Leaning my head back, I stare at the sky. “You said a hell of a lot of maybes.”
He chuckles. “Nothing in life is certain. But don’t give up all hope. I’ll help you figure out something.”
“Yeah?”
He pats my arm. “Of course. What are best friends for?” He stands up and holds out his hand. “Now, let’s get back inside.”
I take it and stand up. He’s right; I can’t give up hope. Or at least I can’t be all moody and sad around her when I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.
Once we’re back inside, Ozzie claps his hands together. “It looks like we have some time to kill. Who wants to play cards?” He opens a few drawers.
“Don’t you need to get back to the office?” I ask.
He smiles. “Nope. Reed asked me to stay up here and keep an eye on things.”
Reed asked him to stay? He must think I’d be unfocused. Well, if Ozzie left, he’d probably be right. I’d love nothing more than to spend the time I have left with Delaney in bed.
“Found some!” Ozzie shouts from the kitchen. He walks to the dining room table and sits down. “Rummy sound good?”
Delaney glances at me, then Ozzie, and shrugs. “Works for me.”
I sit and join them as Ozzie shuffles the cards.
Three hours later, I’m staring at Ozzie’s knowing smirk. “How the hell did you win every game?”
Ozzie shrugs. “I’m that good.” He stands up and stretches. “And I’m also hungry. Let’s see what’s in the kitchen.”
Delaney stands and stretches, too. “I’ve never played cards for that long.”
“We’ve had many nights of playing cards,” I say, referring to Ozzie and me.
She grins. “Many nights of cards? I figured you would be going out to bars and picking up women.”
“Danger!” Ozzie says as he walks back into the room. “Don’t answer that.”
Delaney laughs.
I debate if I should say something. I mean, I’ve been with women over the years but not that many. Before I speak up, headlights flash into the room.
I grab Delaney’s hand and get us out of sight of the window.
“Unknown car. Two men,” Ozzie says. His body is behind the hallway wall. “Wait, three men. And a second car.” His eyes meet mine.
He doesn’t have to say it. This is going to get ugly fast.
I pull Delaney into the kitchen and move a rug. Then I pull up the latch door. She stares down.
“There is a short ladder. It’s a cellar for storing potatoes.”
She glances down again. “At a lake cabin?”
I shrug. “Lightning’s parents were into storing food just in case. There’s probably some powdered corn from the nineties down there, too.”
The front door bursts open.
“Go!”
She goes down into the dark cellar. I close the door and put the rug back, then duck behind the kitchen island.
