Flee From Evil Page 3

  Kevin’s attention dropped to the ring again before scanning the high priced outfit and fancy shoes. Reminded him of his ex-wife. Is that what you call the deceased? An ex? Except that woman didn’t come with the hefty bank account. She was better at unloading it. Kevin had taken care of that little fault.

  “Sure, what can I do for you?” He made his smile more genuine this time. He could help Cassandra all right—right out of her inheritance. It was the reason Kevin worked the retail establishment. He’d roam the aisles, assisting customers and suggest they hire a professional for their home improvement needs. Oh yes, and he just happened to be that professional. Brilliant, if he did say so himself. A great way to case a house for valuables. He could only imagine the valuables Cassandra possessed.

  ~*~

  Aisles and aisles of paint. Aisles and aisles of lumber. Sophie tugged and redirected Tibo as he twirled and touched things, grinning like the feel of the cold metal cans and shelves brought him relief of some kind.

  Grandma had abandoned them long ago to look into the garden section.

  Mom charged through rows with the orange-vested guy who’d gone from talking her through paints to promising to give her a reasonable quote for the addition he’d build on the back of Grandma’s house. Sophie didn’t think they’d do that until after Mom finally found a job. But Grandma said she’d foot the bill, and the guy agreed to a payment plan. Mom was hooked.

  Something about him gave her the creeps. One minute, Mom was getting all defensive about Tibo. The next he was charming her into a contracting job.

  Sophie shuddered.

  Finally, they got in the line with a basket full of paints and brushes. But just as the lady in front of them finished paying …

  “Oh, I forgot the tape.”

  “Mom.” Too late, Mom was down the aisle, beyond hearing. The lady behind Sophie harrumphed.

  The cashier—who was hotter than Juan Pablo, the way his blond hair curled around his ear and his T-shirt stretched over his biceps—took the paint brush and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow.” His wink made her go all silly inside. Searching over the brush, his strong fingers pried off the price sticker, secretly flicking it to the floor under the counter. Giving Sophie a knowing look, he said, “I’ll have to get a price check on this item.”

  The woman behind sighed so hard Sophie felt the breath in her hair.

  The cashier switched his numbered sign to blink, and gave the brush to another orange-vested employee. “Can you get me a price on this?”

  He and Sophie shared a smile as he scanned the other items—carefully. They rang up on the display.

  Out of breath, Mom rushed back to the line carrying a roll of blue tape. “Got it.”

  Hot dude scanned it as his friend handed him a new brush.

  “Fifty-eight dollars and eighty three cents, total.”

  Mom released a lungful of air while pulling out her credit card. Sophie knew every penny counted right now, which is why she didn’t understand the need to repaint the bedroom or add another room, even if Grandma said she’d help with the cost. Sophie could continue to share a bed with Grandma, and Tibo liked his blow-up mattress.

  Mom pushed the cart away from the cashier.

  Sophie turned. “See ya round.” Where did that come from? She waved to the guy even.

  His smile was intoxicating. “Name’s Sky.”

  Sky. “I’m Sophie.” Down-boy, heart!

  Chapter Three

  The furniture had been pushed to the center of the room. Drop cloths were strewn over the carpet. A step ladder was placed here and there. Cassandra scanned the bedroom. She was almost ready to open the paint cans.

  First, she needed to put the hairbrushes, make-up, and curling iron into drawers. She opened a top one and cleared the junk into it … except the silver music box her grandmother had given her when she was a little girl, complete with a pile of lint balls sticking out of the top. Another one of Tibo’s idiosyncrasies—collecting lint in any container with a hinged lid.

  Cassandra picked up the music box, and read the verse again on the bottom—Jeremiah 33:3. Good one. This needed to be handled with care. She opened her lingerie drawer, and tucked it deep under her unmentionables, smiling thinking of the word her grandmother would have used for her undergarments.

  Sophie entered the bedroom in an old T-shirt and cut-off shorts, long, dark hair wrapped in a bun with a bandanna framing her hairline.

  She held out the paint can. Sea-foam green. “Are we starting with this one?”

  Cassandra planned to alternate colors on each wall. She didn’t just want it to look different in the day time. The contrasting colors would stand out even in the dim light of dawn—her most vulnerable time, when the nightmares seemed most vivid. This way she could wake up and allow her mind to move away from the memories rather than confirm them.

  Mom peeked in. “You know that Kevin guy is only going to scuff your walls when he tromps through with his equipment to build the addition.”

  Cassandra ignored her. She needed this done now. Otherwise she’d have to explain her continual trips to the couch for restful sleep.

  “Grandma.” Sophie pointed a playful, reprimand her way. Her daughter was her biggest defender since her daddy died. Cassandra couldn’t believe how much of Tim’s character shown in her.

  “Where’s Tibo?” This was Cassandra’s constant question since Tibo had learned to walk. Her quiet son would drift in and out of rooms as though only an apparition. It sometimes jolted her the way he’d appear out of nowhere, and worse, sometimes disappear.

  “He’s in the living room watching that Lots of Trucks video,” she rolled her eyes, “again.” Mom shook her head, and strode down the hall.

  “So are you going to texturize it like you did my room back in Philly?” Sophie bounced as she waited for Cassandra to pour the paint. She always looked forward to creative projects.

  “Not today, but I might add to it later.”

  “I loved the way my old bedroom walls looked like joyful clouds surrounded me.” Sophie sloshed the paint roller through the pan.

  Cassandra had loved it too. “Your dad painted those.”

  Sophie stilled. “He did?”

  “Yeah. He was actually quite the artist.”

  Sophie rolled the paint along the wall. “I never knew that.”

  Cassandra dipped a brush into the liquid to prep the trim. “He never had much time to be creative when he worked for your grandparents.” She closed her eyes at the wonder of the memory. “But he had so much fun painting that room for you.” She chuckled. “It’s probably why you see the joy in those clouds. That’s how he felt when he painted them.”

  Sophie’s smile grew as she stretched the roller up and down the wall. “We need to make joyful clouds in here.”

  “Hm. Too much to do.”

  Mom showed up in the doorway again, holding Cassandra’s ringing cell. “I think it’s that Kevin guy. It says ‘unavailable.’” He was the only call she got regularly that said that.

  Cassandra grabbed it from her. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Whitaker. I thought I’d stop by today and look at the house for the addition.”

  “Oh. Hang on.” She peeked at her mom. “What time is that hair appointment?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  “And don’t forget. You promised to drop me and Tibo off at the pool.”

  “Yes, Sophie, you’ll get there. But remember to be ready to come home by five. Tibo’s new behavior therapist is coming for a home visit tonight.”

  Sophie nodded.

  Cassandra spoke into the phone. “Sorry, Kevin. I don’t think there’ll be any time today. Can we try tomorrow?”

  “I’ll have to call you back as soon as I get my schedule from the store.”

  “Okay.”

  She clicked off and handed the cell to her mother.

  Mom sighed. “I can’t wait till all this upheaval fades.” She disappeared down the hall
, grumbling all the way.

  Sophie and Cassandra caught gazes and laughed. Cassandra turned serious. “Don’t forget to watch Tibo at the pool. He still can’t swim, and you know how he sometimes drifts off when you’re not looking.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom.” Though her daughter said it flippantly, Cassandra knew she took her role as big sister to Tibo very seriously. He would never come to harm in Sophie’s care. She hoped.

  ~*~

  Sophie showed her membership card to the lifeguard at the entrance. Finally, a chance for some fun, though she’d have to keep an eye on Tibo in the shallow end of the pool.

  “Potty.”

  Not this now! “Tibo, I told you to do that before we left.”

  He gave her the puppy-dog eyes that always made her melt. “Potty.”

  She glanced between the restroom signs. One silhouette in a dress. The other in pants. Sophie had no choice but to take this growing boy into the ladies dressing room so he wouldn’t pee in the pool.

  She stood at the entrance, shook out the towel from her bag, and wrapped it around her little brother’s eyes making him look like the Disney Aladdin. She didn’t want to freak out any of the less-than-modest dressers who pranced around as though the world should appreciate their naked perfection. Otherwise, he’d just stand inside the middle of the men’s room waiting for directions that never came, unless Sophie accompanied him there.

  Yeah, that’d work.

  Sophie blew the hair from her face. Times like these, she missed her dad for Tibo’s sake and not just her own.

  After nudging her blindfolded brother to a stall, she stepped inside, locked the door, and unwrapped his head. “Go potty,” she said and waited for the waterfall sound to stop, while praying silently no one would see them leaving the stall together.

  No luck. An elderly woman shot her a pointed glare. “Boys that age don’t belong in the women’s dressing room.”

  Sophie barely made eye contact. “He has autism.”

  The woman scanned him up and down. “So.”

  “He can’t speak or understand enough to—”

  She harrumphed and tromped away.

  Sophie heard more voices so she wrapped the towel over his eyes, and nudged him toward the door.

  Just as they crossed the threshold …

  “You playing hide and seek?”

  There he was. The hotter-than-Juan-Pablo home improvement cashier—Sky—sans orange vest. In fact, as testified by Sophie’s pounding pulse, he was sans shirt as well.

  His lips tilted as he awaited her answer. Oh yeah, he’d asked a question.

  “Uh …” She glanced toward the dressing room. “He had to go to the bathroom, and—”

  His eyebrows jumped. “You took him into the ladies’ room?”

  Now she felt like a complete dork. “He has autism. He needs help in the bathroom.”

  Sky’s expression fell. “Oh.” He pivoted to the sound of a car roaring beyond the chain-link fence, and seemed to tense.

  The sound startled her as well. Sophie took Tibo’s hand, tugging him to the grassy area. “Well, it was nice seeing you again.”

  “Hey wait.” He strode up beside her. “Your name’s Sophie, right?”

  Her breath caught.

  The red sports car peeled out of the parking lot, making Sophie jolt. Man, this guy’s proximity wound her tight.

  Sky chuckled as his eyes followed the flashy vehicle to the exit. “Some dudes need to show off.” He turned his gaze back to her. “What’s your brother’s name?”

  “Tibo.” They entered the grassy area.

  “Nice to meet you, Tibo.” Sky touched Tibo’s shoulder.

  Tibo stopped and peered up at him.

  Sky smiled.

  “Ask him to high-five.”

  Sky did and Tibo slapped his hand with a proud giggle, before launching into twirls.

  “Is he doing that because I high-fived him?”

  “No. That’s a perseveration.”

  “A persever-what?”

  “Something kids with autism do over and over again to calm themselves.”

  “Oh.” Sky seemed mesmerized by the action. “What would happen if he didn’t do it? Would he get upset?”

  “Some kids might have a meltdown. Tibo’d probably just be extra anxious.”

  Sky shook his head. “Doesn’t that make him dizzy?”

  Sophie tugged at Tibo to continue forward. “Only if he goes in the wrong direction.”

  Sky pointed to a lounge chair. “Why don’t you put your stuff with mine? It’s right near the edge of the pool so you can keep an eye on it.”

  Sophie’s mouth dropped opened. Was this guy wanting to hang out with her? Scanning the property, she must have spotted at least ten other girls who filled out their shapely bathing suits better than she did her girlie pink one, and yet Sky was here with her.

  “What do you say?”

  Her pulse took off, and her cheeks warmed to a thousand degrees. “Um, sure.”

  That began the most wonderful three hours she’d ever spent at a public pool. Sky showed Tibo and her, every nook and cranny of fun. He ran through the sprinklers and sprays with Tibo. He gave Tibo rides on his shoulders in the deep end, caught him at the bottom of the slide, and even made sand castles in the volleyball area.

  She’d have been jealous of her little brother if it weren’t for the flirtatious smiles and genuine questions Sky asked to get to know her better. It was definitely unfamiliar territory. Most guys she knew monopolized the conversation with rambling stories of their sporting achievements. She almost felt naked from unveiling so much of herself—her favorite music, favorite subject in school, favorite books and movies. He seemed to be fascinated by everything she said.

  There was the one awkward moment when she told him about her father’s death, but he seemed to recover better than most—by splashing her.

  They discovered they’d be going to the same high school in the fall, only he would be two grades ahead of her.

  Sky leaned against the edge of the pool, tilting his beautifully tanned face to the sun. “Have you started driving yet?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve got another year before I get my license.” Did that make her seem like a little girl?

  He opened his eyes and captured her gaze. “So. You can still learn in an empty parking lot somewhere, like at the school. My uncle taught me from the time I was fourteen.”

  “Really?” She could stare at him all day.

  “Yeah. I’m a real good driver.” He pushed some water at her with a grin. “I could even teach you sometime.”

  “I’m not ready for that.” She checked on her brother making a whirlpool in the shallow end.

  Sky’s dimple twitched. “Are you ready for this?” He grabbed her arms and dropped into the deep water, pulling her under and close to him. She fell into his chest, face inches from his, heart pounding. His brown eyes locked with hers, a smile lifting his full lips as bubbles escaped between them, and their hair floated toward the top.

  She needed to breathe—for more reasons than one—so pushed to the surface. “Are you trying to kill me?” She asked the guy who was shaking his wet, golden curls at her.

  The dimple deepened on one cheek. “Nope. Just having a little fun.”

  Chapter Four

  Cassandra’s muscles released as the warm water drizzled over her hair and into the shampoo bowl at Kat’s hair salon.

  “I have a rinse that would really make your hair glow.”

  Between the energy in Kat’s voice and the word glow, Cassandra imagined a neon sign on her head. “No, that’s okay.” Plus if the rinse cost even a dollar more, she needed to conserve it.

  “So you said your husband is a mechanic?” When would Cassandra even have the money to get the needed repairs on her car done?

  Her mother peeked from the side of the magazine she was reading. “Billy’s the best. And reasonable too.”

  Kat turned off the water and let the hose drop in
to the hole at the edge of the sink. “No, the best would be his father, Lew. But Lew won’t work for Billy. He’s a driver for a delivery company, now.”

  Cassandra loved the feel of Kat scrubbing at her temples. Even the jangle of her bracelets sounded like wind chimes. “Why won’t he work for Billy?” Something about this woman felt so open. Maybe it was the profession. People often said hairdressers—and bartenders—were like therapists. Cassandra felt she could ask almost anything. Maybe even tell her … well, not tell her everything.

  Kat rinsed her hair again. “They fought a lot when Billy was a kid, and Lew wasn’t around much otherwise. He was a dirt-track race car driver, and traveled a bunch. Billy’s been tryin’ to patch things between them, but Lew can’t see that. Lew thinks it’s just cuz Billy wants him to help with the car-care ministry.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Lew won’t have anything to do with church-folk.”

  If Cassandra’s car only needed what that ministry provided, minor maintenance work, she wouldn’t feel so bone dry when it came to finances.

  “Kat, what do you know about job openings?” Mom seemed to read her mind.

  A muffled jangle accompanied the hairdresser’s toweling of Cassandra’s hair. “What kind of work experience do you have?”

  Cassandra sighed. She hadn’t worked outside the home since she’d waitressed at the country club sixteen years ago. Sophie was born her first year of marriage and Tim agreed for her to stay home.

  “She developed a special-needs program at the church she used to go to.”

  Kat’s fingers stilled.

  “Mom, that’s not work. I volunteered, hoping to provide something for Tibo.”

  “It was a beautiful program, and attracted lots of new families who wouldn’t have come to the church if it hadn’t been there.”

  Cassandra loved her Mom. Seeing only the best in Cassandra’s small accomplishments. Even if she was also blind to the faults of pastors. “Mom—”

  Kat lifted the seat back from the sink. “You should talk to Pastor Vince.”

  A throbbing began in Cassandra’s head. Was the hairdresser a Vince groupie too?