Mystic Hearts by Cait Jarrod Page A

Charlene. “If I need something, I’ll use
Grandma’s phone to call you.”
    “Sounds
like a plan.” She squeezed him tight, rose, and kissed her mom on the cheek.
“Thanks.”
    “No
problem, me and my hooligan friend will enjoy his company.” Doris laughed and
guided Henry to the back door. “Pancakes are in the refrigerator.”
    “Thank
you.” Charlene followed, locked the door, and watched them skip to her mother’s
car. Skipping? Her mother cracked her
up.
    Fear
that Andrew, or anyone, could possibly break into their home urged her upstairs
and to the bedroom. She swung open the closet door and grabbed the baseball
bats she’d stashed in the corner.
    Until
today, considering that an intruder could invade her place had never entered
her mind. Why? Chills covered her
skin. She ran downstairs and put the bats in the empty stand beside the door
and said a little prayer she’d never use them.
    The
movie would take a few hours. If she left now, she’d have enough time to drive
to the manor, look around, and return to spend the evening with Henry. She snatched
her purse and stepped outside. The warm sun and crisp, fresh air heated her
skin and relaxed her muscles.
    She
stopped dead.
    Where’s my
brain?
    Larry
drove her home last night. She flopped down on the porch steps of her white
brick rambler, grabbed her cell from inside her purse, and searched through the
contact lists. On a weekday, in the middle of the afternoon, who’d have it off?
A few of the neighbors were school teachers, but today was a work day. Maybe
one of them would give her a ride.
    Her
cell rang. Celine Marx’s name flashed on the screen. Perfect . “Hi.”
    “I’m
so pissed at Steve right now. What are you doing? Want to have a beer?” Celine
was the only member of the BOFs that rambled.
    “Sounds
like a plan, but first, I have a favor to ask. Could you give me a lift to
Greenwood Manor?”
    “Okay,
but…” The phone went silent before Celine said, “You stayed there last night,
didn’t you? I should have come out after work. How’d it go, or should I even
ask?”
    If
Celine had called and offered to stay, Charlene wouldn’t have spent time with
Larry. “No worries. Can you give me a ride?”
    “Not
a problem. I can rant about Steve on the way. I’m turning onto your road.”
    Charlene
disconnected and stared at her phone, amazed how each member of the Band of
Friends would do anything for each other. She’d never had friends like them.
    A
horn honked. Celine’s blonde hair, blue eyes, and sun-kissed skin out-shined
the new red Camaro.
    Charlene
slid into the car. “You were fast.”
    “I
was almost here when I called. Pamela told me you were off today.”
    Before
she fully shut the door, Celine sped off.
    “Why
are you driving like the car is a bat out of hell?”
    “Steve
and I broke up.”
    “I’m
sorry,” Charlene said, trying not to sound like a broken record.
    “He’s
never here. At a moment’s notice, he flies off to who knows where, leaving me
behind.” The car’s signal flashed, and she left the subdivision and turned
right onto a four-lane road. The speed increased. Celine whipped in and out of
traffic.
    Charlene
grasped the armrest, her head growing woozier with each jerk. Leaving the house
might not have been a good idea. Nope, Celine driving when she was ticked off
was the epitome of   bad ideas. She
twisted her lips, trying to hold back the bile wanting to rise. “You have to
slow down or your car’s beautiful black leather interior will soon have spots.”
    Celine
slowed down before turning onto a road with two lanes. “Sorry. He pisses me off.
I can’t think straight. I want to wring his neck.”
    “I
don’t understand why you get upset. He’s doing his job. It’s not like he has a
choice when he leaves.”
    The
glare Celine gave smacked Charlene in the face. She rested her head back on the
headrest and closed her eyes. “I didn’t mean to snap, but you two fight all