“Well, when they do start showing up, I hope I can make a more graceful first impression.” I snort. “Margaret called me this morning, and I had to admit what happened. She couldn’t believe I took you to Mimi’s instead of go to the hospital.”
Beau laughs lightly. A short sound but not at all shallow. Beau Montgomery has one of those deep voices that you feel in your chest when he starts chuckling or talking.
It helps that the road we’re traveling curves a little, and in the distance, I can see our next stop.
“Well, looks like you get to experience all the small-town quirks and oddities before them.” I flash him a smile and pull into the gravel parking lot that needs cleaning up. There’s a building in front of it, an old warehouse that was converted before it was left empty. I wave my hands out to it. “Including the fact that almost everything and everyone in this town has some kind of nickname. Beau, meet Low Low.”
I don’t move to get out; he doesn’t either, so I stay seated and explain.
“Started before Mr. King bought the ranch, this was supposed to be an animal shelter for the town but never really got going before the previous owner passed.”
“And it’s called Low Low?”
“Technically, it’s the Blue Lolita Animal Shelter, but one of the kids atLa Lumierecouldn’t pronounce Lolita and instead went for location.” I motion to the land around the building and then across from it. “There’s no water here now, but when it rains good enough, water collects in the field since this portion of the ranch is sloped. You know,low. This is also considered the ‘bottom’ of the ranch. The boundary line is about a hundred yards thataway, along with an access road that leads to Winn Parish Road 22. We call it Winn 22, mostly.”
“So the shelter isn’t just low, it’s low-low.”
I shrug. “What can I say? Nicknames are powerful in a place like this.”
I give him more bullet points on Low Low. A part of me wants to ask what his plans are with the abandoned refuge, but he beats me to the punch for conversation.
“What’sLa Lumiere? That’s French, right?”
I nod.
I’m uncomfortable.
“It means ‘the light,’” I answer. “It’s a part of a longer name but—”
“Nicknames are powerful in a place like this,” Beau finishes.
I nod again. “La Lumiereis easier on the tongue.” It’s the one easy thing about the place. “It’s aprivateneighborhood of sorts. A community within the community.” I give him vague directions, hoping he doesn’t realize that’s where we stopped last night. “The people there are a very private bunch, and they like it that way. You’ll only ever really see a few fromLa Lumierein town, and usually at the bar.” I make sure to keep my eyes on the road as I add, “Guidry, Everett Guidry, is like their version of a town representative. But obviously, on a smaller scale.”
“That soundscozy.”
“It’s just part of living in Robin’s Tree. Every town has their something or other that’s a bit different from the rest, I guess.”
Beau’s tone changes.
It becomes hard. Cold.
It gets me to look at him for a moment.
“They sure do,” he says.
I want to know what he means, but we’re both distracted when a sound neither of us expects to hear splits through the air.
It’s a scream.
And it’s coming from the animal shelter.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Beau
I’mquick despite my leg.
I’m out of the truck and move toward the building with a minimal limp. All while telling Kissy to stay in the vehicle.
