Everyone laughed, a response that simultaneously mortified and grounded her.

One of the guys snickered, “Better keep lifting, buddy.”

Another said, “You’re really, really close, Jack, on the brink of passing for a man.”

The brunt of the jokes released the weights to the floor on either side of him. He drew up his T-shirt and mopped his face. “I could do a decent Linnie impression.” He sat up, widened his eyes, and asked in a soft lilt, “Mind if I crash here for a week?”

“Or a year?” another asked in a falsetto.

When the laughter died, Jack finished, “And smoke all your weed?” His smile slipped. He slumped on the bench. “Fucking Caleb.”

The others nodded. One of them muttered, “First Mark, then Tatum, then Fluffster—”

Jack glanced at Maggie and, with a weary wave, explained, “A mutt. Absolutely infested with fleas.”

“Caleb’s a sucker.”

“He kind of reminds me of Santa Claus,” a scrawny guy said.

“Well, I’m sick of it. He can get his own place and run it as a free boardinghouse.” Jack grunted. “Let him feed them.”

“And weed them.”

The laughter started up again, but Jack shook his head and swatted the air to his left. “Linnie’s in there.” He smiled sourly. “Do us a favor. Take her with you.”

Maggie secured her seat belt with a trembling hand, started Sam’s pickup, and pulled away from the curb. She sighed. Even her breath shook. She shot her passenger a sidelong glare.

Linnie slouched against the door. Her smile was sweet. If she was drunk and high, she hid it well. “Thanks for getting me.”

Maggie barely nodded. She was pissed.

Linnie swept a knuckle against the fog blooming on the window. In a musing way, she murmured, “Don’t know why I went to Jimmy’s in the first place. He’s an idiot, and so are his friends. Everyone got plastered, then someone broke a window. I took off. Kind of thought I’d be hanging out at Caleb’s for the night. I’m glad I didn’t have to do that. Caleb’s cool, but…” She drew a circle on the window. “I’ve asked him for favors before. I hated to ask him for another.”

Maggie flicked on the defroster. Warmth sprang into her eyes and grazed her forehead. She adjusted the air to a cooler temperature. She was hot enough.

Linnie dragged herself upright, raised a limp hand. “Don’t head down Redman. Kyle lives a bit farther off the Ridge.” The hand fell to her lap. “His car was impounded.” Her mouth curled. “Hopefully, Kyle wasn’t, too.”

Maggie shook her head.

“What?”

She managed a tight shrug.

Linnie turned to gaze out the passenger window. She folded her hands against her stomach.