“Yes.”
“I’m Cooper. Spoke to Turk on the phone earlier, said we had a couple visitors from outta town.” He sauntered over to them, his hand extended in anticipation of a handshake the entire time. Cooper was maybe six-three or six-four, and skinny as a rail. He had the pinched, beaky face of a rodent. The thing on his head wasn’t a hat, but a plastic dime-store Halloween mask, held in place by a band of elastic that cut into the flesh beneath his chin. From what David could tell, it was the Incredible Hulk.
David shook Cooper’s hand. The shake was loose and clammy. The guy reeked of marijuana.
Two others came out the passenger side of the truck. The man looked about thirty, tanned skin, dark hair, solid build. His forearms were intricately tattooed and the strap of a backpack hung from one shoulder. He wore a distrustful look that mirrored how David felt. The girl who was with him also looked about thirty, with a nearly nonexistent bosom beneath the drooping Kenny Chesney T-shirt she wore. She also had a straw cowboy hat perched back on her head and two long braids draped over her shoulders. Her face bore a striking resemblance to Pauline, so David assumed this was Bronwyn, her sister.
“Boy, you guys are in for a real treat,” Cooper said. Then he bent down to address Ellie, even though he was still a bit taller than eye level with the girl. David could see sprigs of dark, oily hair purling out of the Hulk’s eyeholes. “You like fireworks, sugar?”
“Not really,” she said.
Cooper blinked in surprise. “You kiddin’ me? What kid don’t like fireworks?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “My boy Tre there’s got a whole backpack full.”
“Is that such a good idea?” David said.
Cooper’s gaze shifted toward him. His eyes were bloodshot and about as droopy as Bronwyn’s oversized T-shirt.
“Turk mentioned there were . . . undesirables . . . still in the area,” David finished.
Cooper stood. Behind him, Tre and Bronwyn cut a circuitous path toward the front door that took them partway around the front yard. David felt like they were circling before closing in on him and Ellie, the way hyenas might.
“Undesirables?” Cooper said. He pronounced it as if he’d never heard the word before, or was at least unfamiliar with its meaning. “Undesirables . . .”
“Bad guys,” David clarified.
Cooper twisted his lips into a knot and looked skyward in a parody of contemplation. He even rubbed at his chin. David suddenly disliked him.
“No, no, I don’t think so,” said Cooper. “Nope. No one that I can think of around here goes by that name. ’Course, this is Turk’s neighborhood. He’d know better ’an me. I ain’t from this side of town.”
“Coop’s from the bad side,” Bronwyn chided, one leg up on the front step of the house. Her comment possessed the conspiratorial tone of an inside joke. “He’s trouble, mister. Steer clear.”
The guy with the backpack—Tre, David thought—flared his nostrils as he glanced at Bronwyn. He looked irritated. He had one hand on the doorknob, which he twisted apprehensively, but did not open the door. There was a joint tucked behind his left ear.
“Undesirables,” Cooper repeated. There was a musical quality to his voice. Then he laughed and said, “I’m just fuckin’ with you, mister. We’re cool.”
“Language, shit head,” Bronwyn scolded, and jerked her head in Ellie’s direction.
“My bad.” Cooper grinned toothily at Ellie. “I got me a bit of a potty mouth.”
“You smell awful, too,” Ellie said.
“Ellie,” David said.
Cooper just stared at Ellie. Then he crossed his eyes, lolled out his tongue, and made a clicking sound way back in his throat. A second later, he barked a single laugh—a high-pitched Pee-wee Herman honk—and said, “That’s funny. You’re funny, kid. Come on inside.” He took a step toward the front door.
“We were just leaving,” David said. He pushed Ellie toward the curb.
That goofy grin had yet to leave Cooper’s face. “Yeah? Where you headed?”
“Just back on the road. This was only a pit stop. We got a little turned around last night.”
Cooper frowned. It was as goofy an expression as his grin. And while David did not like the stern and distrustful look on Tre’s face, he liked the goofy, playful fa?ade on Cooper’s even less. At least Tre was expressing his true feelings, whether he realized it or not. Cooper was putting on a show. A very poor one.
“Seriously,” Cooper said. “Come on back inside.”
“No, thanks. Take care.” A hand against Ellie’s back to usher her forward, he began walking toward the street. Yet he hadn’t fully turned around, keeping Cooper and friends in the periphery of his vision.