Free Dead Lift by Rachel Brady

ending.
    He grinned. “I still don’t know who you are.”
    I cleared my throat. Told to the wrong person, a lie could be dangerous. “Emily Locke. A new acquaintance of Claire’s.”
    He nodded, but didn’t answer.
    My instinct was to ask why he was there, but his extreme level of comfort and familiarity with the place put me on alert. If anything, I should probably have been justifying myself to him. But the circumstances were too delicate. I didn’t know which of Claire’s friends knew what about her recent tangle with the law.
    He offered me a beer, but I shook my head.
    “Coke then?”
    Soft drinks weren’t my thing, but I wanted to be cordial. “Sure. Thanks.”
    He opened the fridge, put the beer back, and came out with a ginger ale. It was the third time in as many months that a local had used the term “Coke” to mean any damn kind of soft drink. This was another peculiarity about Houston life that made me feel like Alice after she’d fallen down the rabbit hole.
    I didn’t like ginger ale, but opened it anyway.
    He leaned backward on the sink and took a swig. I propped myself in the archway leading toward the enormous downstairs hallway and forced a swallow. Too chicken to volunteer why I’d come, but uncomfortable with our silence, I took the age-old cop out. “How long do you give this rain?”
    He laughed. “You’re kidding.”
    “What?”
    “You live in a cave? Tropical storm just hit between Beaumont and Lake Charles.”
    “A tropical storm?” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a chance to read the paper or watch the news.
    Kevin took another sip. “
Elena
.” The way he drew out the storm’s name made it sound sexy and intriguing, like an unforgettable woman he may have once spent the night with. “Southwest Freeway’s flooding. Better stay off the roads tonight.” He opened the freezer door. “I’m not staying myself. Just stopped by as a favor to Logan.”
    Before I registered what he meant, Kevin dropped something hard into the sink. It landed with a loud
thwack
as if he’d tossed in a rock.
    “Is that—”
    “These guys take a while to thaw. I’ll come back when the storm lets up.” He paused. “You ever feed a snake?”
    I shook my head.
    “Amazing the way their jaws stretch.” He looked out the window. “I didn’t see a car outside. You need a ride somewhere?”
    “My ride’s coming.”
    Kevin finished off the rest of his beer and wrangled back into his wet poncho. “Nice meeting you. Stay dry.”
    I nodded a goodbye and he pulled open the backdoor. The rain was diagonal and loud. Somewhere out of sight, wind chimes were being abused by the gusts, their notes uncharacteristically angry. Kevin closed the door behind him with powerful finality and when the house fell silent in his absence, my unsettled, spooky feeling returned. The lights browned out, and I knew Kevin was right. If I didn’t want to get stuck on impassable roads, it was time to go home. I went back upstairs toward my phone, picking up the cedar box on my way. Through the foyer window I watched Kevin’s Mustang pull out of the drive.
    I checked my phone. The calls I’d ignored had been from Vince and I dialed him right away without bothering to play his messages.
    “You okay?” I could hear the concern in his voice.
    “Sort of. I’m at the client’s house. Jeannie’s coming for me.”
    “Jeannie’s with me,” he said. “I thought y’all were at that gym so I went over with the truck when I heard about the flooding.”
    “It only started raining a few hours ago. How can there be flooding?”
    “This ain’t Ohio, woman. You’re at sea level now. Nowhere for water to go.”
    “So am I stuck here?”
    “At least for a while. Guy in front of us has water to his axles. We’ve been in the car twenty minutes and gone maybe a half-mile. Turn on the TV, you’ll see.”
    I wished I’d been at that snooty gym. Then at least I’d be with Vince and Jeannie instead of stranded