Showdown at Lizard Rock by Sandra Chastain Read Free Book Online Page A

can find that’s usable. We’ll distribute food and clean clothes and ask them to walk my picket line in return. That will call attention to both our needs.”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Katie. I have the feeling that you’re asking for trouble from your landlord.”
    Kaylyn noted grimly that Sandi, who was usually ready to fall in with any plan Kaylyn concocted, seemed reluctant to cross swords with King Vandergriff. Well, Sandi wouldn’t have to. Kaylyn would do it.
    “Thanks for bringing out the food, Sandi. Do you think you could man the sit-in spot for a few minutes while I go and phone Tom?”
    “Don’t leave me here all alone!” Sandi pushed her blond-white hair behind the sweatband around her head and tugged up the sagging waistband of her running pants. “I’m a chickenhearted protestor. I was twenty-nine my last birthday, and I’m getting too old for your escapades.”
    “So heist yourself a wheelchair from the center. I’llbe right back. My … er, neighbor has a phone right in his trailer, and I’m personal friends with his houseboy.”
    “You mean Harold? I still don’t believe that.”
    “I mean Harold.” Kaylyn jumped across the smaller rocks that surrounded the spring and headed for the gleaming trailer. At the door she paused for a moment, then knocked.
    “Harold? It’s Kaylyn. Are you there?”
    The door swung open, and the sound of folk music drifted into the night. “Hello, Ms. Smith. What can I do for you?”
    “Harold? Is that you?” Harold had shaved, gotten a haircut, and was wearing a short-sleeved cotton jumpsuit that make him look like a new man.
    “Yes, indeedy. What can I do for you?”
    “I need to use your phone and to ask you if you’ll help Sandi finish unloading the supplies from the van.”
    “Sure thing!” Harold hurried out to give Sandi a hand.
    Kaylyn stepped inside the trailer and gasped. This was no dirty little construction-site trailer. This was a sultan’s tent on wheels. Covering the floor was dark red carpet so thick that she felt her feet sink into it. Black leather furniture surrounded a glass-and-ebony coffee table. Beyond a black-and-chrome breakfast bar she could see European red-lacquer cabinets and black-tiled counters.
    “It’s a bloody bordello,” she muttered. “He even has a red phone.” She half expected Mae West to come sashaying down the hall any minute.
    She called Esther Hainey down at the Animal Shelter and listened as Esther bemoaned the plight ofMatilda, the very pregnant donkey who had been abandoned at the shelter that morning. Kaylyn sighed in distress. She didn’t mind providing a foster home for birds, cats, dogs, hamsters, or any of the other small creatures that came to the shelter. But a donkey?
    Wait a minute, she thought. She had the
perfect
place. “Esther,” Kaylyn said, “can you get somebody to bring her over to Pretty Springs?”
    “Why, I guess so. I heard about your little project to save the springs. Are you making any progress?”
    “Not yet, but I’m working on it. Send Matilda. King Vandergriff will love having her, I’m sure.”
    “It’s nice of you to set up dates for me,” a deep voice said behind Kaylyn. “Who’s Matilda?”
    Kaylyn turned around quickly. “What are you doing here?” He was standing in the doorway, dusty and disheveled, his hair frosted with red Georgia dust and his face ruddy from working outdoors.
    “I live here, remember?”
    He sat down on a chair near the door and removed his boots. This time his socks were a soft peach color. Kaylyn tried to concentrate on her phone conversation with Esther. She really did. But thoughts of a pregnant donkey slid out of her mind, replaced with a titillating and unwanted question. Was King Vandergriff’s underwear coordinated tonight? It looked for all the world as if she were about to find out. He had removed his shirt and was unzipping his pants.
    “What are you doing?” she asked, shocked.
    “I’m about to take