surprised they haven’t sued for defamation of inventory or something.”
“Defamation of inventory?” Kelly’s eyebrows rose in question.
“If it’s not already on the books, I’m sure there’s a lawyer somewhere who could make a case for it,” Shannon assured her.
“Probably. But that’s not the point.”
“What point?”
“Precisely! We’ve gotten away from the point.”
Laughing, Shannon dropped her pencil and leaned back in her chair. “I feel like I’ve fallen into an Abbott and Costello routine. You’re not going to ask me who’s on first, are you?”
“I’m trying to tell you what Rhonda Whittaker told me,” Kelly said sternly. “And you’re not making it easy.”
“Sorry.” Shannon did her best to look meek, but there was a suspicious tuck in her cheek and her eyes were bright with humor. “What did Rhonda tell you?”
“Reece Morgan is here.”
“In the shop?” Shannon’s eyes widened in surprise.
“No, you idiot. In Serenity Falls. Rhonda saw him herself. He stopped at the ’76 gas station on the north end of town. Rhonda was getting gas there when this mean-looking black pickup truck pulled in.”
“How does a truck look mean?” Shannon interrupted. “Did it lift its front bumper in a sneer?”
“Do you want to hear the story or do you want to ask irrelevant questions?” Kelly asked, exasperated.
“I’ll be quiet,” Shannon promised meekly.
“Thank you.” Kelly cleared her throat. “As I was saying, a black pickup pulled in.”
“A mean-looking black pickup,” Shannon reminded her helpfully.
“And a man got out of it.”
“Elvis?”
“Rhonda recognized him right away,” Kelly continued, ignoring the interruptions.
“If he was wearing one of those spangled jumpsuits, I wouldn’t think that would be very hard.”
“It was Reece Morgan.”
“In a spangled jumpsuit?”
“He was wearing jeans, a black T-shirt and black boots.”
“No sequins?” Shannon asked, disappointed.
“Rhonda said he looked mean.”
“She thought his truck looked mean, too.” Shannon reminded her.
“Rhonda does sometimes let her imagination run wild,” Kelly admitted. “But however he looked, we at least know he’s back in town.”
“Unless it’s really Elvis or Paul McCartney,” Shannon murmured wickedly.
Kelly shook her head. “Rhonda wouldn’t have been nearly as interested in one of them. She said it was definitely Reece Morgan. They were in the same class. She said she’d have known him anywhere.”
Shannon shook her head, her soft mouth twisting in a half smile. Until she moved to Serenity Falls, she’d never lived in the same place for more than two or three years. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have lived in the same town your whole life, to be able to recognize a classmate from twenty years before.
“I never really thought Reece would come back here,” Kelly said.
“His grandfather left the house to him. It seems reasonable that he’d want to go through everything himself.”
“From what I’ve heard of his relationship with the old man, it doesn’t seem likely that Reece would come back looking for mementos,” Kelly said, shaking her head. “Everyone says they were pretty much oil and water.”
“Is this the same ‘everyone’ who saw Paul McCartney eating oats at the health food store?” Shannon asked dryly.
“It was barley, and even Frank says they didn’t get along.” Frank was Kelly’s husband. “He was a couple of years younger than Reece, but he knew him pretty well since Reece and Frank’s older brother were friends. He says Reece’s grandfather was a flinty old bastard.”
“I can’t argue with that description,” Shannon said, thinking of the old man who’d lived in the house next to hers. Tall and spare with a military bearing that made no concessions to age, he’d offered her a brief, rather formal welcome when she first moved in. For the next four years, their contact had been limited to an exchange of hellos if their paths happened to cross at the mailboxes. In all that time she couldn’t ever remember seeing him smile or even look as if he knew how.
“If Reece has come back to stay, you’re going to be living next door to him,” Kelly said, giving her a speculative look.
Shannon had no trouble reading the expression in her friend’s eyes. She shook her head. “Forget it. I am not going to spy on the man just to satisfy your curiosity.”
“No one said anything about spying,” Kelly said, all injured innocence. “But living next door to him, you’re bound to get to know him.”
“I lived next door to his grandfather for four years and the only thing I know about him was that he put out the neatest piles of trash I’ve ever seen. I think they were color coordinated.”
“Reece doesn’t sound like the type to color coordinate his trash.”
“It’s been twenty years since anyone in this town has seen him. He could have changed.”
“From hellion to neatnik?” Kelly wrinkled her nose. “Doesn’t sound likely.”
“Anything’s possible.” Shannon dropped the index cards on top of the calendars, scooped them all into a haphazard stack and thrust them at Kelly. “Here. Make yourself useful. Feed these into your magic machine and give me back a schedule.”
“Aren’t you in the least bit curious about Reece?” Kelly asked as she took the papers. “I mean, what if he’s an escaped felon or something?”
“Right.” Shannon’s tone was dry as dust. “If I were an escaped felon, I’d make it a point to hide out in the one place where everyone knew me, in the one place the police would be sure to look for me, in the one place where I couldn’t possibly hide my presence. And I’d drive into town, in broad daylight, driving a mean-looking truck, wearing a spangled jumpsuit and buying barley at the natural food store.”
“You’re getting your celebrities mixed up,” Kelly pointed out, grinning. “Reece was driving the truck but he wasn’t wearing a jumpsuit and no one has seen him eating barley.”
“It’s only a matter of time.” Shannon waved one hand. “By the end of the day, the rumor mill will probably have him arriving in a spaceship complete with bug-eyed aliens for escort.”
Kelly laughed. “We haven’t had any alien sightings around here since Milt Farmer gave up corn liquor and found religion.”
“With Reece Morgan returning, can aliens be far behind?” Shannon’s smile lingered as she moved toward the front of the shop to wait on the customer who had just entered.
Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder about her new neighbor. After everything she’d heard about him, she was more than a little curious to actually meet the man in the flesh. The image in her mind was a cross between a young Marlon Brando and the Terminator. What a disappointment it was going to be if he turned out to be a plump, balding accountant.
Chapter 2
Groaning, Reece rolled over and opened his eyes. This must be what it felt like to spend a night on the rack, he thought, as he inventoried an assortment