Free B00BSH8JUC EBOK by Celia Cohen Page A

throbbing. Its official name was the Forest House, but it was universally called by its nickname because the two women who owned it both were named Holly. Fortunately one was tall and one was short, so they were known as Big Holly and Little Holly.
    After dinner, Jaws and I helped Julie clean up, while Randie changed out of her uniform. She came back looking really slinky in a clingy black shirt and slacks, and Julie slipped into the bedroom with her before they said they were ready to go.
    Randie drove us out there. The evening had gotten even colder. The heater was going full blast, but the Jeep window beside me still felt like ice. I looked outside. Bold constellations were the only light, burning above the silhouettes of pine trees bending and shaking in the wind. It was so dark and peaceful and perfect, sitting there in the back of the Jeep, with Randie and Julie in the front and Jaws next to me primly holding my hand. I wouldn’t have cared if some omnipotent presence had reached down and sealed us for all eternity in that moment in time.
    There was no landmark for the Hollies, only an inconspicuous break in a low stone wall. I had passed by countless times without knowing what it was. Randie turned in, the gravel lane crunching under her tires. We followed the drive as it twisted through a thick grove of pines until we came to a clearing where the tidy brick inn was situated, its first story windows lit charmingly by single candles like something out of colonial times. Outside the Jeep, snatches of music were blown to us on the wind.
    The Hollies were doing a business that Friday night. The parking lot was filled, mostly by cars with local license plates that had come for the evening, but also by some with out-of-state plates there for the weekend.
    Randie put an arm around me and walked me toward the door, leaving Julie to take care of Jaws. “Whatever you see here stays here,” she said. “Okay?”
    I nodded, quite curious now. As soon as we entered, shrugging off the chill, I understood why. I saw a couple of teachers from school at a table for two, leaning toward each other so closely their breasts nearly touched. I saw a softball coach from the team we beat in the semifinals melted against another woman in a slow dance, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I saw a U.S. senator, who must have arrived in that Mercedes in the parking lot with the out-of-state tags.
    “Well, look who it is!” said a large woman with a voice to match. She strolled up as if she owned the place, which of course she did.
    “Hello, Holly,” Randie said, a lilt of challenge in her tone. I wondered why, but not for long.
    Holly wrapped Randie in a bone-crunching hug, and Randie crunched back. When their bodies finally separated, they left their hands locked in a sizzling grip that made them look like a couple of arm wrestlers sizing each other up for combat.
    “What are you doing here, copper? My protection money is all paid up,” Big Holly said loudly. Heads turned. The U.S. senator looked as though she was going to pass out.
    “Haven’t you heard? The rates are going up,” Randie said.
    Big Holly disengaged from their handshake and gestured at me. “What’s this? A junior partner?”
    “You guessed it,” Randie said.
    “So I have to start paying for her, too?”
    “Not necessarily. Only if you want to save your kneecaps,” Randie said.
    Big Holly tried to say something back, but she couldn’t keep herself from laughing. Randie laughed, too, and they got so silly about it they set most of the customers off, too, particularly the ones who clearly had seen this routine before. The senator looked vastly relieved.
    “So this is Kotter,” Big Holly said.
    “Yeah, this is Kotter,” I said. The handshake she gave me was gentle, not at all the bearlike squeeze he had given Randie, and I took the opportunity to get a good look at her. Big Holly’s face was wide and open, her hair was red and pulled back, and her eyes were trusting,