“Yes,” said Joe. “I do.”
“Does that mean something? I never would have asked that before we moved here.”
“Why did you move here?” This was not a question you should ask in Midnight, but Joe had a great suspicion that the Reeds were not truly Midnighters.
“Well…” Teacher floundered. “The café was open to rent, Madonna thought she could run a place so small, and the man who sold it to us threw in the trailer. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in the house on the other side of the Rev’s, that’s the house we could’ve taken, but it’s in terrible shape. Madonna said it was bad enough me going out to work every day to fix other people’s houses, she didn’t want me coming home to work there, too. The trailer is in great shape.”
This was too much explanation, and Joe felt sad. Madonna was truly a gifted cook, Grady was a charmer, and Teacher was literally a handy man to have around. He could fix almost anything. But Joe felt sure that the Reeds would not stay.
“I understand,” Joe said. “Stay well, Teacher. I hope you get your replacement soon.”
“See you, Joe,” Teacher said. There was a definite guarded tone to his voice.
The last family who’d worked at Gas N Go hadn’t worked out, either. Joe hadn’t wondered at all (at the time) why the Reeds hadn’t been summoned to the little meeting that presaged the Lovells’ departure. He’d simply accepted it. But now he knew. As he returned to his shop, he wondered if there was some kind of curse on Gas N Go. He turned back to look at it in the magical spectrum. There was a smudge of sadness around the building but nothing permanent. He could hope that the next manager would be someone who fit into the town perfectly.
There was no point going over to talk with Lenore and Harvey Whitefield. There was nothing extranormal about them, and Joe had found he didn’t even particularly like them. He knew that Mamie and Shorty were in the hotel, and he knew that they were both napping, and he knew that Mamie was very close to passing through the veil. He could also tell that two other people staying at the hotel (both doing contract work at Magic Portal) were both away for the day.
As uneasy as he felt, he hoped they’d stay away until late in the night. Or maybe they’d find someone to spend the night with, someone fun, and by the time they returned to the Midnight Hotel, whatever was going to happen — tonight, tomorrow night, soon — would all be done.
He could hope.
24
Olivia made it through lunch at the Cracker Barrel by the skin of her teeth. She hated the merchandise room, she hated the false harking back to a re-created past reflected in the wall decor, and she hated Barry and Manfred because they were oblivious to the fluffy sweatshirts and silly souvenirs and the faux farm implements. They simply enjoyed the food, as Suzie and Tommy did. Their waitress looked exhausted but kept smiling, and Barry told Olivia that the woman was a single mother and had two jobs to keep afloat.
“I don’t want to be obliged to pity my server,” Olivia snapped.
Barry turned his attention back to his menu pointedly. “Then don’t. I just didn’t want you to jump down her throat because she was slow bringing your coffee.”
“So you go around being Mr. Compassionate?” Her voice was low but sharp.
He flinched. “No,” he confessed. “Not always.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“Listen, I can tell you’re mad at me for something I really can’t help. But see if you can rein it in for today, all right? I’m not telling anyone any of your awful little secrets.”
Olivia wanted nothing so much as to punch him in the face. “Be quiet now,” she said, her voice so low and intense that people near them actually turned to look. “Really, really, be quiet.”
Suzie said, “Everything okay here? You young people! Mind your manners!”
“Says the ex-hooker,” Barry whispered, and suddenly Olivia wanted to laugh.
“Hey, Tommy, you need some more tea?” Manfred was down at the other end of the table, and he’d been very solicitous to Tommy and Suzie the whole meal. Maybe because he wanted to pretend she, Olivia, wasn’t in a total rage? Olivia took a deep breath and reconciled herself to the fact that she could do nothing about what Barry had learned from her thoughts. But, she reassured herself, I can kill him if he ever tells anyone. What about when he leaves? He might find my father and tell…
She glanced sideways at the man next to her. She didn’t want to have to kill Barry, but she might have to. It would be a pity. She could see so many times a gift like his would come in handy. If only somehow she could immunize herself against it!
“Is there anyone you can’t hear? At all?” she asked, picking up a roll and taking a small bite.
“Vampires.” He cut up his ham with precision. “And it’s hard to hear people who can turn into an animal. Texas is better than Louisiana. Not so many of either one.”
“And yet you have enemies here in Texas.”
He chewed and swallowed. “Enemies with long memories.”
He was reminding Olivia that she had a hold over him, too.
It was still true that if you didn’t go looking for vampires, you’d have a good chance of never seeing one. But every large city had at least one vampire-oriented nightclub and a house or two where vampires were known to nest. For those reasons alone (the company of their own kind, the profitability of simply being undead, and the safety of numbers), it was hard to find a vampire who preferred to live on his or her own in a rural area; Lemuel was an exception. But he was an exception in more than one way. He didn’t have to have blood. He could take energy instead, a sip here and a sip there, just enough to keep him going.
He could take from other vampires, too. And he defended his area vigorously.
That was why most undead would not come within miles of Midnight, unless they had to come to the pawnshop for something rare. Lemuel would not leech from a customer of the store.
“You won’t be bothered by your enemies while you’re in Midnight,” Olivia said. “At least, when Lemuel is there.”
“But he’s not. Any idea of when he’ll return? I’d like to stay to see Granddaddy settled in a real nursing home. With more supervision. But I’m not going to die to make that happen.”
“Of course not,” Olivia said. “He’s had his turn.”
Barry said, “When you put it like that, doesn’t make me sound too good.”
She raised her eyebrows. “But it’s the truth.”
He lifted his shoulders, let them drop. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“You better take Tommy to the men’s room. You never know what kind of conversation he’s going to have with another customer.”
Barry went with Tommy while Olivia took Suzie to the ladies’ room and Manfred paid their bill. Olivia, glancing back at the wreck of the table, thought, I didn’t know old people could eat that much. She remembered her own grandmother picking at the food on her plate. But her grandmother had been ill… her last illness.
Manfred and Barry loaded Suzie and Tommy into Manfred’s car this time, and Olivia drove alone. The solitude was a huge relief. She listened to Yo-Yo Ma the whole way into Dallas. It cleared her mind and calmed her. She felt much better when they stopped for the final briefing, which took place at a filling station in Bonnet Park. But by then, she’d come to a decision.
“I have to go in,” she said.
Everyone stared at her, but that didn’t bother Olivia. She was used to it.
“But the maid might recognize you, you said yourself,” Manfred said. “And I know Lewis would recognize me.”