Last Safe Place, The by Ninie Hammon Page A

a teardrop tattooed on his right cheek and a silver stud in his tongue. And he held a copy of The Bride of the Beast in his hand, glancing down at the picture on the back cover as he approached.
    Gabriella was surprised she’d been recognized with her black hair in a neat bun, her pointed bangs pulled back under a headband and her scar hidden beneath a thick layer of makeup. She sighed. In a few minutes, this fan would likely be very sorry he’d spotted her. The poor boy had no idea what getting that book autographed was about to cost him.
    “This is you—right?” the young man asked.
    “And who you think you be, fool?” Theo said before she could answer. He glared at the stranger through the steam rising out of his Starbucks cup.
    Theo wasn’t a big man—five-eight maybe, with rounded shoulders and a paunch—but he had an intimidating presence Gabriella could only acknowledge, but not define or explain. Maybe it was all those years on stage playing to hostile crowds or fielding the jabs of hecklers. His thick mat ofhair—slicked back in a mass of waves that resolved into curls at the back of his head—was the dark gray of a pipe wrench, his eyebrows and beard stubble as silver as a new quarter, and the fire in his yellowed, chocolate drop eyes could burn a hole through boot leather.
    “You think you Jay Z or Snoop Dogg? 50 Cent, maybe? Why don’t you ask one of yo pimp homies what it mean in the iron house to walk ’round with yo pants on the ground like that.”
    The young man looked remarkably unruffled by Theo’s verbal assault.
    Theo turned to Ty. “I ever catch you dressed like that, Tyrone, I rip yo arm off and beat you to death with the bloody stump.” He turned back to the young man. “Pull you pants up, boy!” He reached out and plucked the ball cap off the stranger’s head. “And take off yo hat when you talking to a lady.”
    Gabriella stepped in quickly before Theo had a chance to launch into his tattoo speech or his body-piercing speech.
    “Yes, that’s me,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
    The young man’s smile went totally flatline. He reached into the hip pocket of his baggy pants and pulled out a sealed envelope.
    “You can take this,” he said and handed Gabriella the envelope. “Gabriella Carmichael, aka Rebecca Nightshade, you’ve been served.”
    “What? What is this?”
    “What’s it look like—it’s a summons.” The young man turned to Theo. “You can keep the cap, Pops. Have a nice day.” He turned and strutted out of the restaurant. Theo threw the cap at him, but missed.
    Gabriella stared unbelieving at the envelope in her hand.
    “How that process server get in here?” Theo boomed. “You got to go through security, got to have a boarding pass. How …?” He noticed that Gabriella hadn’t moved. “Well, don’t just sit there sucking on a prune pit—open that thing up and let’s see what’s in it.”
    She slid her finger under the flap and pulled out the single piece of paper inside.
    Words leapt off the page and smacked her hard in the face.
    Slander.
    … made false and defamatory statements to the press ...
    … damaged the reputation and good name of …
    Yesheb Al Tobbanoft!
    She couldn’t breathe. Theo snatched the paper out of her hand and scanned down it.
    “He claiming you slandered him?” he said.
    “What does slander mean?” Ty asked, looking from his mother to Theo and back to her.
    Gabriella’s head was spinning. Why would he …?
    “This summons gone put a hitch in your git-along,” Theo said and tossed the paper down on the table in front of him. “Says here you got to appear in court at 9 a.m. on June 26—here in Pittsburgh.”
    That was why! June 26 was the date of the next full moon.
    The waitress materialized at Gabriella’s elbow. She was absurdly basketball-player tall, six-feet-three and skinny as a shoe lace. The ingratiating, adoring look on her face told Gabriella the girl had recognized her, too.
    “Excuse