Twilight, who was ten, frowned at him. “I’d vote for hustling cards or pool sharking. That way nobody can prove you broke the law.”
“Twilight wins,” her twin sister Moonlight said, and high-fived her. The two girls had big blue eyes and thick dirty-blonde hair plaited into French braids, which gave them a deceptively sweet and innocent appearance.
“Nah, it would take too long that way.” Lennon shook his head vigorously.
“Gaaahh! All of you! Cease and desist! We do not break the law!” Clover raked them all with a severe look.
“As far as you know.” Autumn flashed a sweet smile that was all innocence.
Lennon nodded, and winked at her. “Right. We don’t. Never.”
The twins bobbed their heads in agreement.
Damn it, she’d worried about this when she went off to college. Their parents were total counter-culture hippies, and it was fine if they passed down their liberal views to the kids, but did they have to also pass on their rather loose interpretation of the law?
She’d really debated what to do when she’d been offered the full scholarship. Should she leave, get her degree, and show the kids the value of a good education? Or should she stay home and make sure that her siblings didn’t grow up any more feral, and try to convince her parents to settle down in one place and give them a normal upbringing?
Going to college had seemed like the best idea at the time. Maybe she’d made a mistake.
Well, she was back now, and she was going to see that they stayed on the straight and narrow if it killed her. Or, what was more likely, returned to the straight and narrow. She’d been caring for them for several weeks now since their parents had gone on the lam, and she was growing more and more concerned about them.
That was why she was determined to get a job, watch them like a hawk and give them an actual role model for the first time in their lives. She would do all of that just as soon as she went and pounded Sam McCoy flat. Then she’d start behaving like an upright citizen.
“You know, another way to earn money is to do chores.” Imogen was standing in the doorway. She had sharp hearing for a human. “I’ve got a grove full of Valencias that need picking. Who wants to pick oranges? Five bucks an hour.” In addition to running the boarding house, Imogen had a small farm and orange groves on the property.
“You don’t have to pay us,” Lennon said. “You’re letting us stay here.”
“Imogen, no,” Clover protested. “I can’t have you give them money. You’re already helping us out, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to get a job.”
“Now, now, I’m not doing you any favors. I really need the help. I don’t have many guests right now, so business is slow. My niece Marigold and her husband usually help me out, but they’re on vacation for the next month.”
“Yep, it’s true,” Rick said, nodding. “I’d do it myself, but my back ain’t what it used to be. All that bending over.” He spoke with a thick Georgia drawl. He was about Imogen’s age, a wolf shifter widower in his eighties who’d moved in to the boarding house recently to do odd jobs. He wore his white hair slicked back in a pompadour, with Elvis-style sideburns; Clover imagined he’d been quite the hellraiser in his day. She suspected that there was something going on between him and Imogen. They kept looking at each other and simpering.
“I sell those oranges to the McCoy family to make marmalade,” Imogen said. “You remember the McCoys? They’ve really expanded their business. Gone nationwide.”
“Oh, yes, I remember them quite well.” She tried to hide the venom dripping from her words, but she saw Autumn look at her with sudden interest.
“The McCoys are bears, right?” Autumn asked Imogen. “I think I’ve heard of them. I had their jam once.”
“Yes indeed, one of the oldest, finest bear families in the state.” Imogen nodded proudly; people in Blue Moon Junction stuck together, even if they were different species, and when someone did well, they all took pride in it.
“Are any of the McCoy men good-looking?” Autumn asked Imogen. Clover glowered at her, and Autumn flashed her a smirk. Was Autumn literally psychic? Because that would be horrible. Autumn would definitely use her powers for evil.
“Oh, goodness, they’re all terribly handsome.” Imogen tittered and patted her hair. “If I were a younger woman…” She glanced at Rick and then cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, I think we were all talking about picking oranges. I haven’t been able to get enough workers this season, and I wouldn’t dream of having these youngsters work for me without pay.” Yep, definitely something going on between Imogen and Rick. An eighty-something widow in a small backwater town was getting more action than Clover. What a surprise.