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dickhead?”
    Mitch winced. “Love and hate can be two sides of the same coin.”
    “Or sometimes hate is just hate. Like that guy who took Lurleen away. I can tell you that I sincerely hate him. There’s no love on the other side of that coin.”
    “So where is she?”
    Rudy shrugged. “Don’t know. I wish she’d come back, though. Now that Ally’s told me all about women’s orgasms and such, I can work with Lurleen on them multis.”
    “Maybe I could help you find Lurleen.” It might cost him some Internet long distance, but at least he might be able to get Rudy focused on a different woman. “What’s her last name?”
    “Engledorfer.”
    “That should make it a lot easier.”
    “If you could really find Lurleen for me, that would be great, ‘specially if you have dibs on Ally.”
    “Well, she doesn’t exactly know my intentions.” Now there was a true statement.
    “You mean she doesn’t know you’re crazy about her? Don’t you think you oughta tell her?”
    “Not yet. The timing needs to be right. So I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t say anything to her about our conversation.”
    Rudy nodded. “If you’re sure. Personally, I think you should say somethin’.”
    “I will. When the time’s right.”
    Rudy leaned toward him and lowered his voice. “But let’s make us a deal. If you tell her, and she doesn’t want to have nothin’ to do with you, and you find Lurleen, but she doesn’t want to have nothin’ to do with me,
then
can I go for Ally?”
    Mitch figured with all those contingencies he was safe. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess that would be okay.”
----

Chapter Four

    A lly couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an excellent buzz going. Dirty dancing on the bar and flirting with a rough-and-ready guy like Rudy were the kinds of thing she’d always wanted to try, but as Madeline Jarrett’s granddaughter she hadn’t dared. Grammy would have been so embarrassed by that kind of behavior.
    Grammy’s embarrassment wasn’t a factor anymore, though, and Ally had enjoyed the hell out of busting loose. To think she owed it all to Mitchell. When he’d appeared, reminding her of all the restrictions she’d had back in L.A., something had snapped inside. Yes, it had taken three Irish coffees to get up her nerve, but she’d finally found her inner wild girl.
    As she washed her hands and looked at herself in the dingy mirror over the bathroom sink, she decided to give that wild girl a rest. Her hair was tangled and her face flushed and puffy. Besides, Mitchell was liable to gain some advantage over her if she didn’t stay sharp.
    A little food and she’d be fine. From what Rudy had told her, the Top Hat was also Porcupine’s best restaurant. Actually it was Porcupine’s only restaurant, but at least she was in the right place. She wasn’t up to plowing through snowdrifts looking for a bite to eat.
    Judging from the noise filtering through the bathroom door, the Top Hat was swinging into high gear. Apparently Porcupinians knew how to party. When she stepped into the hall, whistles and rhythmic clapping nearly drowned out the jukebox. And through it all, she could hear the staccato beat of tap shoes.
    At the entrance to the hallway she paused and glanced at the table where Mitchell and Rudy were sitting. Betsy was ensconced at the table with them. While “Clyde tap-danced on the bar to “Luck Be a Lady Tonight,” Betsy used both hands to beat a rhythm on the table while she wiggled in time to the music. Rudy was a half-beat off with his clapping, but to compensate he’d add an eardrum-piercing whistle every so often.
    Mitchell wasn’t clapping or whistling. He looked over and spotted her, then turned away, as if he didn’t want her to know he’d been keeping watch. Instead he acted as if Clyde’s performance and the bowl of un-shelled peanuts that had appeared on the table required all his attention. He didn’t go so far as to clap, though.
    Seeing the peanuts