Touch-Me-Not Read Free Page A

burped out its rap phrase. “Maybe it’s the owner, trying to trace it.”
    “No!” said LeRoy sharply. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap at you. Bad case of nerves today. I’ll take care of it.”
    Maureen shrugged. “Not like you to be nervy, Mr. Watts. I hope you’re not coming down with something?”
    “Me, too,” said LeRoy.
    She switched off the cell phone and wrapped it again in LeRoy’s handkerchief, put it back in the drawer, and slammed the drawer shut. Then she headed toward the supply closet. “I promised I’d get those bills out this week, Mr. Watts. I’ll take a box of billing envelopes home with me and work on them tonight.”
    “No, no! Absolutely not,” said LeRoy, moving between Maureen and the closet. “I won’t have you working at home. You go on now. Water that new spider plant.”
    Maureen laughed. “Did anyone ever tell you what a nice man you are?” Before she got to the front door, she turned. “Bye, bye, boys. Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Watts. You and your lovely family.”

C HAPTER 3

    Zeke squirmed into his seat at the kitchen table. “Macaroni and cheese, yum.”
    Sarah set down her knitting and got up from the table. “You got another call from your secret admirer.”
    “She say anything this time?”
    “She hasn’t since the first couple of times. She whispers ‘LeRoy! LeRoy!’ like that. Find out who she is, will you? She’s driving me crazy.”
    “The phone company can put a tracer on the calls, but if she’s on a cell phone . . . Aren’t you eating?”
    “I’ve already had supper.”
    “Zeke almost wet his pants,” said Jared. “Daddy locked the shop door and wouldn’t let us in.”
    “Jared!” warned LeRoy.
    “He never locks the door,” said Zeke. “He told me to use the bushes, but I didn’t.”
    “You told him to what ?” said Sarah.
    “Zeke!” snapped LeRoy. “Enough!”
    Sarah sat down again at the head of the table with her knitting. “I take it you had a tough day.”
    LeRoy grunted.
    “Why don’t you take the boys fishing this weekend?”
    Zeke bounced in his seat. “Yay! Fishing!”
    LeRoy hung his jacket next to the refrigerator and sat in his usual place at the end of the table.
    “Did you wash your hands, Roy?” Sarah asked.
    “Oh. Yeah.” LeRoy got up and stumbled to the sink. He turned on the hot water full blast and scrubbed his hands with the nailbrush and more soap than he needed.
    Sarah studied him. “Are you feeling all right?”
    LeRoy splashed water on his face and dried it with a dish towel. “Something at work.”
    “ Don’t use the dish towels to dry your face, Roy. You know how hard I try to keep things nice.”
    Zeke said, “Daddy’s shop stinks.”
    “ ’Cause of you.” Jared jabbed his twin with his elbow.
    “Stop it, boys,” said their mother. “You’re upsetting Daddy.” She turned to LeRoy, who’d seated himself again. “What’s bothering you anyway?”
    “Nothing,” said LeRoy. “I’ve got to go back to work after supper, finish up a job.” He tugged his napkin out of its plastic ring and spread it on his lap.
    “This is exactly what I mean.” Sarah thrust her knitting needle into the next stitch. “You spend far too much time at work. It’s affecting our family and it’s affecting your health.”
    “Stop bugging me,” snapped LeRoy.
    “I’m only thinking of you.” Sarah changed the subject. “We had a busy day at the library.”
    “Yeah?” LeRoy scowled, got up from the table, and tossed his napkin onto his untouched plate of food. “I suppose you were telling the librarians how to run the place, as usual.” He snatched his jacket from the peg.
    “LeRoy, that’s uncalled for. . . .”
    He strode out of the kitchen, through the living room, out the front door, which he slammed shut, got into his van, started the engine, and backed out of the driveway.
    The Watts lived in West Tisbury, in a small house at the end of one of the many dirt roads that branched off