“Seriously?”
“Day before yesterday, a kid threw a football through the front door. It ruined a specialty cake waiting for pickup, landed in the kitchen, and got lodged behind the oven. We almost had to bake around it.”
“Did you kill the kid?” He held the door open for her.
“No, but he better make quarterback or he’ll be cleaning the grill for the next two years.”
Dylan looked around.
“You seem lost.”
Damn, her voice was pretty. “I am lost.”
“That’s almost impossible here. The sheriff’s office is there on the corner. Holding is in the basement.” She pointed. “The B&B is around the corner and down the street that way.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “I’m on my way to take your brother some lunch.” She held up the bag.
Whichever way Nile was going, he was going. He took the lunch bag from her. “I’ll follow you.”
“What about your bike?”
Nope. A ride would end too soon. “Jake and I will come back and get them.”
“All right. They’re safe here, anyway.”
She didn’t mention, by giving him directions, she rendered herself useless.
He didn’t find her useless at all.
Chapter Seven
JB ducked around the corner and made his call. It went to voicemail.
I’m not answering. If you’ve called the correct number, leave a message.
“Uhh, hello. This is James. James B. Harrison. I’m calling for Agent Goins...or Agent Malroy. Either of you. We talked yesterday. I have some information for you. Call me back soon, please.” JB hung up. He hadn’t crossed the street before the expected return call came.
“Mr. Harrison. This is Special Agent Malroy.”
“Hello. Yes, sir.”
Malroy spoke in monotone. “You have something for us?”
“I do. I do. My niece’s boyfriend showed up this morning.”
“Did you talk to him? Would he be willing to help us?”
“I didn’t talk to him. Not directly. But, he didn’t come alone. He brought his brother and a friend with him.”
“Three of them?”
“Yes. Three. It might interest you to know, they’ve had a run-in with the Bishops. The friend got himself thrown in jail already.”
He had the agent’s interest. “That fast. What did he do?”
“Nothing. Jordan Bishop didn’t like him looking at his sister’s ass.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Her ass is fine. Both of them.”
Someone in the background said something JB couldn’t understand. Thinking of those girls in those terms made him uncomfortable. He’d known them all their lives. That kind of talk was for his son and the other young bucks. He cleared his throat. “He thought so. The sheriff hauled him off because of it.”
“I guess he’s mad.”
“I’ll say. I’m on my way over there now. Young Guns—I mean, Nile Bishop, sent me to take him some lunch.”
“Do you expect it’s tainted?”
“Ummm...probably not. They don’t like him, for sure. He won’t last long, but it’s early. I would guess the Bishops won’t get vicious until later. After they meet Maya’s man.”
Malroy conferred with someone then said, “Seems we have a window. Can he be of any use to us?”
“That’s why I called. They don’t like him and he’s already angry. If you want, I can direct him to the right conclusions and maybe get him working for us.”
“This thing is stalled,” Agent Malroy said. “If you can swing it, we’ll finally get some movement.”
“That’s my thought on the subject. I was happy when I met him. He has the right kind of feel to him.”
“You trust him.”
“He doesn’t come across as someone who is smart. He’s a hothead.”
“What about the others?”
“The one, I don’t know about. But I can tell you, Maya’s man will be spitting fire. You can tell, he’s not one to take no for an answer.”
“Are they going to tell him no?”
“They’d be crazy if they didn’t.”
“Then he’s the one we want.”
“Yes, but his friend is here and available. We can use them both.”
“Can’t argue that. Great job, James...JB. You go by JB, right?”
“JB most of the time. It stands for James Brown, but I hate using it. I don’t want anyone to confuse me with the sheriff.”
Malroy didn’t care. “All right, JB. See what you can do, but don’t tell him too much. Try to persuade him to meet with us.”
“I’ll set it up...if he’s not a complete idiot.”
“That’s what we need to hear. You are a big help and a credit to your country.”
“I couldn’t serve, but I’m a patriot. This evil has to stop. We’re the ones living here. We have to stop it.”
Malroy didn’t care about that either. “Keep us posted.” He hung up.
NILE AND DYLAN TALKED slow and walked slower.
“Tigris...Nile...unique names,” he pondered aloud.
“A nod to my mother’s maiden name,” she explained. “Rivers.”
“My brother and I were named after a rock singer.”
“Which?”
She pulled the ponytail holder from her hair and shook it free.
He got a jolt. She wasn’t intending it to be sexy, but it was.
“Jacob Dylan of the Wallflowers. My mother swears his music was playing both times she got pregnant.”
She giggled. “Imagine the odds.”
“High but not unattainable, I guess. Jake and I were born the same year. He’s January, I’m December. I imagine the song was still popular. According to her, she remembered hearing it and thought Jacob was a great name. When it happened again, it was ‘fate.’” He air quoted.
She pushed her hair back and made him want to touch it.
“Lame, I know. Who names their kids after rock stars?”
“In Rain, almost everybody—”
They turned the corner, and he tried to walk slower.
“Half the people here are named after famous people. Oprah works the take-out side. JB—that guy taking your friend his lunch— James Brown...umm, let me see. A Viola, a Taraji, and a Kerry were born last year.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I wish I were. It’s a trend around here.” She snapped her fingers. “The Harrisons, Maya’s parents, Sidney and Diana.”
He thought about it. “Ross?”
“Yep.”
He shook his head, drawing a blank for the other.
“Poitier. Old-school.”
“But why?” He didn’t want to ask his real question.
“It makes people feel noticed. There’s not a lot of identity around here.”
“You stand out.”
She looked down, but he could tell she was smiling.
“How did Maya escape this name-game stigmata?”
“She didn’t.”