Free Flee From Evil by Connie Almony Page B

rushing?”
    Grandma’s gaze seemed to follow a boat motoring up to the pier alongside The Dock Bar and Grill. “Well, the clientele gets a little rough after dinner hours.”
    “What do you mean rough?” Mom speared Grandma with that glare that brought shivers to Sophie’s spine.
    Grandma cleared her throat. “Seedy. Drunken. Not-quite-law-abiding.” She nodded toward the guys tying up the boat, and Sophie suddenly wondered what was in those back packs they carried.
    “Criminals?” Mom’s eyes went wide.
    “Shh.” Grandma waved her hand. “Not so loud.”
    “Mom, you brought us to a haven for the underworld?” she whispered with force. “Why would you do that?”
    Grandma wiped her mouth with the paper crab-eating bib, folded it, and placed it on the table. “They have the best crabs in town.”
    The front door opened and Pastor Vince entered. Mom’s jaw hardened. “More riff-raff. What’s your pastor doing here?”
    What did Mom have against the guy? He was always nice to Sophie.
    “Pastor Vince comes often. He became friends with a lot of folk here when he dealt drugs.” The words sounded funny coming from Grandma’s mouth. Like it was an okay part of his life.
    Sophie still couldn’t believe the man had been a dealer. He looked so tidy, upper-crusty too.
    Grandma nodded to the pastor. “See the guy he’s talking to at the table? He shared a jail cell with Vince.”
    The pastor passed to the bar.
    “And that guy owns a pawn shop around the corner. Most people think it’s a fence for stolen goods.”
    Mom’s mouth hung. “This is your pastor?”
    A lot different from Pastor Johnson back in Philly. But Sophie kind of liked the guy. She thought about what her father would’ve said. “Isn’t that what Jesus would do, Mom? Hang out with tax collectors and sinners.”
    Mom threw her bib on the plate. “You mean the IRS is here too? Sheesh! What a dump.”
    Sophie rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
    Mom’s smile felt like love as she patted Sophie’s hand. “Yes, I do. And you’re right about Jesus. It’s just that pastor I question.”
     
    ~*~
     
    Vince felt her presence even before he saw her. She’d always had that power over him—one he thought he could control when he made that bet with Drew—his once best friend—so many years ago. He’d conquer Cassandra, The Pure. He’d reasoned it would be like fighting fire with fire, taking control of his growing feelings—the ones that made men weak—according to his father, at least.
    She was like a magnet, drawing his gaze, but he fought it while he grasped the hand of his former cell mate, Chen, who’d done time for burglarizing homes. Vince felt her stare, and knew the hurried speech of her mother filled in his connection to the guy. He almost shook his head with the realization it was another black mark against him. He looked to the ceiling reminding himself he’d been washed of those.
    Really? What did it matter anyway? She’d hate him forever for what he did. Why should he care that she’d found out about his jail time?
    He slapped a handshake with Eddie at the bar.
    “S’up, man.” Eddie glanced at the family preparing to leave before his eyebrow twitched.
    Cass stood and blew a curl from her face. Something about the gesture pulled at a memory of her serving his table at the country club. He’d smiled at her as she cleared the table, and she’d done a double-take. He’d chuckled at the incredulous expression on her face as she turned away and hoofed it to the kitchen.
    His father had almost stopped the conversation with his business partner to congratulate him on his ability to fluster the female help. Dear ole Dad saw that as Vince’s greatest asset—charming the ladies to get them to do whatever he wanted. That’s the other reason the bet with Drew had appealed to him. It seemed a slam-dunk. Easy money.
    Cass brushed at her skirt, straightened, and took her son into the Ladies’ Room.
    “Hey Vince.”