up. She shrugged, noncommittally, thinking frantically. She remembered the bullet buzzing by her head and the sound of the lawn mower next door.
“We’re not sure. The neighbor was mowing.” She hesitated. “We think he threw a rock. I was standing by the pantry when the window shattered. I heard a buzz as something whizzed past me. It hit the pantry door so hard it put a bullet-size hole in it.” She shuddered.
Just then her cell phone rang. Saved by the bell, or in this case, the theme from Get Smart. Her phone was in her purse on the counter. She cut Sam off before he could ask another question. “That’s probably him now.”
She raced to her purse to get it. When she pulled it out and looked, the caller ID registered it was from a restricted number, which might very well be Drew. “Excuse me,” she said to Sam as she answered the call.
“Hey, stranger! You’re a tough one to track down.”
“Mandy?” Staci held up a finger to Sam and pointed toward the stairs, mouthing she’d be right back. “What are you doing calling from a blocked number?”
“I’m at Kelly’s. My cell died. I had to use her landline. She has a blocked number. Some phobia about calling stores and people knowing who she is.”
Staci crossed the room and went to the top of the stairs where she could speak in private.
“I wondered if you want to do dinner and a movie tonight?”
“I’d love to, believe me. But my life got suddenly complicated.” And she was under temporary house arrest. Staci paused. “I have too much going on.” Which was the absolute truth.
“Like what?”
“Like way too much to explain right now. Can we catch up later? My stepdad just stopped by—”
“I’m sure his visit makes your day. What does Sam want?”
Sometimes it was downright impossible to get Mandy off the phone. It took Staci nearly five long, wrenching, uncomfortable minutes of trying to tell as few lies as possible before she managed to extricate herself.
She came back downstairs to find Sam in the kitchen, getting a glass of water.
“Oh, sorry! I should have offered you something.” She frowned. “We’re a little low on supplies.”
“No problem.” Sam smiled. “You want to tell me more about this sudden reconciliation? Are you getting some marriage counseling?” He still looked confused and curious.
“I’d rather give Mom the full scoop first, if you don’t mind.”
Sam took a drink and nodded. “Mothers and daughters.”
Staci smiled back at him. “The less I say, the less you have to keep from her.”
“True, true.” Sam set his glass down on the counter. “Well, I’d better be going then.” He started for the door.
He was halfway there before Staci noticed the box on the table. She gasped. “You can’t leave this!”
If Drew saw the box of his junk and realized she’d disobeyed his orders, he’d be furious, even if it was only Sam she’d let in. She had to live with Drew. There was no use upsetting him any more than necessary.
Sam frowned.
“If you don’t come back with Drew’s stuff, Mom will pepper you with questions about him and us.” She picked up the box and walked toward Sam. “Better you just take this back with you and make some excuse about him being out or something.”
Sam nodded and smiled. “Smart girl. Good thinking. With her interrogation skills, that mother of yours could work for the CIA.” He took the box from her and winked. “Better not to arouse any suspicions. In fact, easiest to just pretend I didn’t have the time to even try to drop by and give this back to Drew today.”
Staci smiled, relieved. “Not a word, remember!”
“Cross my heart.”
She showed him out and closed the door behind him. She leaned her head back against the closed door once he was safely out and on his way. She let out a huge sigh. That was close!
CHAPTER FOUR
Drew noticed the difference the minute he stepped in the condo door, carrying a piping-hot pizza, a
Joe R. Lansdale, Mark A. Nelson
julius schenk, Manfred Rohrer