Manhunting Read online

  “This is beautiful,” she told the young man. “I love this part of the lake, and now I’ll always have it with me.”

  “My mom painted that,” he said. “I’ll tell her what you said. She’ll be real happy.”

  Donald snorted.

  They went into Mother’s Sewing Basket and looked at locally made quilts and coverlets. Penny found a crazy quilt in shades of yellow. “This would look great on my bed,” she said. Brian grew pale at the thought and moved closer to her. “Cheap fabric,” Donald said. “They’re using polyester instead of cotton.” The little old woman stitching by the window looked ready to cry, so Kate bought a peach-and-blue comforter for her apartment.

  “I’ve never had a real patchwork quilt before,” she told the old woman. “This will keep me warm all winter.”

  “It will that,” the old woman said, and patted her hand.

  Donald sneered.

  They went into Cline’s Dry Goods and found rows of cotton and flannel shirts in bright plaids, stacks of dark blue jeans, and piles of socks, white T-shirts, and underwear that Donald snickered at. They also found, to Penny’s delight, a rack of cowboy hats.

  Mrs. Cline came out from behind the counter to help her.

  “You’re so pretty, you’ll look a treat in any of them, honey,” she told Penny. “It’s a real pleasure to see you try them on.”

  Penny beamed at her and tried on a blue one with golden feathers around the crown.

  “All right,” Brian said.

  “It’s you,” Kate said, laughing. “You have to have it.”

  “You, too.” Penny pulled her over to the rack. “You get one, too.”

  Mrs. Cline picked up a red hat with white beads. “Try this one,” she urged Kate. “You’d be a picture in a red dress and this one.”

  Kate hesitated, and Penny shook her head. “No. That one.” She pointed to a black hat with silver medallions around its crown.

  “That’s for a man, honey,” Mrs. Cline said, but she got it down anyway.

  Kate put it on and mugged with Penny in the mirror.

  “We’ll wear these tonight,” Penny said, and Kate was about to tell her no, cowboy hats weren’t her style, when Donald picked the hat off her head.

  “One hundred and twenty-five dollars? That’s ridiculous.”

  Kate saw Mrs. Cline color.

  “I don’t think so.” Kate took the hat back from him, even though she did think so. “This is a high-quality hat. I’d have to pay a lot more for this in the city.”

  She put it on again and let it slide back so it framed her face. She looked a little bald with all her hair pulled into a chignon, so she took the pins out and let her hair fall free.

  “All right,” Penny said.

  “Now it’s worth one hundred and twenty-five dollars,” Donald said gallantly.

  If she wore braids, she could pretend she was Annie Oakley. She’d always wanted to be Annie Oakley. What was she going to do with a one-hundred-and-twenty-five-dollar cowboy hat?

  She looked at Mrs. Cline, who looked at her and smiled.

  “I’ll take it,” she said. “Penny’s, too. My treat.”

  “Oh, Kate, really?”

  “Really,” Kate said.

  They went into Dickerson’s Snack Shop because Kate said she was tired of shopping. In truth, she was tired of spending money on things she really didn’t want. It’d be just her luck that the next place they’d end up would be a car dealership, and she’d have to make up for Donald’s big mouth by buying a ‘69 Chevy.

  “Hi, folks.” A round little woman came to the table, a pad in her hand. “What’ll it be?”

  “Hamburger and fries, lots of catsup,” Penny said.

  “Hamburger and fries, lots of catsup,” Brian said, adoringly.

  “Do you have anything broiled?” Donald asked.

  “Mashed potatoes and gravy,” Kate said, reading the menu. “You have mashed potatoes and gravy?”

  “Sure do.” The little woman beamed at her. “I make ‘em myself.”

  “I love mashed potatoes and gravy,” Kate said. “Real homemade mashed potatoes and gravy. Two orders, please.”

  The potatoes when they came were light and fluffy, the gravy dark and speckled with meat chunks and scrapings.

  “I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Kate said and the little woman laughed.

  “Kate,” Donald said loudly when she’d gone back behind the counter, “they’re instant.”

  Kate looked horrified. “They can’t be.” She tasted them. They were thick and rich, full of butter and real potato. “They’re real.”

  “No place like this could afford the time to make real mashed potatoes,” Donald told her. “They’re instant.”

  Kate ignored him. The gravy was salty and thick, the potatoes creamy, the meat falling apart on her fork. Who needed men? She had this.

  “Kate!” Donald was as outraged as if he’d read her mind.

  “They’re real.” She scooped up another mound. A piece of meat fell off, and she raised her fork to spear it.

  “Let me see.” He thrust his hand over the plate just as she aimed the fork.

  Later, she couldn’t remember whether she’d had time to stop, or if Donald’s trying to ruin her potatoes the way he’d ruined everything else had made her temporarily insane. Whatever the reason, she stabbed him with the sharp, narrow, old-fashioned fork and hit a vein in the back of his hand.

  Donald screamed, and she shoved his hand away so he wouldn’t get blood on her potatoes.

  “I’m so sorry, Donald,” she said and took another bite.

  An hour later, Kate stopped by the cabin and dropped off the things she’d bought and then strolled back to the pool for a while. Two orders of Mrs. Dickerson’s mashed potatoes had made her world a better place, even though Donald tried to make her leave after Mrs. Dickerson had wrapped his hand in gauze.

  “I’m almost finished,” she’d told him, “and you’re not bleeding anymore.”

  He was standing at the bar when she sat down next to the pool, drinking with his left hand and ignoring her. Obviously he wasn’t going to be making any passes at her tonight. Just as well, she told herself. He’d probably tell me that my nightgown was polyester and that I’d faked my orgasm. And he’d have been wrong about the nightgown and right about the orgasm.

  Penny waved to her and she moved to the chair beside her. “Thank you for talking me into going into town today,” she told Penny. “I had a very good time.”

  “Well, don’t forget, we’re going to Nancy’s tonight, too,” Penny said.

  “Anything you say,” Kate said and slouched down in her chair to enjoy the late afternoon.

  Jake watched her slouch and then deliberately turned away. She didn’t seem upset, but something had pretty clearly gone wrong that afternoon; for one thing, Donald the gnat was wearing a bandage. She must have done something to him. Jake grinned, wondering what he had done.

  He felt somebody at his elbow and turned to see Kate.

  “Soda,” she said. “Any kind. I’m dying of thirst.”

  “Sure.” Jake moved behind the bar. “So how did the plan go today?”

  Kate glanced over at Donald who was glaring at her as he nursed his hand. “Not well. Why?”

  “I was curious as to why old Donald was wearing a bandage. You were my first guess. What’d you do, bite him?”

  “He should be so lucky,” Kate said. “I stabbed him.”

  Jake handed her a drink. “Try not to injure anybody else, okay?”

  “He deserved it,” Kate said.

  “I’m sure he did. But if you go around wounding every guy who deserves it, you’ll be taking out most of the hotel.”

  “I’ll behave,” Kate said. “I’m not even going to be at the hotel tonight. Penny’s taking me someplace called Nancy’s.”

  “I’ll warn Nancy,” Jake said.

  “Very funny,” Kate said and walked back to her chair while Jake watched.