Rushed

“I knew you’d get the job done,” Grant boasted.

Then both of them faded from sight.  Eric stared after them, surprised.

“You came through for all of us,” admitted Edgar.  “We can’t thank you enough.”  Then he was gone, too.

A

“They’ve done their work.  Now they’re free.  You did a great job today, Eric.”

Ahead of them, he could see the vehicle that awaited them.  It was the old white limousine from the gas station.  As he watched, the door opened and Father Billy stepped out to greet him.

Eric was relieved.  The last time he saw the man, he was ru

“It’s not quite first class,” said the diminutive gas station attendant.

“It’s awesome,” Eric told him.  “I’ve never been in a limo before.”

“Truth be told, neither had most of its parts before I put them there.”

Eric laughed.  “I’m still excited.”

The little man smiled more broadly than ever.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Eric sat in the back of the old limousine, watching the trees pass by the windows, thinking about all that he’d done since he jumped out of bed that morning.

That felt like days ago instead of mere hours.

His shoulder still hurt, but not so bad.  And with nightfall, his sunburned arms and neck had grown uncomfortable.  But all things considered, he was simply thrilled to be alive.

His phone rang.  It was Karen.

“Hey baby.”

“What’s going on?  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  I’m all done.  I’m on my way home now.”

“Finally!  What happened?”

“I’ll tell you about it when I get home.  It’ll be about…  Actually, I’m not entirely sure.  Hold on.”  Lowering the phone he called out to Father Billy, “How long will it take to get me home?”

“About eight hours, probably.”

Returning his phone to his ear, he asked, “Did you catch that?”

“Yeah.  I guess you got your walking in for the year, huh?  Who was that?”

“Oh, that’s Father Billy.  He’s driving me home.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

“I’m his limo driver for the night!” Father Billy called back proudly.

“Oh.  Wow.  A limo, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m coming home in style,” Eric boasted, gri

“Cool.  No picking up girls, you two.”

“Hey, no promises.  If Father Billy wants to pick up some chicks, I’m not telling a bad-ass man of God he can’t.”

Up front, he heard Father Billy chuckle.

“I’m definitely going to pick up di

“I’ll bet you are.  You get yourself a treat.”

“I intend to.”  His eyes drifted out the window as they passed a very familiar gas station.  The pumps were gone, the door boarded shut.  The lawn where the limo sat was overrun with weeds.  It looked like no one had been there for decades.

Except that he glimpsed through the window a shiny new Coke can sitting on the corner of the desk, right where he’d left it.

“Huh…”

“What?”

“Nothing.  Just tired.  Listen, I’m going to have to go for the night.  My cell phone battery is almost dead.”

“Oh.  Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Yeah.  Try and get some sleep.”

“I’ll try.  If you’ve got any charge left when you get back in town, call and wake me up.”

“I really don’t think I’ll have any charge left.  Besides, I think I broke it at some point.  It may be a lost cause.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.  Anyway, I’d better say goodbye now.”

“Okay.  Goodbye.  I love you.”

“Love you too.  Bye.”

Eric disco

A new text message from Isabelle flashed across the screen without waiting for him to answer.

DO IT!

Laughing, Eric rolled down the window and gleefully tossed the phone out into the night.

# # #

It’s not over.

Eric’s adventures continue in

Rushed

The Unseen

Keep reading for a preview of the second book in this thrilling series.

Chapter One

Two dozen pink Gerbera daisies.  Hailey’s favorite.

The girl at the flower shop smiled too much.  Eric found it distracting.

It wasn’t an unkind smile.  It wasn’t even that there was nothing to smile about.  It wasn’t a solemn occasion.  The flowers weren’t for a funeral.  Precisely the opposite, as a matter of fact.  They were for a baby shower.  A celebration of happy expectations.  The joyfully imminent arrival of a beautiful, baby girl.  There was no reason not to smile, really…but it felt a little bit like she was laughing at him.

As she swiped his card, he eyed the bouquet.  It was bigger than he’d expected.  And so brightly colored…  He might as well walk out of the store with an armload of lit sparklers.

It was a silly thing, really.  Stupid, even.  Just some childish streak of macho pride nagging at him, asking him if he really intended to be seen in broad daylight cradling this big, pink bouquet of daisies.

It didn’t help that the girl was so young.  She looked about the same age as his high school students, barely old enough to drive a car.  And it never failed to impress him how cruel kids could be at that age, how easy it was for them to ridicule others.  And they could be especially mean-spirited toward adults.  At that age, looking out at the world, you knew everything.  Looking back from that world, from the other side of Eric’s thirty-two years, it was obvious that you really didn’t know anything.  Those differing perceptions, from two completely opposing perspectives, sometimes made it difficult to communicate.  It created a gap between them, a fissure of sorts.

Eric knew a thing or two about fissures.

His phone came to life in his pocket, buzzing urgently against his thigh.  That would be Karen.  Again.  Begrudgingly, he fished the a

“Did you get the flowers?”

“Paying for them now.”

“How do they look?”

“Very pink.”

The girl’s smile broadened.  It looked warmer now, friendlier, less mocking.  Perhaps it really had all been in his imagination.

“Hailey’ll love them.  Don’t you think?”

“Definitely.  Nothing celebrates a new life like decapitating some pretty plants.”

The girl giggled a little at this as she handed him back his debit card.

“Out with the old, in with the new,” declared Karen.

“One way of putting it, I guess.”  Eric punched in his PIN number and asked, “How are the cupcakes coming?”

“First batch is done.”

“Awesome.  You girls having fun?”

“Yes, we are.”

“That’s good.”

Eric returned his card to his wallet and lifted the bouquet off the counter.  How was he supposed to even hold this stupid thing?  They looked so delicate, yet they were heavy enough to demand a firm grip.  And while he was talking on the phone, he couldn’t even handle them with both hands.  He’d never really developed that knack for holding the phone in the crook of his neck like other people.  He always dropped the damned thing.