1 - Casey of Barstow

Casey Evans slung her school bag under the bench and dropped down on her back groaning miserably. What a fucking final exam!? All semester, what had felt like her easy-A class had a ram-you-up-the-A final? Bullshit! She rubbed under her breast and stared up at the pale fluorescent lights.

Almost everyone walking out of the exam hall got a pick-me-up by stealing at least one good look at Casey. The men out of lust. The girls out of jealousy, and sometimes lust. Darryl just judged her shoes. Casey was a vibrant redhead and, though they were currently closed, her soft hazel eyes were intoxicating. She was tall, for a girl, with a taut and flexible build made from a hardscrabble mix of jiu jitsu, touch football, and ballet.

Casey had just scribbled off the last of her freshman year final exams. Her mind was so spent, she felt physically exhausted. She didn’t want to get up for an earthquake. She was dressed in pajama pants and a faded army tank top, pricked upward by her braless nipples. She was kicking the toes of her dirt-stained tennis shoes in an indecipherable Morse code. It was a warm day in Barstow, but in the air conditioned halls of Barstow Community College, Casey wanted a warm suffocating hoodie.

“You look like you got your ass kicked.” Hale grabbed Casey’s knees and spun her into a sitting position.

“It was a knock down drag out brawl,” Casey said, elbowing Hale. “But I won. You?”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he said, fishing out his phone to check a text.

Casey turned her head and stuck her tongue out at Hale. Hale was a tall shaggy-haired boy in many of her classes. They were both army brats, no surprise that they ended up at Barstow. Hale’s family was to the winds; Casey stayed off campus at her dad’s. They had been friends since they’d congregated with some other classmates last October. They were part of a group of five, adding Darryl, Ereca, and Phil, that often met up after class to study together. Their study group had made the drudgery of Casey’s first year intro courses tolerable. Hale’s obvious jokes were one of the most important features to Casey.

He had one habit that never stopped though; his gaze moved up from her tits back to his phone. She sighed, not unhappy, but feeling a little bit objectified. She was too tired to enjoy being objectified. If he could just go tits, eyes, phone ... She wished she’d worn a bra because her nipples always pricked out this top.

For once, Hale’s attention was on his phone. Disinterest bothered Casey a hell of a lot more than over-interest.

She didn’t want to force his attention; she responded to his comment with snark and frustration: “Squeeze your mother’s lemons.”

He sighed, forced a smile. “Sorry, what?”

“You alright?” she asked, realizing something was way off.

“You gotta give me a ride somewhere,” he said, assertively. She smirked. This was their game. Give and take. She knew it ended with them in bed, but playing the game these last couple of months was giving her the time to really get to know him. She figured by the end of the month they’d be boyfriend/girlfriend, but for now it was still push and pull.

“A ride? Somewhere? Dealer’s choice, maybe?” she smirked. “I could drop you off in the middle of the Mojave and you could fight your way back on foot in an epic journey of grit and vengeance.”

Hale smirked.

“To the post office depot,” he said. “I uh ... There’s something big I need to pick up.”

“You don’t seem thrilled by it,” she said. “It’s not a coffin or something?” She instantly regretted the joke. She saw on his face it was too near the heart of the matter. She grabbed his wrist and he smiled wanly.

“Uh, no, not thrilled,” he said. “My, uh, I don’t know if there’s a word for it. My step-grandfather died a couple weeks ago.”

Casey upgraded a wrist tug into a slam hug. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Were you close?”

“I ... Closer than I knew. I only met him the summer Mom and Terry got married. Like two years ago. We stayed at his beach house in North Carolina. I spent six weeks dodging crazy in-laws helping him fix up his truck. Which is to say I handed him tools as he worked and stayed out of the clashes between Mom’s family and Terry’s. Everyone but Old Marcus was ... extra.”

“But he was chill? And you guys connected?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Hale said. “I should’ve been at the funeral.”

“Why weren’t you? Barstow’s very good with bereavements. Any of our professors would’ve given you a makeup exam later or even based your grade off previous work in some classes.”

“I know,” Hale said. “Mom was against it, I’m not really part of their family. And Old Marcus would’ve wanted me to excel in school. He didn’t want a big to-do.” Hale laughed. “The best part about your own funeral is it’s the only party where you don’t have to pretend you like the guests.”

“Heh, sounds like I’d have liked him,” Casey said.

“Well you got great taste,” Hale said, noticing the feel of Casey’s head on his shoulder. She rubbed his back. “And he liked me too.”

“What do you mean?” Casey asked.

“I’ve been trying to check in with mom and Terry and it’s just chaos. Terry and his brothers and sisters are ruthless, tearing Old Marcus’s estate apart. That beach house was pretty sweet, but it was one of his smaller properties. Well ... Uh, apparently I was in the will. Nothing big, just ... well they shipped my, uh, inheritance out to the depot. I could get a cab, but...”

“You need some emotional backup,” Casey inferred. “Well, I’m your chick! But, I gotta call dad and tell him where I’m taking the SUV. Are you ready to go now?”

“Yeah, well, after you call the colonel.”

“Right,” Casey got up. She fished out her phone and stretched as she dialed. “Go take a poop or something and I’ll meet you at lot C.”

“Thanks, Casey. You’re the best,” he said.

“I dunno about the best ... Top 5? Most likely.” she said. “Top 8 at the very least.”

Casey screwed on her signature camo army cap as they stepped out of the college building and crossed to the parking lot. Hale slipped on a pair of sunglasses and waited for her to remember she had to click twice to unlock the passenger door as well. She flashed her best grin.

“Buckle up,” she said, and backed out of the space, rolling into the aisle. “Do you know what you’re picking up?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said.

“Will it fit in the SUV?”

“No.”

“We can fold down the back bench and make more room,” she suggested.

“Still too small,” he said, smirking.

“How’re you getting it back to the dorms?” Casey said.

“It has an accelerator and a V-8,” Hale smirked.

“He gave you a car?”

“Yeah, the truck I helped Old Marcus put back together,” Hale said. “I guess because I took an interest in it. He loved his projects and I think he’ll be happy to have it in hands that appreciate it.”

“Cool,” Casey hit her blinker to turn off of campus. “I didn’t know you even had your license.”

“Dad made me get my learner’s the first day I could. I got my full permit, maybe a month delayed, but that was because I was staying with mom and she always fought dad over every little thing.” He sighed. “Would’ve killed for a car in Barstow though. Thank god you were always up for getting us off campus.”

“Yeah, plus Phil was always good to drive,” she said.

“I prefer you,” he said, smirking. She smiled back. “You buy a parking spot yet?”

“No,” Hale said. “If I don’t sign up for summer classes, I gotta move out of the dorms in what? Two weeks?”

“Nine days,” Casey said. “Let me call dad. He’ll probably let you keep the car at our place for a couple of weeks.”

“Maybe we should just hit the road,” he said. “You and me? Off on an adventure.”

“We can do a daytrip, probably,” She smirked. “I know the guys would--”

“You know, I’d rather it just be you and me.”

Casey smiled. She kinda agreed with that, but maybe not for their first outing. “Tap the brakes, Hale.”

“I’ll ease off the gas, some,” he said. “Best I can offer.”

“Well if that’s the best I can get...” She scoffed, but smiled. “Now, shut up.” She spoke up, tapped the button on the wheel, and enunciated: “Call Dad.”

Hale shut up as the phone rang over the SUV speakers.

“Hey Bear-cub,” Gavin answered. “You make it out to the post office, OK?”

“Still on the way,” Casey answered. “I’m in the car with Hale.”

“Hello Colonel,” Hale said, it was just polite to make the man know he could hear him.

“Who else? You driving Darryl or Ereca, too?”

“Darryl went straight back to the dorms,” Casey said. “Eri and Phil didn’t take Econ 102.”

“Right,” Gavin said, some of the smile leaving his voice. “What’s up?”

“So, the thing we’re picking up from the depot? It’s a truck.”

“Wait, truck? Like a pickup?”

“An F150. Yes, sir,” Hale answered.

“And due to his housing situation being in flux, I was hoping he could park it at our house,” Casey said. “Please, daddy? It’d just be until he can lock down his September housing plans.”

“September?” Hale mouthed.

“Big ask and then ease it back until it’s something everyone’s happy with,” Casey explained, also inaudibly.

Gavin sighed. “Listen, I’ll meet you out there. Let me see the truck before I commit to anything. I don’t want some junker leaking brake fluid on your mother’s flowerbeds.”

“You’re the best, Daddy!”

“I don’t know about the best, Bear-cub,” he said. “Top 5, though? Yeah, 100%.”

Casey kissed the air as her Dad hung up.

“It’s not gonna leak brake fluid all over mom’s black-thumb dead-as-doornail flowers, is it?” Casey asked, in an affected worried little girl voice.

Casey and Hale crossed the depot to where her father, in civvies, was shooting the shit with one of the mailmen. He raised a hand and waved. Casey jogged the last twenty yards to her dad. He grabbed her in a hug.

Gavin Evans was a huge man. Six foot four, square jaw, salt-and-pepper short hair, and muscles he knew how to use. Hale was on his best behavior.

“Hello, thanks for helping me out,” Hale said.

“Dean, run Hale to get his paperwork sorted out,” Gavin clapped the shoulder of the black mailman.

“Right on, this way, kid,” he gestured. Hale followed. There wasn’t much to do, just sign two receipts. One for a small box containing two sets of keys. The other was around back in a lot filled with mail trucks. Casey and Gavin were walking around the only green pickup truck in the yard.

“This is in great shape.”

“Yeah, Old Marcus really believed in taking care of his things,” Hale said.

“And it’s got a bit of nice features. Front bench, no bucket seats,” Gavin said, looking through the window and humming appreciatively. “Toss me the keys.”

“I’d rather open it myself,” Hale said, frowning as Casey tossed her father the keys to the SUV.

“You wanna grab a drink tonight, Dean?” Gavin said, leading the mailman away. He looked over his shoulder. “Get her back by 11.”

“Dad! I’m 19, I’ll be back when I damn well choose,” Casey said, turning a little red.

“Bear-cub, if he’s parking that big truck on my property, he’s not waking your mother up with the engine every night. Sandy’s in bed by 11. That’s the Evans family parking lot curfew,” Gavin said.

“Thanks again, Colonel Evans,” Hale said.

Gavin waved and caught up with Dean. Casey rushed over and elbowed Hale. “Green’s my color,” she said, looking over the truck.

“Yeah,” Hale said. He looked at the keys. No click, old school. He walked around to the passenger door, unlocked it and held it open for Casey.

“Oh, such a gentleman!” she said, wagging her tail and bumping him with her hip. “Is this because my dad might be watching?”

“No, I’ll treat you appropriately because you deserve it,” he said, dropping his voice to a close whisper. “I’ll just also wait until I know your dad’s out of earshot before I treat you inappropriately.”

Casey blushed a little as she climbed up into the cab. He shut the door and rushed around. When he was up, he looked over to see Casey digging through the glove box.

“Looking for treasure?”

“Oh! Sorry! I just--”

“It’s cool,” he said. “Anything inside there besides the registration?”

“Owner’s manual. Insurance cards” She pulled out a bunch of cassettes. “Music.”

Hale started the vehicle as Casey loaded Creedence into the tape deck. She sang along to the back end of Run Through The Jungle. She grinned. “Dad and Grandpa love this ancient stuff.”

“Uh huh,” Hale agreed, the music reminding him specifically about Old Marcus. He smirked. “You weren’t going to find the treasure somewhere obvious like the glove box.”

He rolled up to a stop sign and reached into the bench between him and Hale, feeling the catch and popping open a section of the seat. “He always liked these cloak and dagger James Bond things. His hands went back to ten and two and Casey pulled forward and opened the little compartment.

“If he got bucket seats he’d just have a console here,” Casey said.

“He said the bench was for babes,” Hale said, not knowing where he was going and so decided to take a circuitous route to Casey’s. He had three quarters of a tank. “When you’re done digging around, we should take advantage of the cuddle while driving options.”

Casey smirked. That sounded cute, but... “Take me out to eat instead.”

“Jenny’s?”

“Oh my god, that would be great!” she said.

He smirked. “Done.”

“Oh! Treasure!” Casey giggled. She pulled out a tall leather folder, a long felt-covered jewelry box, a leather wallet, and a yellow envelope.

“To Master Hale of The House Valmont!” she read the cover in a deeper silly herald’s voice. “That’s seriously what he wrote.”

“Old Marcus was a kook,” Hale agreed.

“I’ll leave that one for you, personally,” she said. “Can I open the others?”

“Sure,” he said.

She went straight for the jewelry box. It was long, like it should contain a necklace or a chain, and that’s what she expected an old man to give to a young one. But inside was a one large man’s ring, and, one, two ... eight empty recesses for slimmer rings. She picked up the ring and rolled it between her index finger and thumb. It was black with white Viking letters etched around the outside.

“A ring, a cool looking ring,” she said, after checking to see that Hale was watching the road more than her. Hale had his license but he hadn’t driven in over a year and never around Barstow. It was different seeing a town from the driver’s seat when you were used to seeing it from the sidewalks.

“You wanna try it on?”

“No, it’s definitely too big for my fingers,” she said. “Oh, you should’ve taken that right.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry,” he said, putting on his blinker for the next turn. Casey slipped the ring back into its recess where it looked like it intended to sit like a king over the thinner recesses. She snapped the jewelry box closed. She opened the wallet.

In truth, she first rolled the wallet over in her hands. It was a brand new black leather wallet with a brass oval in the corner. The initials HV were cut out of the brass in relief. She pulled it open. “There’s a copy of an insurance card for the truck and a credit card in here. It’s got your name on it.”

“Huh?” he said. “He took out a credit card in my name?”

“Visa,” she said.

“I’ll have to make a call about that,” Hale said.

“There’s probably info in here,” Casey continued her snooping by unwinding the leather tie of the folder. “Or in your letter.”

“Probably,” Hale said, taking the last turn before the restaurant.

“This is a lawyer’s letter. Blah blah blah ... Estate of Marcus Hofstedder...” She frowned. “I’m not being too nosey, am I?”

“I like your nose,” he said, smiling and signaling before the parking lot.

“Due to the contentious nature of his relations ... blah, blah ... The inheritance of each individual has been treated as a private matter. As such, the bequeathal to Hale Cristian Valmont includes the title of Mr Hofstedder’s personal vehicle, model Ford, blah, blah ... and the estate in Wilmington, North Carolina at--”

Casey squealed as Hale slammed the brakes and reached for the folder.

“Maybe finish getting all the way out of the street and park first?” Casey said, as the driver of a red Volkswagen honked at them.

They grabbed a booth at the back of the restaurant, ordered burritos and coke and put everything Casey had unearthed from the truck’s hidden compartment across the table. Casey slipped right next to Hale to look over his shoulder. First, he opened the letter.

“Hale,”

It opened directly. No dears or pleasantries. No “I hope this letter finds you well”.

“I’m dead. I’m surprised I lived long enough to meet you. And it wasn’t because I made healthy or safe decisions. I’ve done a lot of good in my life, but raising kids wasn’t one of them. You’re what I hope my boys would’ve ended up being.

“It’s not much, but I’m glad my Betty’s in good hands. It was gonna be enough, but then I slipped my ring into the box and into the compartment only you knew I had built. I have places like that everywhere. I know all of my vultures are looking to search up and down every house, rental property, and building I own looking for treasure, but the truth is, I liquidated and donated almost everything they’re looking for. The ring. Well, I couldn’t let that go just anywhere.

“You seemed to like the beach, if not the company, so I tucked the Wilmington House in there too. There’s a card in your name, and if you need to take a mortgage on the property to start a good life after college. Good on you. You’ll do good, but don’t go crazy. You’re gonna find you need more money soon enough, don’t blow it all on the first redhead, blonde, and brunette you get your hands on.

“It’s on you. You don’t need to tell anyone anything about what I was happy to give you. A man answers only to himself.

“Marcus.”

Hale frowned. Casey pulled his thumb away from the bottom of the letter. It was only covering the PS, but she read the last bit aloud.

“‘Don’t trust the raccoon.’” she read. “Good advice.”

The folder just had details about the truck, the house, and the credit. He could pick up the keys from Marcus’s lawyer’s office or email them to mail them out to wherever Hale was, at his pleasure.

“This leather wallet’s nicer than your shitty velcro one,” Casey said, pushing Hale and nudging him to transfer his cards. He did so and she opened the jewelry box.

“I’m not really a ring kinda guy,” Hale said.

She elbowed him.

“Well you did come out with me on this date,” he said. “I suppose I could do something you want me to.”

“Your idea of a date is going through a dead man’s things?”

“Treasure hunting and Mexican food,” he said, correcting her. “And making out afterwards.”

“Let’s call it two out of three,” she said, laughing. She held the ring and reached across Hale to his right hand.

“Are you doing that right?” he asked. He wiggled his left hand ring finger at her.

“It’s not a wedding ring,” she said, eyes rolling as she slipped it down his middle finger. He clenched his fist and frowned. He turned his hand over and revealed a small white ring with black runes on it. This one was definitely sized for a woman.

“Was that under the felt or something?” Casey frowned, spinning the ring box around and dragging her nail around the seam of the box. Hale hadn’t pulled it up and it had no give.

“I think it just magically appeared.”

“It was in the bottom of the secret compartment and you smuggled it in,” she said.

He frowned. He hadn’t reached into the secret compartment at all. And Casey had been very very thorough to be certain she hadn’t missed anything. But the explanation was better than ‘magic’ so Casey was believing it.

Hale smirked. He reached across Casey for her left hand.

“It’s not a wedding ring,” she reminded him, smirking as he changed tack and slipped it down her middle finger instead. She lifted up her hand and said: “It fits better than any ring I’ve ever worn.”

Hale’s was the only ring he had ever worn - excluding candy ones as a child. It fit so comfortably it was like it wasn’t even there.

They sat down and ate. Hale read the letter maybe thirty times. He went over the legal documents a half dozen times. He checked the credit card on his phone. Shit. He wasn’t rich, but he was comfortable in a way he hadn’t been in college.

“I’m going to take the truck, head to Wilmington,” he decided. He smirked and turned to Casey. “You’re coming.”

“Of course,” she said.

Straight yes? Hale frowned.

“Should we call Darryl or--”

“Just us,” Hale said, feeling better that she was pushing.

“Cool!” Casey said.

Hale frowned. “You done?”

She picked up her soda and slurped the bottom of the glass through the straw. “Yeah, you?”

“No, remember the date was treasure hunting, Mexican food,” he gestured to the table. “And sweet sweet lovemaking.”

“I remember it being making out,” Casey’s smile and rebuke lifted the weight from Hale’s confusion. “But, yeah, do we have to do it at the table?”

“No, we can move back to the truck,” he said, grinning.

Casey took a deep breath and said, quietly, “Fucking thank god for that, at least.”

Hale managed to drive the truck behind the back of a dumpster to give them some privacy. It wasn’t much, but they weren’t visible to every car that came down the road. A coyote was watching them from the side of the dumpster, but that was the best he could do. Besides, who gave a shit about some coyote when he had Casey straddling his right thigh and kissing the shit out of his jaw and throat?

She had even less of an answer for why she was suddenly so hyper affectionate, but if she didn’t give Hale some sweet sweet lovemaking, she’d feel clammy and dead inside. He turned off the engine and tossed the keys in the cupholder. Casey squealed as she fell flat on her back. He grabbed her left hand with his right. Their rings clinked as he stretched her down and across the bench.

Yeah, benches were for babes.

Hale hoped that the reason why Casey had changed her mind about this escalation was anything other than the money in his account. Yet, he had money and if that’s what she wanted, she was what he wanted.

He could fight personal worthlessness on his own time.

Casey’s body was warm and fit as she dragged her tank top up and off her shoulders. He had seen her nipples poke through dozens of tops in his time, but this was the first time he’d seen her bare breasts. The first time he had seen bare breasts since that summer at Old Marcus’s. His hands magnetted to Casey’s tits and she groaned and grabbed his hands around herself.

“Eager?” she chuckled. The redhead’s fair skin blushed from her nose to her navel, hiding the few freckles across her collarbone and tits. He pushed up and kissed that blushing skin with a vengeance. He pressed his teeth into her throat and she sighed, pressing his head against her.

She was shaking, from her ankles to her knees. She was spread around him, her pajama pants rubbing against the rough crotch of his jeans. Her breath hitched and she pulled him higher for a kiss.

God, this was happening! Right here! She had always imagined fooling around in Hale’s dorm room. Phil would’ve left and given them the room at a word, but until Casey was ready, she had used Phil as a safeguard.

Safety was gone.

This was so hot. She bit his lip and pulled and tugged at his shirt, ineffectually. She raised up a little and started tugging at his belt. “Oh fuck, wait, what do we need? Do you have anything?”

“Shit, no,” he realized.

“I, I think I have a condom, but it’s in my purse, which is ... Back home.”

He said the dumbest thing ever. Something he knew she’d push back on. “I’ll pull out.”

“Promise?!” she hissed.

He hooked her pinkie.

“OK,” she said, nodding, with the pinkie swear, but she had already been pushing down her bottoms as he spoke. He grabbed her pants and tugged them off, leaving her in her dirty sneakers and a nervous smile. His hands rubbed up and down her thighs as he pushed her back down.

“Get your own clothes off!” Casey said, pouting. She at least was excited to see him naked. She’d felt his erection through his pants. She was vibrating with eager nerves. She licked the edges of her teeth. She pulled at his shirt while he went for his jeans.

He had to pull her hands away to thrust his jeans and boxers to his knees. He yanked off the shirt and tossed it onto the back bench of the cab. She reached down and touched his dick. Were her fingers shaking or was he shuddering? Casey bit the inside of her cheek.

Hale kissed her fiercely again. He ran his hand up her thighs and rubbed her pussy. She was dripping. He felt so much better. Look at what he could do to get Casey going! He brought his scented fingers back to her face and pulled his lips off of hers.

She sucked her lips back over her teeth.

“You’re ready?” he asked, cock, rubbing up and down her slit. He cleared his throat. He smirked and declared: “You’re ready.”

She nodded aggressively. In a word, she’d gone from wanting a hell of a lot more lead up to all but begging for his dick. She stroked him as he lifted her ass off the seats. She closed her eyes as his cock slipped inside her.

Her voice filled the cab of the truck like music. She almost sounded like she was hyperventilating; did she even know how to breathe?

Hale started slow and Casey grabbed his upper arms for dear life. This wasn’t some dumbass fuck with some let’s-just-get-rid-of-our-virginities jerk like she’d know in high school. This was lovemaking.

She stared up into his dark eyes and her heart melted. She rolled and gasped with every plunge inside of her. Hale reached over her head and grabbed the door’s armrest. For leverage.

Casey wailed as the next thrust struck deep inside of her. She closed her eyes, she kept her mouth shut. Hale kissed her throat. She squealed breathlessly. They kept going, the sound of their bodies slapping drowned out her moans and squeaks.

For a moment.

Casey grunted and whined before giving in and letting her voice boom: “Hale! Fucking hell! Hale!”

“Yeah,” he panted, rolling his hips between her thighs. “Yeah, keep going.”

Casey arched her back, rocking her hips upward as Hale plunged downward. Her legs wrapped around his waist and locked behind his ass.

“Casey!” he moaned, happily in her ear. “You’re gonna cum when I cum.”

She nodded. She was gonna cum. She’d never cum during sex before. Lack of trying probably. There’d been a reason she had forced Hale to take things glacially slow until now.

Until now.

Hale couldn’t get enough of Casey’s body. He pinched her nipples, squeezed her thighs, death-gripped her ass. He couldn’t do much to change positions in the tight quarters of the truck bench, but he did as much as he could. She was red, darker than her hair, her eyes were glimmering up at him.

He had promised to pull out.

Three, four, five more dangerous thrusts.

He had promised he’d pull out! Did his word mean nothing to him?

It was a struggle to unlock Casey’s ankles from behind his ass, but it was in the nick of time that he yanked his cock free of her pussy. She yelped, the first rope splashed up her stomach and she pitched and rocked as her orgasm could finally reach her. She felt the fog part in her mind as she screamed his name. Hale’s cum sprayed, smeared, and slathered over Casey’s left breast. He hung onto the handle and breathed heavily over her.

“Oh my god,” he said.

She reached up and touched his cheek.

“That was awesome,” he said. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

He wouldn’t have played her game of give and take over that statement. He didn’t notice that she didn’t try.

“Uh...” Casey said. “You don’t have Kleenex or napkins, do you?”

Neither Hale nor Casey could keep the smiles off their faces. They arrived at Casey’s and parked the truck to the left of the driveway. They got out. The SUV was in the driveway. Excellent, their late night plans required it.

“Come on,” Casey said, using the sun visor mirror to make sure there were no wet spots on her tits or her crotch.

Hale nodded, getting out, leaving the truck unlocked until Casey elbowed him. He went back and locked the doors. He met her on the stairs as they went inside and kicked their sneakers off on the mat.

“That’s the truck then?” Sandra, Casey’s mother, came out to greet them. “I’m sure Casey already invited you upon learning about your grandfather, but you’re staying for dinner.”

“Of course,” Hale said, nixing their dinner plans. So long as they made it to the drive-in by sundown, he’d be happy. The colonel was on the back terrace, barbecuing. Sandra pushed Hale out to talk to him and led Casey to the kitchen.