Riptide Read Free Page B

your hands." He
    smiled, but his eyes still looked hard, as if he looked at people and
    saw all the bad things they were trying to hide, and was used to it,
    maybe even philosophical about it. She didn't want him looking at
    her that way, seeing deep into her. She didn't want to talk to him.
    She just wanted to get out of there.
    "Yes, I know," she said, and took a step back.
    "Once I got used to it, though, I found I couldn't eat the other
    peanut butter, too much sugar."
    "That's true." She took another step away from him. Who was
    he? Why -was he trying to be so nice?
    "Miss Powell, I'm Young Jeff. Ah, Old Jeff is my pop, he's the assistant
    manager. Just hold still and I'll clean off your sneaker." He

picked up her foot, nearly sending her over backward. The man
    held her up while Young Jeff wiped a wet paper towel over the
    bottom of her sneaker. He was very strong, she could feel it since his
    hands were in her armpits. "I'm sure glad you're here, ma'am. I
    wanted to know if that poor dead skeleton was Mrs. McBride.
    Everyone is talking about how it can't be anybody else, what with
    Mrs. McBride just up and disappearing like she did not all that
    long ago. Everyone says you know it's Mrs. McBride, too, that you
    were sure, but how could you be? Did you meet Mrs. McBride?"
    He finally released her foot. She pulled away from Young Jeff
    and the man, a good two feet. She felt cold, very cold. She rubbed
    her hands over her crossed arms. "No, Jeff, I never met Ann
    McBride. I didn't know anything about her. No one said a single
    word to me about her. Also, everybody is being premature. Now,
    I'll just bet that we'll be hearing very soon that the poor woman I
    found can't be Ann McBride. You tell everyone I said that."
    "I will, Ms. Powell, but that's not what Mrs. Ella says. She thinks
    it's Ann McBride, too."
    "Believe me, Jeff, I was there, and I saw the skeleton; Mrs. Ella
    didn't. Hey, I'm sorry about the mess. Thanks for cleaning off my
    shoe."
    The man stuck out his arm and helped her over the shards of
    glass. "Young Jeff is a teenage boy with raging hormones," he said,
    very aware that she had pulled away from him again. "I'm afraid
    you're now the object of his affection."
    She shuddered. "No, I'm the object of everyone's curiosity,
    nothing more, including poor Young Jeff." She stopped. The man
    couldn't help it that she was spooked. She drew a deep breath, gave
    him a nice big smile, and said, "I've got a few more things to buy,
    Mr.--?"
    "Carruthers. Adam Carruthers." He stuck out his hand and she

automatically shook it. Big hand, hard, just like the rest of him.
    She'd bet the last dime in the bottom of her purse that even the
    soles of his feet were hard. She knew without being told that he
    was very disciplined, very focused, like soldiers or bad guys were
    focused, and that made her so afraid she nearly ran out right that
    minute. Which was silly. Only one thing she really knew for sure--
    she didn't ever want to have to tangle with him. Actually, if she
    never saw him again, it would be just fine by her. "I haven't seen
    you around town before, Mr. Carruthers."
    "No, I just got here yesterday. The first thing I heard about was
    your finding that skeleton. The second thing I heard was it was the
    missing wife of your neighbor, Tyler McBride, and that you were
    seeing him and now wasn't that interesting?"
    A reporter, she thought. Oh God, maybe he was a reporter or a
    paparazzo, and they'd found her. Her brave new world in the
    boondocks was going to be over just as it was beginning. It wasn't
    fair. She began backing away from him.
    "Are you all right?"
    "Yes, of course. I'm very busy. It was a pleasure to meet you.
    Goodbye." And she was nearly running down the aisle lined with
    different kinds of breads, hamburger buns, and English muffins.
    He stared after her. She was taller than he'd expected, and too
    thin. Well, he'd be skinny, too, if he'd been under as much pressure
    as she was. What mattered was