“Yeah, she is. Poor thing.”
Monica rested her hands on the steering wheel. “I heard he won a gold medal for something in the Olympics.”
“Really?”
“I haven’t heard that.”
Monica nodded. “He’s from some fancy family back east, but his wife is from Bridger City. That’s why they moved to California.”
“Well, he certainly acts like a complete snob,” Val said. “What did he do in the Olympics? Is being an asshole an Olympic sport?”
Monica laughed. “I have no idea. Skiing maybe? They ski a lot.”
“I think they’re part owners of the ski resort,” Robin said. “Either that or they have season passes. They’re up there all the time.”
Robin and Mark were the only two regular skiers in their group of friends. Though they only lived ten minutes from Sierra Slopes, Val had never enjoyed the sport, and Monica had only skied a couple of times a year when Gil wanted to go. She probably hadn’t been at all since he died.
“I better go check in before it closes,” Val said. “Leave at nine tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Robin and Monica exchanged a look. “We can make that work.”
Val walked into Misfit and was surprised to see Savannah Anderson, the wife of the Americano Asshole—should they switch it to Olympic Asshole? Maybe. She’d have to think about it.
Savannah was sitting in the corner of the coffee shop nearest the counter, reading a book and drinking a coffee. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was looking down studiously at her book.
Val glanced at her but then headed toward the counter. Rich people’s marriage problems were not her concern even though she wanted to shout “Run away!” very loudly.
Honey leaned on the counter, her voluminous bosom pressed against the varnished wood covered with snowboarding and watersports stickers. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey, sweetie.” Val smiled. She adored Honey. The woman was a killer baker and one of the coolest people in Glimmer Lake. Her thick brown hair was always highlighted with a different color, and intricate tattoos of flowers and vines decorated her light brown skin. Her nose was pierced, and while Val was tempted to get something similar, she figured her sons would give her too much shit for it.
But I am the cool mom…
“You been up to trouble,” Honey said. “I can tell by the look on your face. You seeing ghosts?”
Ghosts? Val stopped short. “What?”
Honey often commented on the spooky atmosphere in Glimmer Lake. After all, the town was built on the shores of a lake that swallowed an entire town.
“Ghosts?” Honey asked again. “People from a past life? Exes and formers?”
“Oh.” She slid through the pass. “Kind of. I was down in Bridger, asking around about Josh. They police still can’t find him.”
“That shit’s strange.”
“I know. He’s not the most responsible, but it’s not like him to just disappear. He’d tell the boys if he was going on a trip or something. So I have no idea.”
“You worried?”
Val took a deep breath. “Starting to be, yeah.”
There were so few people in the café Val nearly jumped when Savannah Anderson came up to the counter behind her, her bag slung over her shoulder.
“Oh!” Val smiled. “Can we get you anything else?”
“No. I’m fine. My ride is here so…” The woman still looked upset. Her eyes were glassy and her cheeks were red. She had long blond hair that was usually pulled into a neat twist. Today it was down in a messy braid. “Let me just…” She pulled out a wad of cash and stuffed it in the tip jar.
Val reached out and touched her hand. “You don’t have to do that.”
Savannah nodded, still looking at the tip jar. “Yeah, I do.” She looked up and met Val’s eyes. “Sorry.”
Honey was the one who spoke. “Ma’am, you do not have anything to apologize for.”
“That’s very kind of you to say.” She glanced at Val again, then down. “Have a nice afternoon. Thank you again.”
After Savannah walked out, Honey lowered her voice and said, “They were having some fight earlier.”
Val looked out the windows. “You see who’s picking her up?”
“I don’t know. Maybe one of her book club friends? He took her car.”
“That was her car?” Val’s mouth dropped. “Asshole.”
“Yup. I never see her with anyone but book club people or him. You think she really has a ride?”
“She wouldn’t have left without one,” Val said. “Pheasant Creek is twenty miles away at least.”
“Yeah.” Honey shook her head. “She needs to get out of that mess. I got a bad feeling about that man.”
* * *
Steve Garcia was the owner of Luxury Pro Autoworks, and he looked exactly like the kind of guy you’d trust to work on your hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle. His teeth were white and fiercely straight, and his skin was a golden brown. His technicians were wearing immaculate coveralls, but Steve was in a sharp red polo shirt with a logo on the breast pocket that matched the Luxury Pro Autoworks sign.
Val’d had a feeling she’d be dealing with someone along Steve’s lines, so she’d worn a simple pair of jeans and a flannel under her plum-colored parka. It was about as soccer mom as she could manage with a wardrobe that consisted of mostly black.
“I don’t know how much I can tell you, Mrs. Mason—”
“It’s Ms. Costa. Just Val. I’m Josh’s ex-wife, and I’m honestly not here to cause problems. I’m just asking around because I’m worried. He’s my boys’ dad and they’re worried, so I’m worried.” She spotted a picture on the console table behind the desk. “You’re a father, so I’m sure you understand.”
The manicured smile flashed. “If your kids are unhappy, you’re unhappy.”
“Exactly.”
She was sitting down for a friendly chat with the owner of Luxury Pro Autoworks while Robin and Monica did their best to get more information out of the ghost behind West’s garage.
“That said,” Val continued, “he’s also my ex. I have no illusions about what a great guy Josh is.” She shifted and flexed her ungloved hands on the arms of the chair.
Her medication was beginning to kick in, so the visions weren’t as fast or as furious. But there were several scenes she’d gotten so far. All were a mixture of excitement and twisting embarrassment. Luxury Pro was going to fix your vehicle, but they’d charge through the nose for the privilege. The emotions felt in this chair were all about feeling taken advantage of by the man across the expensive desk.
To say Val felt uncomfortable was an understatement. The emotions leaked into her until she folded her hands in her lap. She had the urge to wash her hands. Get some hand sanitizer going. Something.
Steve said, “As I said before, I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m just not sure I can tell you much that would be helpful.”
From the glimpses of memory and emotion, Val knew she was dealing with a savvy and clever businessman. “Josh was moonlighting,” she said. “How did you find out?”
There was a flash behind his eyes.
Oh, you don’t like being cheated, do you? You want to be the one with the upper hand.
“Unfortunately, I only learned about it when the customer came to me with the accusations of theft.” His tone turned to a carefully measured regret. “As I told him, that is why you hire a reputable company and not an independent operator. Especially not one who’s lying to his boss.”
“Did he have a noncompete clause in his contract?”
“All our technicians do.”
“Do you have other guys who could do the work that Josh did?”
Steve’s smile wavered only a second. “Josh had a very elevated opinion of himself. No one is irreplaceable.”
“But he was working on the high-end side, correct? Someone told me the client had a Maserati. You don’t find too many of those in Bridger City, right? Or many pe
ople who can work on them. Could Maserati parts run in the tens of thousands of dollars?”
Steve’s smile was frozen. “Possibly.”
“So why were the police so quick to jump to theft?”
“I believe it was because of the client.”
“Who was the client?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Steve’s genuine smile was back. He enjoyed keeping things from her. “Client confidentiality.”
I’m going to find out who it is anyway, dickhead. “Sure, sure, of course. Did Josh know you knew about the moonlighting?”
“I confronted him about it last week.”
“So he knew you were going to fire him before he disappeared?”
Steve paused.
Oh. Interesting. Was Steve not going to fire him? Hmmm.
“Josh was on probation here at Luxury Pro. Our human resources department has a process.”
A process? Or clients who needed Josh’s expertise. “Was it just the one client that he was working for on the side?”
“As far as I know, but…” Steve spread his hands. “People who tell one lie often tell another.”
“For sure!” She forced a sympathetic laugh, even though all this was rubbing her the wrong way. All of it. “Did Josh ever steal from you, Mr. Garcia?”
“He stole a client from my business.”
“But otherwise?”
The frozen smile was back. “As far as I know, he did not. But as I said, a person who lies about one thing often—”
“Tells another.” She smiled sweetly. “I know that better than anyone.”
Steve chuckled and Val joined him, biting back the snarl that wanted to curl her lip.
“Well,” Steve said, “if there’s nothing else—”
“Actually, I was wondering about his toolbox,” Val said. “Is it still here?”
Ah, hello again, frozen smile.
“It is.”
You were hoping no one would ask about that, weren’t you? “If it’s all right, I’ll have a friend come over and get it.”
In addition to his work truck, Val knew Josh would have kept his professional toolbox wherever he was working. Not only would examining it be a wealth of information for Val, that toolbox was probably worth thirty-five or forty thousand dollars at minimum and represented two years of Val’s own work at a particularly annoying accounting firm in Bridger.
She was not leaving the tools with Smiley Steve.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but as you’re Josh’s ex-wife, I’m not sure—”
“I can get my lawyer on it if you want.” Val fixed a polite, don’t-fuck-with-me smile on her face. “His girlfriend is… just a girlfriend. They’re not engaged. He had that toolbox from when we were married and if something has happened to him, it’ll belong to his boys. It’s better if we take care of it, that way you don’t have it hanging around.”
Steve was mentally debating; she could see it.
“Like I said, I’d be happy to get my attorney working on it. Or I could call the police and see what they want to do about—”
“That’s fine.” Steve’s smile fell. “You want it, you can have it. I want it gone by tomorrow, or I’ll sell it to recover the losses your ex-husband caused me.”
Oh hell no. Val rose, trying not to let the anger show on her face. She leaned on Steve’s desk and put both her hands flat on the surface.
Gross. He was fucking his secretary. Groooooooss. This man was a walking, talking stereotype.
“I don’t think you want to threaten me, Steve.” She kept her voice low and steady. “I’ve lived around here a long time and I know people. I know things. Like the affair you’re having with the nice lady at the front desk. I don’t think you want your pretty blond wife knowing about that, do you?”
Smiley Steve’s face went pale.
Val smiled sweetly. “You aren’t going to touch Josh’s toolbox or anything inside it. Let’s just part as friends, okay? I’m going to have someone come and pick up Josh’s stuff just as soon as I can. Do we have an understanding?”
“Fine.”
Smiley Steve really hated her. Val didn’t have to be psychic to figure that out. She straightened and walked out of the office, dialing her phone as she walked and fighting back a wave of nausea.
“West? Hey. Remember you said to call me if I needed anything? I need a favor.”
Chapter 9
Val walked to the nearest coffee shop to wait for Robin and Monica. She was frustrated. She was angry. And she had a giant bitch of a headache.
What was she doing? She was doing all this, going through all this mess for Josh? She’d tried so hard to restart her life—not the life she planned, but it was a good life—and he was still dragging her into his drama and bullshit.
Maybe he was off in Vegas, going to clubs, drinking with friends, and having a blast while she was back in Bridger City, cleaning up his mess.
Again.
Half an hour after she left Smiley Steve at Luxury Pro, her friends showed up, looking as frustrated as Val felt.
“Why do I feel like we’re working backward?” Robin asked. “Harry was there, but today he said he didn’t recognize Josh at all.”
Monica sat down with a sigh. “Ghosts are the worst.”
“Men are the worst,” Val muttered. “We should go home and forget about all this.”
Robin and Monica frowned. “What? Why?”
“Because this man is not my problem, okay!” Val bit her lower lip. “Why do I always have to be the responsible one? Why does that land on me? Maybe he just stays gone, and would that really be a bad thing?” She rested her face in her hands, covering her eyes as the headache began to batter her.
Monica rubbed her back. “I do not blame you for feeling that way. Not even a little bit.”
“Do you need an aspirin?” Robin reached for her purse.
“It’s not the headache—it’s not just the headache. It’s… my life.” She felt her eyes get wet and she blinked hard. “Every time I think I’m getting ahead or I’ve hit my stride, my ex-husband pulls some bullshit like this and it drags me down. I’m looking for him right now instead of working. This is literally costing me money. I’m going to be behind on paying off my credit card next month because Josh went missing and my boys asked me to find him.”
“Yeah,” Monica said. “It’s infuriating.”
“And he won’t appreciate any of it. He’ll say nice things, but then if I ask him to chip in when it comes time to buy school clothes or pay for Andy’s soccer gear, he’ll make an excuse why he can’t help out. Or he’ll miss a child support payment and I’ll have to wait for fucking tax season to get caught up.” She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “And if I ignore all this—pretend like it’s not my problem—my boys will never forgive me. Because Mom is the one who gets shit done.”
Monica was still rubbing her back. “Yeah. She is.”
Val blinked away the tears. “We get married and have these babies, and really our life doesn’t belong to us anymore, does it? It belongs to them. And we don’t get it back for a long time. Maybe never.” She raised her hands. “And now I have this… thing. And I don’t want it, but I can’t lie that sometimes knowing things—things that other people don’t know—it’s kind of addictive. I spied on Jackson the other day because of a bad grade on a chemistry project. Is that ethical? Am I a bad mother for doing that? I don’t know.”
“Val, you’re an awesome mother,” Robin said. “You are amazing. You do so much and you have no one helping you.”
She wiped her eyes. “You guys help. My mom and dad help. I’m in a lot better position than most single mothers.”
“But it’s still tiring,” Monica said. “And this whole mess…” She sighed. “I will tell you, the boys may not say anything now, but one day they will realize who their hero is. And it’s not the guy who donated sperm.”
“But no matter what Josh does, they’ll still love him.” Val frowned. “And I don’t
want them to not love him. Maybe I just want them to love me a little more.” She looked up. “See? Bad mom.”
“Not a bad mom,” Robin said. “I mean… we give birth to them. We cook their meals. We cleaned up so much poop.”
“So very much.”
“Dear Lord, there was so much poop.”
Val sat for a moment in silent gratitude that diapers would never be part of her life again.
“Secretly,” Robin continued, “we all want them to love us just a little bit more than they love their fathers.”
Monica pursed her lips. “Okay, I’ve never admitted that before, but you’re kind of right.”
Val couldn’t stop her smile. “I mean… we grew them in our bodies. I have permanent scarring from those boys.” She pretended to claw her stomach. “It’s like a mountain lion mauled my belly.”
Robin nodded. “We hosted them for nine months. Like parasites.”
“Adorable parasites,” Monica said.
“Eh.” Val shrugged. “You had cute, chubby babies. Mine were kind of thin and wiry. They got cute, but they were kind of funny-looking at first.”
Monica snorted.
Robin narrowed her eyes. “You’re right. Children ought to love their mothers more.”
“Right?” Val looked between her friends. Her headache was a little better. Her nerves were a little less raw. “Fuck, I love those little monsters. I guess we should find their deadbeat father.”
Monica bumped Val’s knee with her own. “Yeah, we probably should.”
Robin asked, “What happened at Luxury Pro?”
“I had to get mean with Smiley Steve about Josh’s toolbox.”
“Smiley Steve?”
Val rolled her eyes. “Josh’s boss. He had one of those super-fake smiles, you know? And he used it like a weapon. He was weird.”
“Do you think he had something to do with Josh disappearing?”
“No. But let’s just say I understand why Josh was moonlighting. The guy is a jerk and West says he doesn’t pay his guys well. Josh was proud about his work and he had a right to be.” Val shook her head. “I can’t understand why he never gets his shit together. Whatever. Not my problem.”
Semi-Psychic Life: Glimmer Lake Book Two Page 8