Authors: Holley Trent
Tamara’s
coming.
Don’t
want
to
keep
her
waiting
at
the
gate.
You
don’t
really
want
to
give
her
another
reason
not
to
like
you,
would
you?”
Hell
no,
he
didn’t.
He
moved
away
from
the
door,
and
she
slammed
it
shut
so
fast,
she
nearly
caught
the
tail
of
his
shirt
in
it.
Still,
he
had
no
idea
what
he’d
done
to
alter
her
mood
so.
Tamara
hopped
down
from
Patrick’s
truck
and
jogged
toward
them
as
Astrid
and
Dana
gave
up
their
posts.
Before
Tamara
could
entreat
him
with
a
choice
selection
of
her
favorite
curses,
Felipe
pulled
open
the
back
door
and
climbed
up.
FRAMING FELIPE
–
125
–
Holley Trent
“
Mueve
,”
he
said
in
a
growl,
and
whether
or
not
Chauncey
could
translate
it,
he
scooted
all
the
way
to
the
far
door
and
pressed
his
side
against
it.
“What
are
you
doing?”
Sarah
asked,
scowling
at
him
via
the
rear-‐view
mirror
just
like
she
had
when
they’d
first
met.
They
really
had
to
stop
communicating
this
way.
“Don’t
mind
me.
I’m
just
keeping
the
young
man
company
while
you
drive.”
“Don’t
bother
him.”
Bother
him?
What
had
gotten
into
her?
He
didn’t
respond,
just
fastened
his
seatbelt
and
tried
to
make
himself
as
comfortable
as
he
could
crammed
behind
Sarah’s
seat.
He
was
pretty
sure
she
had
let
it
back
about
six
inches
just
to
make
him
that
much
more
miserable.
Once
they
were
on
the
road
with
the
turn-‐off
well
behind
them,
he
said,
“When
I
was
gone
this
last
time,
I
picked
up
a
lead.
Do
you
care?”
She
waited
a
long
while
before
answering.
“Do
I
care
about
Fabian?
Yes.”
“Why
do
you
make
it
sound
like
we’re
interchangeable?”
“You
said
it,
not
me.”
He
ground
his
teeth.
She
had
to
be
intentionally
pushing
his
buttons,
trying
to
get
a
rise
out
of
him.
Hadn’t
she
just
said
back
in
the
tree
stand
that
she
loved
him?
A
woman
who
loved
him
wouldn’t
suddenly
be
so
capricious.
So
mercurial.
It’d
felt
amazing
when
she
admitted
it.
He’d
wanted
to
take
her
away
from
all
this
shit
and
close
them
off
from
everything
else
in
the
world
for
a
while.
Just
him
and
her.
Maybe
take
her
to
Spain
and
try
to
snatch
some
of
the
vestiges
of
his
roots,
if
there
were
any
left.
Maybe
find
his
mother’s
people
in
France,
who
probably
didn’t
even
know
she
was
dead
after
all
these
years.
Felipe
had
been
too
young
to
understand
as
a
child,
but
now,
he
was
able
to
piece
together
some
of
those
whispered
conversations
his
elderly
aunt
had
on
the
phone.
His
mother
had
been
shunned
from
her
family
for
marrying
whom
they
called
“The
Spaniard.”
They
didn’t
like
that
he
was
different.
And
it
wasn’t
because
he
was
a
circus
performer.
Felipe
and
Fabian
had
always
thought
it
was
because
he
was
Spanish.
He
didn’t
have
the
pedigree
his
wife
had.
But
now
Felipe
understood
it
wasn’t
his
nationality
they
were
so
averse
to,
but
his
make-‐up.
He
was
a
freak,
just
like
the
sons
he
eventually
had.
And
now
Felipe
also
understood
that
those
nights
as
a
child
where
he
thought
someone
was
in
their
room
when
they
slept
FRAMING FELIPE
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126
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Holley Trent
but
he
could
see
no
one,
his
father
must
have
been
there.
It
explained
why
his
saint
medallion
always
showed
up
on
the
table
when
it’d
started
the
night
in
a
drawer.
He’d
felt
that
same
sort
of
awareness
when
Fabian,
nearby,
phased
into
the
air.
At
the
time,
Felipe
hadn’t
put
two
and
two
together.
His
father
was
out
there,
running
from
something
just
like
Felipe
had.
Could
he
have
been
framed
for
his
wife’s
death
just
like
Felipe
had
been
for
a
different
crime?
The
realization
sank
into
his
gut
like
hardening
cement.
His
father
might
be
alive
somewhere.
“Felipe?”
Sarah
whispered
from
the
front
seat.
When
he
snapped
out
of
his
reverie,
he
saw
Chauncey
had
fallen
asleep
with
his
head
against
the
window.
Sarah,
when
not
navigating
sharp
turns,
turned
in
her
seat
and
watched
Felipe
with
a
concerned
expression.
“What’s
wrong?”
“Just
thinking.”
“You
look
like
you
saw
a
ghost.”
“No,
querida
.
Just
thinking
about
one.”
FRAMING FELIPE
–
127
–
Holley Trent
While
Chauncey
walked
the
farm’s
perimeter
and
tracked
over
any
non-‐bear
scents,
Sarah
and
Felipe
lingered
in
the
house’s
basement
doorway.
A
bluish,
purplish
bruise
had
bloomed
along
his
jaw
and
for
a
moment,
Sarah
regretted
marring
that
handsome
face.
Then
she
remembered
why
she’d
done
it.
If
he
couldn’t
figure
out
why,
he
deserved
the
lick
and
more
like
it.
“You
said
you
had
a
lead,”
she
whispered,
finding
his
gaze
in
the
dim
light.
“Tell
me
about
it.”
“Yes.
One
of
the
Gypsies
finally
slipped
out
and
got
word
to
me
through
Eric
at
the
inn.
She’s
crafty.
Apparently,
she
was
the
one
who
told
Fabian
about
the
Shrews
and
about
Patrick.”
Ah.
“I
think
he
stumbled
over
the
psychic
tripwire
when
the
troupe
came
into
the
area.
Maybe
Patrick
walked
past
her
while
she
was
allowed
out
to
do
her
shopping
or
something.”
He
lifted
his
shoulders
in
a
shrug.
“Could
be
a
trap,
but
that’s
no
different
than
me
taking
them
by
surprise,
I
suppose.
They’ll
be
prepared
either
way.”
“Where
are
they?”
“At
the
time
of
the
message,
they
were
in
West
Virginia
moving
toward
Kentucky
state
line.
They
circled
back
around
because
Jacques
got
a
big
advance
for
a
show
in
the
area.
They’d
been
split
up
into
four
groups
to
avoid
detection.
Hadn’t
done
a
show
in
weeks,
and
I
guess
Jacques’
wallet
was
starting
to
feel
light.”
They
began
the
descent
down
the
stairs.
“Do
you
have
any
reason
to
trust
the
Gypsy?”
His
grip
on
her
waist
tightened
a
bit
as
they
alighted
on
one
rickety
step.
“I’d
like
to
trust
her.
She
knew
my
parents
quite
well.
Closest
thing
to
a
godmother
Fabian
and
I
have.”
“But
she’s
under
Jacques’s
influence.”
“I’d
say
it’s
more
like
she
fears
Jacques.
She’s
an
old
lady.
Even
before
I
left,
she’d
reached
the
point
where
she
didn’t
care
about
herself
anymore.
I
think
she’s
just
waiting
to
die.”
FRAMING FELIPE
–
128
–
Holley Trent
Just
like
those
women
at
the
strip
club.
She
shuddered
at
the
recollection.
“Shitty
way
to
live.”
They
rounded
the
corner
and
found
the
two
Visas
leaning
over
a
scavenged
checkerboard.
Their
game
pieces
were
found
bottle
caps,
buttons,
and
scraps
of
paper
that
vaguely
resembled
circles.
Judging
by
the
smug
grin
on
Mr.
Tolvaj’s
face,
he
was
winning.
Sarah
waited
for
his
opponent
to
make
his
move
before
speaking.
“Saw
you’ve
been
cleaning
up
upstairs.
Hope
you
guys
have
been
discreet.”
“We
have,”
Mr.
Tolvaj
said.
“Tried
to
get
the
stove
to
work.
Couldn’t.
Gas
is
off.”
“Ah.
Brought
you
meatball
subs
and
fries.
Still
hot.”
She
pointed
to
the
soft-‐sided
cooler
she
held
over
one
shoulder.
“And
I
guess
Patrick
was
in
a
good
mood.
Sent
you
some
beer.”
“Bless
him,”
Mr.
Tolvaj
said,
a
look
of
reminiscence
on
his
face.
“I’ve
missed
beer.”
“Me,
too,”
his
friend
said.
Sarah
handed
them
the
cooler,
and
they
moved
to
the
spindly
wooden
table
they’d
overturned
and
dusted
off.
“Been
quiet
here?”
she
asked.
Mr.
Tolvaj
nodded.
“Yes.
No
one
comes
except
the
Shrews.
We
thought
we
heard
a
bear
one
night,
but
it
may
have
been
a
natural
one.”
Chauncey
descended
the
staircase
right
at
that
moment.
Upon
seeing
the
men,
he
shrank
back,
hiding
behind
Sarah.
She
sighed.
“I
take
it
you
recognize
these
gentlemen?”
Mr.
Tolvaj
and
his
friend
laughed
heartily
and
shook
their
heads
over
their
food.
“He
is
unlike
any
bear
I’ve
ever
seen.”
Chauncey
growled,
although
it
was
so
anemic
it
wouldn’t
have
frightened
a
house
cat.
“I
saw
them
meetin’
up
with
them
other
ones
what
came
and
lured
the
bears
away.”
“And
what
did
you
do,
little
man?
You
hid.
You
ran.”
“Can’t
fight,
so
what
else
I’m
gonna
do?
Stick
my
neck
out
for
them
folks?
No
sir,
I
sure
ain’t.”
Sarah
turned
and
took
in
the
cowering
teenager.
“How
did
you
get
onto
Patrick’s
property,
anyway?
We
didn’t
catch
you
in
any
of
our
perimeter
footage.”
“Got
in
the
same
way
I
got
out.
Attached
to
your
axle.”
“You
could
have
died
doing
that,”
Felipe
said.
FRAMING FELIPE
–
129
–
Holley Trent
Chauncey
shrugged.
“I
would
have
died
for
sure
if
I’d
tip-‐toed
across
your
property
line
on
foot.
Y’all
woulda
shot
my
ass
using
one
of
them
fancy
scopes
I
bet
y’all
got.”
Mr.
Tolvaj
barked
with
laughter.
“He’s
got
a
point.”
“And
why
are
y’all
still
here?”
Chauncey
asked
the
Visas.
“Y’all
can
shift
into
pretty
much
everything.
I
done
seen
it.
Why
y’all
locked
in
this
basement?”
Mr.
Tolvaj
took
a
bite
of
his
sandwich,
and
gave
his
lips
a
dainty
press
of
his
napkin.