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deserved
some peace.

 
     
     
    Chapter Five
    I stepped into the breezy
nighttime air, rubbing my sleeve over my face in a last ditch effort to get rid
of any smudges. An exercise in futility if there ever was one.
    Across the parking lot, Sierra turned on
her heel and charged toward me. Certainly the little pistol wasn’t losing her
courage. She had more guts than a drunken womanizer.
    “I left my fondue pot on,” she muttered.
“Last time I did that, it caught my tablecloth on fire.”
    Before I could argue, she whipped past.
The door to the building slammed shut. For a minute I wondered if this was all
an elaborate scheme of Sierra’s so that I would be the one abducted.
    I turned away, but, just then, the man
glanced over and waved. I didn’t see any webbed fingers or any extra eyeballs.
It wouldn’t kill me to say hello. The man would be living across the hall from
me, and I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. I stepped toward him,
soaking my new neighbor in.
    He was quite a bit taller than my 5’4”
frame. Dark hair that needed a trim, brushed his ears and neck. His profile was
strong, but pleasant. Not bad looking for someone from another planet.
    He rocked back on his heels. “Hey.”
    Intelligent blue eyes framed by long
lashes greeted me as I got closer. The man had the lean build of a runner and
an easy smile that made him seem approachable. Plus, he was wearing a Redskins
sweatshirt. He couldn’t be that bad.
    I fingered my frizzy hair, remembering
that a flirty smile from my sooty face would look like I was the center ring at
a three ring freak show.
    I settled for, “You must be the new
guy.”
    “That’s me.”
    His eyes grazed my appearance. I forced
my shoulders back, determined not to feel inferior for not looking picture
perfect. That had to be the understatement of the year, I thought with a mental
snort. I didn’t even look clean.
    “You must be . . .” he
said.
    “Your neighbor across the hall. Gabby
St. Claire.”
    “Riley Thomas.” He looked up into a
nearby tree. “I was in my apartment trying to sleep when I heard something
squawking outside. I decided to check it out and it turns out there’s a parrot
up in that tree.”
    “A parrot?” A squawk cut into the
moment. I looked up at the Bradford Pear tree beside me and saw a flash of red
and yellow. “How in the world . . . ?”
    “I’m guessing he’s someone’s pet that,
er, flew the coop.”
    Sierra must have deemed it safe to come
out. The front door slammed and I saw her bobbing toward us in her typical
bouncy fashion. Introductions went around and, as we filled her in on the bird,
her eyes zeroed in on the creature.
    “I do believe that would be a parrot in
a pear tree,” she said. “Seen five golden rings lying around anywhere?”
    I groaned inwardly, feeling some of the
tension leave my shoulders. I had a feeling Riley and Sierra would get along
just fine if puns amused them both this much.
    Sierra stared up into the leafy
branches. I knew the way her mind worked. She was trying to figure out how to
rescue the bird.
    “I’m going to go get my birdcage,”
Sierra suddenly said, breaking out of her trance. She pushed her glasses up on
her nose like Clark Kent
about to transform into Superman. “I’ll be right back.”
    She disappeared into the apartment and
awkward silence had me squirming. What do you say to a stranger while standing
in a parking lot in the middle of the night? My brain felt as fried as my hair,
and social graces weren’t exactly my thing. Luckily, my new neighbor must have
taken some Miss Manners classes at some point in life.
    “You must have been to a campfire
tonight,” he started.
    Maybe manners weren’t his thing after
all.
    “It depends on how you define
‘campfire.’” Did a 6,000 square foot house count?
    Thankfully, Sierra made like Houdini and
magically reappeared, cage in hand. I could only imagine what she’d used the
barred container for in the past.