Orchid Beach (Holly Barker 1)

He held up his hands in front of him. “Yes, ma’am, I get the picture. We’ll be on our way just as soon as we can get our stuff in the van.”

“That’s the idea,” Holly said. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Holly walked back to the car, where Daisy was looking anxiously out the window. “I’m back,” she said to the dog. “No need to worry. We’ll go home and get you some dinner.”

The mention of dinner got a favorable reaction.

When Holly got back to her trailer, there was a car in her parking spot. Daisy made a low noise in her throat. Holly drew her gun.

CHAPTER

17

T he car was a Toyota Camry, late eighties, before the new design came along. She was impressed by its condition—no dents or rust, clean, polished. Daisy was still making the noise; she preceded Holly around the corner of the trailer.

“Easy there,” Jackson Oxenhandler was saying, holding out his hands toward the dog, as if to fend her off.

“Daisy, stop,” Holly said. Daisy stopped, but she continued to growl.

“I’m not a burglar,” the lawyer said to the dog. “Look,” he said, holding up a large paper bag, “I brought dinner.”

“Daisy, he’s all right. Good dog,” Holly said. Daisy stopped growling, walked over to Oxenhandler and sniffed the bag.

“Good dog,” Oxenhandler said. He offered her the back of his hand to sniff. “Doesn’t smell as good as the bag, does it?”

“Who invited you to dinner?” Holly asked.

“Nobody. I’m inviting you.” He held up the bag again. “You like barbecue?”

Holly’s stomach woke up and growled, as if on cue. “I like good barbecue,” she said.

“This is the best,” Oxenhandler said, pointing at the bag. “Pit-roasted, hand-basted, from an extremely attractive pig.”

“How come you’re so anxious to go out with me?” she asked.

“Because I find you overwhelmingly attractive,” he replied.

“That’s hard to argue with, I guess.”

He held up the bag again. “It’s really good barbecue.”

Holly’s mouth watered. “I accept,” she said, then smiled.

“That took a long time,” he said.

“What?”

“That smile. First one I’ve seen on you.”

“First one I’ve worn since I came to this town,” she said. “You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

She motioned him off her doorstep, unlocked the trailer door and motioned Daisy inside. “Daisy, bring the gentleman a beer,” she said. Daisy disappeared and came back half a minute later with a Heineken in her jaws, surrendering it to Oxenhandler.

“That,” he said, “is a very valuable dog.”