She stuck out her hand. “My name’s Semelee. What’s yours?” Her dark eyes were alive with interest as she looked at him.

“Jack,” he said as he shook her hand. Her skin was soft, like a baby’s. He nodded his head toward Luke and Corley. “You connected to them?” He knew the answer but wanted to see how she’d respond.

“They’re kin. You think they tried to run you down?”

“I don’t know who was driving, but I know it was that truck.”

Her expression darkened. “Oh, it was, was it?” She turned and glared at her “kin.”

“Get in the truck.”

Luke spread his hands. “But Semelee…”

“In the truck,” she said through her teeth. “Now!”

The two of them moved off like whipped dogs. If nothing else, Jack had learned who ruled the roost.

She was all smiles when she turned back to him. A nice smile. The first he’d seen. It lit up her face and made her almost pretty.

“I’m sure it was just an accident. Those boys drive a little crazy sometimes. Why don’t I buy you a drink and we can talk it over. Maybe—”

“What were you doing in my father’s room?”

“Your father?” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t think I—”

“His hospital room. You were in it yesterday, wearing a wig and dressed like a nurse.”

She snapped her fingers. “I knew I seen you before.”

Yeah, right. She’d known him the instant she saw him.

“What were you doing there?”

“Oh, that. I been thinkin’ bout becomin’ a nurse, so I dressed up like one and went to the hospital to see what it was like. It didn’t work out. Made me feel kinda sickish. I guess nursin’ ain’t for me.”

“I guess it ain’t.”

Good story. It fit nicely with what he’d seen, but Jack wasn’t buying a word.

She smiled again. “Now, about that drink…?”

He hesitated. A little face time with her and he might get a handle on what was going on between his father and Semelee and her “kin.” But he had Anya back in the car and he hadn’t seen his father yet today. But maybe he could catch her later.

“Have to take a rain check,” he told her. “Got to get to the hospital.”

“Oh, yeah. Your daddy. Is he bad sick?”

“He’s been better.”

Another battered pickup, this one blue, pulled up beside the first. For a moment he thought it was filled with migrant workers, but then Jack saw their misshapen heads and bodies. If they were any sort of workers, they looked like they might be extras for Wes Craven if he was doing a new sequel to The Hills Have Eyes. He recognized the marble-cheeked guy from the Publix. All the funny-looking street people he’d seen begging on his trip through town were gathered in these two trucks.