...

"So, Janie dear, are you looking forward to the Christmas party?"

Oh yes, much like in the way people look forward to root canals. What she said aloud was, "Sure. Who else is going to be there?"

"Oh, well, the Smiths—and they have two daughters about your age, Jess and Dora—the Blackwells, and I think the Montgomerys."

Informative, but unhelpful. What Jondy really wanted to know was if there would be anyone there who, like her, was not all he seemed to be, and if so, whether or not he was a bad guy. But that's not the sort of thing that polite society allows one to come right out and ask.

"The Smiths will be getting here a little early," Mary continued, "and maybe you can have a nice girl chat with Jess and Dora."

A nice girl chat? As if.

...

Three hours later, she found herself all but strapped to a chair as two blonde, blue-eyed girls hovered over her, arguing companionably about whether she was a Spring or a Summer. The twins had already forced her out of her favorite sweatshirt (stolen from Syl) and into a soft blue turtlenecked sweater. They had tried to get her into a skirt as well, but there she drew the line. "If the jeans go, I go." The final straw, though, was the curlers, bright pink jobs obtruding from all over her head. She was pretty sure this was the Hell of Good Intentions people kept talking about. Luckily, she had had her tattoo removed in Portland about a week ago. Even if they saw any traces of her barcode, they probably assumed it was the result of some childhood disease that she didn't want to talk about. Which, in a way, it was.

Now Jess and Dora were trying to slather makeup on her. "Close your eyes," one of them—Jess?—commanded, wielding a small brush with lilac-gray eyeshadow smeared on it while the other rummaged through her makeup kit for eyeliner.

Jondy obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Still, it was either this or socializing with people whose favorite topics of conversation revolved around barnyard animals. "You know," she said, "I prefer doing my own eye makeup, because people tend to—yeow!" The eyeliner pencil had strayed into her eye. "Poke me in the eye," she finished.

"Sorry," Dora said sheepishly.

Jondy tried to figure out some way to work the current situation to her advantage. What did these girls know that she didn't? More to the point, what did she need to know that they already knew? She decided to probe the waters.

"So, um, how long has Adam been working for Buddy?"

She knew what that question would sound like, but she didn't care. She needed to know how well Logan had covered his tracks.

The two girls giggled, clearly thinking that Jondy had a crush on Adam. "Well, now," said Jess with mock thoughtfulness, "I don't know, since we hardly ever see Buddy and Mary 'less it's a holiday or somethin'. But I think he's been here about three years."

More likely, Buddy had simply mentioned that Adam had been there three years, and the power of suggestion had done the rest. Especially since less than a year ago Zack had been with Jondy in Seattle. But whatever. As long as they believed it was three years, everything jived and it was all good.

Half an hour later, Jess and Dora finished their mayhem. "Ta-da!" Jess sang, spinning her around to face the mirror.

Jondy had to admit, she didn't look half as bad with the pink cylindrical monsters out. Honey blonde curls bobbled gently around her face. And despite Dora's unsteady hand, the smoky eyeliner did wonders to bring out her eyes. She looked good. "Wow. Thanks."

"You're welcome," the girls chorused, grinning.

"All right, so let's go join the party."

The trio made their way down the stairs, the twins talking and giggling excitedly while Jondy half-listened. Most of her attention was focused on scoping out the room, looking for anything or anyone that didn't fit. Besides her.

She saw Mary, who smiled and waved. Next to her was Buddy, talking to someone who could have been his taller, slightly thinner twin, along with a dark-haired woman who must have been his wife. Across the room were the extremely Nordic Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the twins' parents, whom Jondy had met earlier. Chatting with them was a couple who looked exactly like the one in that painting with the farmer holding the pitchfork and his austere wife beside him. Clustered near the table piled with food were three young men she didn't recognize, probably farmhands. She didn't see Adam anywhere.

"C'mon, I'll introduce you to everybody," Jess said, tugging Jondy's arm towards the food-laden table.

"We'll introduce you to everybody," Dora corrected demurely. Jess stuck her tongue out at her.

"Whatever. Hey guys!" Jess yelled, waving at the three guys. One waved back, all of them surrendering their defensive positions around the food and ambling towards them.

"Hey Jess," said the one who'd waved. "How's it goin'?"

"It's goin' all right," she said, smiling flirtatiously at the boy. "This here's Janie. She's workin' for the Johnsons."

"Doin' what?" another boy asked. "Cookin' and cleanin'?"

Jondy raised her eyebrows. Feminist minds these were not. "Actually, I work on the farm. I take care of the horses."

"I heard you were from the city," the third boy chimed in, looking rather overexcited about the fact. Jondy suspected he had heard stories about how easy city girls were. Well, he could think whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't try anything.

"I've lived all over the country. But yes, the last place I lived was the city."

She didn't want to say which city, in case one or more of these farmboys turned out to be an agent for one of the many people hunting her. Or in case one of the said agents happened to pick up her trail here and decided to question them.

"Janie," Dora broke in brusquely, "this here is Hank," she nodded to the boy who had waved to Jess, "Will," she motioned to the forward thinker, "and Jimmy," she pointed to the one who had wanted to know if she was from the city. All three smelled faintly of beer.

Soon Jess had wandered away with Hank, and Dora with Will. That left Jondy sitting with Jimmy Ain't-You-From-The-City. "So," she asked brightly, "have you lived your whole life in Gainesville?"

"Naw, I'm from Waterville." Waterville was approximately two miles outside of Gainesville. The only thing that differentiated them was that Waterville had a sign saying "Welcome to Waterville." You can guess what Gainesville's sign said.

Throughout their conversation, Jimmy kept touching her leg. She tried to gracefully move away, but he didn't get the hint. Finally, she stood up and said, "Look, don't touch my leg, okay?"

He stood up too, albeit unsteadily. "How about here then?" he said, smirking, as his hand moved to grope her ass.

Jondy gritted her teeth. "If you don't move your hand—and I mean right now—you're going to see how well city girls can kick ass. Got it?"

"I'd like to see that," Jimmy slurred, still leering.

"I'm sure you would," Jondy muttered. She took a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, then drove the heel of her hand into Jimmy's solar plexus.

He yelped and doubled over. "You bitch!" he gasped, the air driven out of his lungs.

"Yeah," Jondy agreed. "I get that a lot."

She looked up as Dora rushed over, dragging Will by the hand. "Jimmy, are you okay?"

"I think he had too much to drink," Jondy volunteered helpfully.

Dora turned to her companion. "Will, could you and Hank take Jimmy home?"

Will nodded. "Sure thing, Dora. Be back in a jiffy." As he called for Hank to come over, Dora casually leaned over to Jondy and said under her breath, "He tried something, didn't he?"

Jondy looked at her, surprised, as Will and Hank dragged Jimmy out. She had assumed that Dora was merely a quieter version of her sister, a mindless flirt. Now she was beginning to see that she might have been mistaken. "Yeah, he did," she answered at last.

Dora nodded. "Good for you."

Mary approached them, looking worried. "Is that boy okay?"

"He's fine," Jondy said quickly. "Just a little too much to drink is all."

Mary looked relieved. "Oh, good. I was worried it was my cookin'."

...