Free To Sketch a Thief by Sharon Pape Page B

far too much. It was all so comical that Rory couldn’t help laughing along with him. But as the laughter subsided, the conversation they’d had earlier popped into her mind and demanded her full attention. What about it was bothering her? As far as she could recall, it had been brief and ordinary. He hadn’t said anything news shattering, yet all sorts of worrisome alarms had started going off in her head, as if she were bearing down on a Titanic -sized iceberg.
    “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” Zeke asked, still grinning.
    And then she realized what it was. “How did you know it was Helene at the door?”
    Zeke’s smile faded and he looked at her oddly. “Have you plumb forgotten how many times you and your family visited Mac in this house, darlin’?”
    Rory hadn’t forgotten. She’d just failed to connect the dots. Of course Zeke knew what they all looked like, as well as how they sounded, and probably a hundred other things. Including things she might not have wanted him to know. It was entirely too creepy to dwell on, which was why, from the moment she’d met Zeke, she’d pushed the thought to the back of her mind and buried it under bushels of information she never intended to use again, like geometric formulas and the battles of the French and Indian War. Now that he’d forced her to drag that knowledge out into the light of day, she was having trouble accepting that Mac had been so cavalier about the family’s privacy.
    “Mac didn’t mind you hanging around while we were here?” she asked. “He never set up any rules or anything?”
    “Now, don’t you go thinkin’ that Mac sold you out,” Zeke said, as if he was able to read her thoughts from the set of her face. “Mac and I had us a very different relationship than you and I have. We were both men, lawmen, and we respected each other’s integrity. He took it on faith that I wouldn’t go crossin’ any boundaries of decency. When someone trusts you like that, you want to prove their trust is well placed.” Zeke’s face relaxed into a smile again. “Besides, it never bothered him if I floated an object now and then or provided the occasional strange noise. For my part, I generally abstained from that sort of thing around his family. But his friends were fair game, especially if they’d been drinkin’. Truth be told, he and I had us some good laughs over the reactions of some of them. And he usually managed to convince them it was all the alcohol.”
    In spite of Zeke’s explanation, Rory felt like the unwitting star of some bizarre reality show. It bothered her to know that Mac had allowed it to continue and, by his silence, condoned it. Yet in all fairness, she had to admit that it was very Mac-like not to take such things too seriously.
    “I have a question for you,” Zeke said, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you fixin’ to tell everyone who comes into this house about me?”
    Rory found herself momentarily speechless. “Well, I . . . I guess I would, if you’d be willing to show yourself so that they don’t bundle me off to the nearest asylum.”
    “Well, now, you know I can’t do that. In fact, you’re the one who keeps warning me to keep a low profile or quick as a cottontail there’ll be news people, ghost hunters and whatnot all over the damned place.”
    Rory realized he was right. It didn’t make her feel any better about having been a bug under the marshal’s microscope for all those years, but at least she understood why Mac had remained silent about his housemate. When Zeke had insisted that he didn’t want to be paraded around like some dog and pony show, the truth was that he couldn’t risk letting anyone else know that he existed. And now, like Mac, neither could she.
    “My uncle didn’t feel the need for rules,” she said, trying to find her equilibrium again, “but as you know, I do.” She had to try to mitigate the Big Brother aspect of having Zeke around. “I expect you to