Round Three #3
Incensed, Billy spins and flashes six well-defined abdominal muscles, a pair of pecs that prove he spends at least a little time inside a gym, and a face red with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you, Magnolia?”
“With me?” I snarl. “Excuse me?”
“Abducted? You think it’s cute to say that word to a man minding his own business like I was?”
“You were minding your own business so damn hard, your son was at my house. Knocked on my door. Offered to come inside and visit with a friggin’ stranger.
He could’ve wandered onto the road.” I stalk closer and poke a point-making finger against his infuriatingly hard chest. “Anybody could’ve grabbed him.
I could’ve dragged him inside and done awful things to him, and you wouldn’t have known, since parenting, to you, means telling him to go the hell away instead of helping him retrieve his lost ball. ”
“I…” His brows sit heavily over fierce eyes. “What?”
“He asked for your help, but your dishwasher was apparently more important. You brought a child into this world, Detective Caster, which means his safety is your responsibility, too. They didn’t teach you that in this dumb town?”
“Don’t tell me how to parent my kid!” He mirrors me with a pokey finger. “Who the hell do you think you are? Stay out of my damn business.”
“I suppose I should step into Aria’s business then. Maybe she’d be open to hearing about my safety concerns.”
His face reddens. Hardens.
Furious.
“Did she go back to her maiden name after the divorce? I might look her up in the phone book and let her know about her son’s near abduction while on his father’s time.”
“Yowza.” Ramone slams his car door and darts along the driveway, jogging up the porch steps and stopping in the space between me and my angry neighbor.
Grinning wide—he’s the yin to Billy’s yang—he raises both hands and jockeys us apart.
“Not sure what the hell is happening here, but this looks an awful lot like a domestic dispute to me.” He swings playful eyes my way.
“You feeling domestically terrorized right now, Maggie?”
I sear Billy with my furious gaze. “I suggest you talk to your buddy about child safety and how best to parent inquisitive little boys. Jeremy was in my yard without adult supervision today, enthusiastically willing to waltz into my house. He doesn’t even know me, but the risk of spending time with a stranger was clearly his preferred choice, when the alternative was his father scolding him for simply existing. ”
Surprised, Ramone swings his gaze back to Billy. “Scolded for existing?”
“I—”
“He told Jeremy to go away and leave him alone,” I sneer. “The boy just wanted his ball.”
“You told him to leave you alone?” Ramone repeats, stunned. “Since when?”
“Since he asked the same question thirty-seven million times in a row,” Billy growls. “Jesus! I was trying to save my floors before the dishwasher destroyed them. Again. Instead, I’m out here dealing with my nosy neighbor while she throws around big-girl words, like abduction and divorce.”
“You can buy new kitchen floors,” I snap. “You can’t buy a new kid! And you definitely can’t silence the little voice in his head reminding him his dad is too damn busy to give a single shit about him.”
“Wait.” Ramone frowns. “Divorce? Who got a divorce?”
“Me and Aria.” Seething, Billy tilts to the side and slaps me with a ferocious glare. “It was petty and mean and horrible. Probably. Now, Ms. Nosy over here’s gonna call my ex-wife and snitch on me for my neglectful ways.”
“And I repeat…” Ramone’s eyes come back to me.
“Yowza. This is what the folks in my line of work call a miscommunication.” He drops his hands, but sidles closer and wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“Why don’t you and I head on over to your place and make a nice cup of tea?
” He flashes a wide smile. “We still have so much catching up to do.”
“You won’t be talking about me.” Billy stalks back to his front door, swinging it wide and stopping on the threshold.
“If I find out you’ve contributed to the Plainview gossip mill, I’m gonna whoop your ass.
If you wanna chit-chat with her, feel free, but keep my fuckin’ name out of your mouth.
And Aria’s, too.” He steps inside his house and yanks the door shut with a crash. “Jeremy!” He stomps through his house.
The thud-thud-thud against the fence stops.
“Hey, buddy. You wanna come inside and help me with this dishwasher?”
“Really?” Jeremy’s excited voice jumps an octave or two. “Can I hold the hammer again?”
“Sure.” Billy releases a breathy laugh. An exhale of exhaustion and tolerance. “Just don’t drop it on my lap again, okay? That really hurt.”
“Well…” Gritting his teeth, Ramone inches back and meets my eyes. “Guess we know why he lost his cool and sent his boy outside to play. Copping a hammer to the junk is gonna make anyone cranky, huh?”
“Sure.” I spin out of his arm and head down the steps. “I’m going home.”
“To make tea?” He dashes to the edge of the porch. “Want company?”
“No, thank you.”