FLOWERS and CAGES Read Online Free

seemed to be some kind of disaster. Six years ago, Colleen had her bags packed when her mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer. Two packs of Camels a day finally caught up with her.
    Unpacking her bags, Colleen did what anyone would have done—she stayed. The beauty parlor needed a manager, and her mother needed a caretaker. Months of radiation and chemotherapy followed by a long recovery of her general health and the cancer was gone. Thank God. But so was Colleen's money. Bills had to be paid.
    More determined than ever, Colleen started from scratch. She worked with single-minded devotion. Long hours putting up with Dole and crap equipment. Doing jobs on the side. It had finally paid off. Colleen could see a future away from Midas. Where didn't matter as long as it was bigger and better. In other words, any place but here.
    Colleen rolled out long enough to turn up the volume on the old radio. For a second, she closed her eyes, letting the song and its pounding rhythm soothe her mind. Soon, she promised herself. Closing her eyes, she pictured her favorite fantasy. Behind the wheel of her restored fifty-five T-Bird, the wind blowing through her dark red hair. Straight ahead was an old sign. Faded, bent on the tips and riddled with bullet holes, it was the most beautiful sight on Earth.
    Two words that made her heart beat with hope. Leaving Midas.
    SMOKE ROLLED FROM under the hood of Dalton's Porsche. Then the car coughed. Sputtered. Shit . The car was practically brand new. If it couldn't survive a little six-hundred-mile road trip, what good was it? Naturally, it had to happen as he pulled into Midas. The sense of doom and gloom that began its descent over him about an hour ago grew heavier.
    Was this a sign? A portent of things to come? There was no law that said Dalton had to stay. He could call a tow truck. Phoenix was about fifty miles east. Civilization beckoned.
    As his car limped along, Dalton glanced to his right. Dole's Auto Repair . Now that was a sign.
    Unless things had changed, it was the town's one garage and not equipped to deal with a high-performance sports car. However, it was conveniently located—right in front of him, to be exact. At this point, he didn't have an option. Dalton had come all this way to see his sister—and exorcise of a few old ghosts. If he had to do it in a borrowed car, so be it.
    Dalton stopped beside the one gas pump. If he were lucky, the problem was a dry radiator. But in his experience, Midas and luck did not go hand in hand. Then again, he wasn't the same man he once was. Perhaps Midas had changed, too.
    As soon as the thought popped into his head, Dalton broke out laughing. Who was he kidding? Deep down he was the same. A little more polished but there were enough rough edges left that the old Dalton would have easily recognized the new one.
    And Midas? The town looked exactly the same. Scratch that. It looked like an older, dirtier, more rundown version of the old, dirty, rundown town from seven years ago. Back then, the place needed a makeover. Now, it needed a bulldozer. Time changed everything. Not always for the better.
    The longer Dalton waited, it became apparent nobody was coming to find out if he needed help. He could sit in his car until hell froze over—or in this case, Midas—or he could move his ass and search it out on his own.
    There was no preparing himself for the blast of inferno-like heat. Great, another hell reference. Dalton needed to change his attitude. He wasn't here by force. It had been his decision. Yes, it was hot. He had sweated through worse. The last time being a July concert in Texas. By the end, there was a pool of sweat under his chair the size of a small lake—though hot and much saltier. If he could survive that, he could manage to walk twenty feet from his air-conditioned car to the open door of the garage.
    Admittedly, neither Los Angeles nor Texas carried the added memory of having his face shoved in the scorching dirt while two