Local Hero Read Free Page A

whirlwind of energy. He yawned now and rubbed his back lazily on the rug. He liked Mitch. Mitch never expected him to do anything that he didn’t care to, and hardly ever complained about dog hair on the furniture or an occasional forage into the trash. Mitch had a nice voice, too, low and patient. Taz liked it best when Mitch sat on the floor with him and stroked his heavy brown fur, talking out one of his ideas. Taz could look up into the lean face as if he understood every word.
    Taz liked Mitch’s face, too. It was kind and strong, and the mouth rarely firmed into a disapproving line. His eyes were pale and dreamy. Mitch’s wide, strong hands knew the right places to scratch. Taz was a very contented dog. He yawned and went back to sleep.
    When the knock came to the door, the dog stirred enough to thump his tail and make a series of low noises in his throat.
    â€œNo, I’m not expecting anyone. You?” Mitch responded. “I’ll go see.” He stepped on peanut shells in his bare feet and swore, but didn’t bother to stoop and pick them up. There was a pile of newspapers to be skirted around and a bag of clothes that hadn’t made it to the laundry. Taz had left one of his bones on the Aubusson. Mitch simply kicked it into a corner before he opened the door.
    â€œPizza delivery.”
    A scrawny kid of about eighteen was holding a box that smelled like heaven. Mitch took one long, avaricious sniff. “I didn’t order any.”
    â€œThis 406?”
    â€œYeah, but I didn’t order any pizza.” He sniffed again. “Wish I had.”
    â€œWallace?”
    â€œDempsey.”
    â€œShoot.”
    Wallace, Mitch thought as the kid shifted from foot to foot. Wallace was taking over the Henley apartment, 604. He rubbed a hand over his chin and considered. If Wallace was that leggy brunette he’d seen hauling in boxes that morning, it might be worth investigating.
    â€œI know the Wallaces,” he said, and pulled crumpled bills out of his pocket. “I’ll take it on up to them.”
    â€œI don’t know. I shouldn’t—”
    â€œWorry about a thing,” Mitch finished, and added another bill. Pizza and the new neighbor might be just the distraction he needed.
    The boy counted his tip. “Okay, thanks.” For all he knew, the Wallaces wouldn’t be half as generous.
    With the box balanced in his hand, Mitch started out. Then he remembered his keys. He took a moment to search through his worn jeans before he remembered he’d tossed them at the gateleg table when he’d come in the night before. He found them under it, stuck them in one pocket, found the hole in it and stuck them in the other. He hoped the pizza had some pepperoni.
    â€œThat should be the pizza,” Hester announced, but caught Radley before he could dash to the door. “Let me open it. Remember the rules?”
    â€œDon’t open the door unless you know who it is,” Radley recited, rolling his eyes behind his mother’s back.
    Hester put a hand on the knob but checked the peephole. She frowned a little at the face. She’d have sworn the man was looking straight back at her with amused and very clear blue eyes. His hair was dark and shaggy, as if it hadn’t seen a barber or a comb in a little too long. But the face was fascinating, lean and bony and unshaven.
    â€œMom, are you going to open it?”
    â€œWhat?” Hester stepped back when she realized she’d been staring at the delivery boy for a good deal longer than necessary.
    â€œI’m starving,” Radley reminded her.
    â€œSorry.” Hester opened the door and discovered the fascinating face went with a long, athletic body. And bare feet.
    â€œDid you order pizza?”
    â€œYes.” But it was snowing outside. What was he doing barefoot?
    â€œGood.” Before Hester realized his intention, Mitch strolled inside.
    â€œI’ll take that,”