said, “I just thought that might change, is all. As you got older.”

“It’s a matter of not giving in, dammit. But I admit, it’s hard leaving Alice. I always wonder if she’ll still be around when I get back.”

“I’ll watch. But about this girl…”

“She’s a good girl. Just odd. She’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, it’s done. I’m going to give her a debit card for groceries and supplies for household upkeep and set her up to receive one hundred dollars a week.”

“A hundred dollars? Have you lost your mind?”

“Not enough?” Louise asked, thinning eyebrows arched.

“Too much! Way too much! You’re buying her food, paying all the bills, giving her a place rent free….”

“She has to take care of Alice and keep the house in order. It’s a job. People get paid for jobs.”

“Don’t be surprised if you get burned….”

“With you right next door, never giving her a moment’s privacy? You’re right—she could flee in want of a moment’s peace!”

“Ptui,” said Rose.

It was just after lunch when Louise knocked at Alex’s door. He was pulling on a clean shirt as he answered. “Hey, sweetheart. Why didn’t you just call me? I’d have come to you.”

“I had to stretch my legs. I stiffen up in four minutes, I think. Can you get that big suitcase from the garage to the bedroom for me? Tomorrow is soon enough if you’re going somewhere.”

“I’m going to work, but there’s no rush,” he said, buttoning his shirt. “I’ll get it for you before I go.”

“And…I have a house sitter. Doris—the young woman who’s been waiting tables for Buzz for the last month.”

“The girl with the butch haircut and man’s pants?” he asked, frowning. He didn’t wait for an answer—he knew who she was. And he knew Buzz and his proclivity for giving work to down-on-their-luck transients. “What do you know about her?”

“Let’s see. She reads everything I recommend, and quickly. She likes jazz. She’s thinking of getting a mountain bike—she used to love biking. She’s very protective and big sisterish toward Hedda, who could use an ally in her life. And—she adores Alice.” She leaned both hands heavily on her cane. “Think of her as my houseguest and behave yourself.”

He laughed, shoving his shirttail into his pants. “You don’t have to worry that I’ll come on to her,” he said. He went to the breakfast bar to get his wallet and attach his gun to his belt. Alex was a Metro police detective in Las Vegas.

“No, I’m worried that you’ll try to investigate her and I just want you to know I would consider that extremely rude.”