by B. T. Alive
And she started to cry a little.
“Oh, Rhonda,” Tina said, moving forward and reaching with her free hand to pat Rhonda’s shoulder.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Rhonda said, clasping her hand. She sniffed. “I really have torn it this time. I don’t even remember when you came in.”
“Sheriff?” Tina said, arching the sheriff a severe look. “Could we get her out of here, please?”
“Oh, ah…” Sheriff Jake hesitated. “She did technically sign a confession of first-degree murder.”
“Technically,” Tina scoffed.
“No, no, he’s right,” Rhonda said, patting Tina’s hand back. She sighed. “I’ll have to call my lawyer and get it all straightened out. It’s my own fault. I’ll be perfectly fine. This bed is ridiculously comfortable.”
“So, just to be clear,” I said. “You didn’t murder anyone?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said. “I’m afraid I… I can get rather obsessed with people. It always passes.” She laughed a short, bitter laugh. “But when I’m in the throes, I’ll do almost anything. The grand gesture…” She trailed off, wistful, like an ex-alcoholic, long sober, remembering what it felt like to believe.
“The ‘grand gesture’?” I said. “You were obsessed with… Kelvin Shain?”
Rhonda looked startled, and I realized she really had forgotten everything, including Keegan’s chirping. The parrot was still preening on Tina’s hand, quiet and innocent as you please.
“That’s right,” she said, with another rueful smile. “And I’d only just met the man at this absurd wedding. Was I that transparent?”
“Not at all,” I said, truthfully enough. “I never would have guessed you loved him.”
“Love. I wish,” she said, sadly. She took a deep breath, then disengaged from Tina and sat on her bed, looking out the window into the gray. “Though the truth is, I feel better right this moment than I have in years. Clear. Must be something in the air here.”
“Or in the touch,” murmured Tina, so quietly that only I could hear.
A warm wave tingled through my chest. I felt wonder, and awe, and a little scared. I wondered if Cade had felt like this the first time he’d healed a tree. Healed? Me?
But was it a healing, or just a temporary relief? Whatever. I’d take what I could get.
“Ms. Cameron,” said the sheriff. “Can you specify why you felt you had to protect Mr. Shain by confessing to this murder? Did you have any evidence that he’d committed the crime? Anything you saw, anything he told you?”
“Wait, what?” I said. Somehow I hadn’t made this (fairly obvious) connection. “You thought Kelvin did it?”
“Why, of course he did, sweetheart,” she said. “Didn’t you hear Adora at the funeral, raving on and on about Dante Radcliff as the pinnacle of human manhood? Poor Kelvin must have been seething with jealousy.”
“But…” I faltered.
“An interesting theory,” said Sheriff Jake. He flicked me a glance, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Unless you can think of anyone else?”
Chapter 29
Despite Rhonda’s offers, Sheriff Jake decided it would be best not to keep her in the cell. And by “decided”, I mean, “totally caved to Tina.”
No sooner was Rhonda free, however, and the three of us out standing out on the police station wraparound porch, then she latched onto Tina like a long-lost roommate. A bit of the old pushiness and clinginess resurfaced, as Rhonda basically begged Tina not to leave her. She still didn’t really know anyone in Wonder Springs, and though the sheriff wasn’t going to hold her in jail, he wasn’t ready to let her fly out of town just yet either.
Tina felt bad for her, but even Tina wasn’t quite ready to get sucked into the Rhonda vortex indefinitely. Eventually, we all remembered that Rhonda still hadn’t really hung out with Noreen Quigg… and with any luck, the latter was still holding court at the pub.
“You’ll love her, she’s awesome,” Tina told Rhonda, patting the arm that had locked into hers. Then she nodded to me and, with an awkward reach, held out Keegan.
“What?” I said, as the bird and I shared a mutual flinch. “Oh no, he really likes you—”
“Just take him home, please,” she said, smiling sweetly, but with iron in her voice. “While he’s quiet.”
Oh. Good point. If Rhonda had a relapse, the last thing they’d need would be Keegan chirping out her obsessions in a Feedback Loop of Doom.
“My pleasure,” I said, taking the bird.
“Ouch,” chirped Keegan. “Damn claws.”
Rhonda giggled. “He talks!” she said. “That is adorable.”
“Take your time,” I told Tina. “I’ll go check in on Kelvin.”
“What? No, wait for me!” Tina said, horrified. “Don’t go in there alone.”
“We can’t let you!” Rhonda boomed. She dragged Tina back towards me. “We’ll all confront him together—”
“Whoa, whoa, okay,” I said. “Right. What was I thinking?”
“Great hair,” Keegan chirped.
“He does have great hair,” Rhonda said, sadly.
“I’ll see you later!” I chirped, nearly as high as Keegan, as I hustled out of there before that stupid parrot said anything worse.
“Wait till I get back!” Tina called. “Not alone!”
“Of course!” I called. “I promise!”
Of course. How could I possibly be stupid enough to go confront some possible murderer by myself?
You know where this is going, right? Do I really need to drag this out?
I honestly didn’t think I was going to until I was actually walking down the hallway towards his room. I’d somehow convinced myself this was a not-ridiculous pathway to get Keegan up to Tina’s room, and I was just reflecting that, amusingly, having Keegan pincering away at my hand meant I wasn’t actually alone, so I’d still be keeping my promise. Not that I was actually going to do it, except, oh look, there was his door, I remembered the number. I might as well knock and see if he was even here. He must have gone, right? It had to be lunchtime, at least.
Then came the panic. Had I just knocked? What was I thinking? I had Keegan! If I did have any lingering irrational attraction for this man, which of course had nothing to do whatsoever with why I was standing here, what the hell was I thinking bringing the mind-jabbering parrot?
On top of that, I must look like a disaster. I’d basically rolled out of bed this morning into yesterday’s pants and wrinkled shirt; even the venerable sheriff, no fashionista himself, had commented on my extravagant bedhead. With frantic, futile, one-handed gestures, I clawed at my cranial mop.
Then I thought, You do realize you’re here because he’s a murder suspect?
“Also he’s married,” chirped Keegan. “Also Cade—”
“Would you shut up?” I hissed.
“A pre-emptive strike. Well done,” said Kelvin Shain, standing in the open doorway and smelling wonderful in that same old museum-worthy dressing gown. “My prolix reputation precedes me.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” chirped Keegan.
Kelvin took in the parrot with an amused chuckle. Then he locked eyes with me, and we both stood quite still.
“Um,” I said. Was I fluttering? What was wrong with my stomach? Damn it, this was a murder investigation!
“Are you ever going to get dressed?” called Adora, as she slammed the bathroom door and came striding up. “I need your help. I can’t find my other earring, I’ve looked everywhere—”
As she came up beside him and saw me, she stopped, her fine face going cold. She was quite dressed up herself, with an autumnal sweater dress that could easily have landed her on the cover of a magazine.
“So sorry to interrupt,” she said. With a crisp, impatient gesture, she reached up to one ear and fiddled off her lone earring, a brilliant gold teardrop with a red stone carved as a heart. “I hope you don’t mind, darling, but I do feel the need to occasionally eat. Come join me if y
ou’re feeling human.” She flicked me a glance, then said, “I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Not alone,” chirped Keegan.
But she was already striding down the hall.
Another silence fell.
“Awkward,” chirped Keegan.
Wow, I thought. This was such an amazingly bad idea.
But Kelvin gave another of his jolly, lordly chuckles. “That bird is remarkable,” he said. “Won’t you come in?”
I should have left. Made an excuse. Wrong door. Thought I needed to pee, but it was a false alarm. Whatever.
Instead, I found myself sitting on an Edwardian loveseat while he closed the door.
Yes, there was a chair, but it was draped in various manly cast-offs, which I found myself eyeing. Summer! I castigated. Get a grip.
“Now,” he said, with a pleasant smile, also avoiding the chair and seating himself on the corner of the bed nearest me. “What may I do with you?”
My eyebrows shot up.
“For you,” he said, flushing. “My apologies.”
“With is fine,” Keegan said. “No it’s not. Shut up you stupid bird before I—”
“This is Keegan,” I said, trying to hold his beak shut. A sharp pain stabbed my fingers, and I opted to desist. “I think it’s a bad time for him,” I said quickly, “I can come back later, I was just dropping in to see if you killed Dante.”
Kelvin’s wide jaw fell open.
I clenched my own jaw shut. I didn’t think it was possible that I could blurt anything more stupid, but at that moment, I wasn’t taking any chances. My cheeks were burning so hot I had to be the color of a tomato.
“I see,” he finally said. “Well. Sorry to disappoint.”
“I didn’t think so,” I said quickly. “You seem like a…” I realized I was talking again, and I clamped my mouth shut. Then I saw that Kelvin was waiting, and I added, “… person.”
“Person?”
“Yes.” At the moment, I didn’t trust myself with adjectives.
“I am honored by your presumption of my innocence,” he said gravely. “Even so, you should know that my whereabouts last night were duly witnessed. I played whist in the Hearth with a series of charming companions, whiling away the hours until well past midnight.”
“Whist?” I said. “Again?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid my habits are remarkably dull. Adora was out, and I longed for… companionship.”
“Great!” I said. “Well, that’s all I wanted.”
“No it’s not,” said Keegan.
“Yes it is,” I said. “I’ve got to go.”
“Summer,” whispered Kelvin Shain.
I didn’t move.
Kelvin’s strong, absurdly handsome face had gone soft. His eyes seemed to hold me like I was the only woman in the world.
“Summer…” he murmured again.
“… from our first touch…” chirped Keegan.
Kelvin gaped, and he kind of scoot-staggered backwards on the bed, staring.
This time I did face-palm. “This is not happening,” I muttered. Louder, I said, “You can just ignore him. Seriously.”
“But… how…?” Kelvin stammered.
“He’s very highly trained,” I said, “he can pick up visual cues, very subtle, it’s amazing, he’s got these different parts of his brain that light up and it’s all neuroscience, really, I could explain it all if I just had some pretty brain pictures for you but I don’t and you’re clearly freaked out and that’s fine because, really, what am I even doing here with some married dude?” I stood up.
“Summer, wait,” he said. He stood too, and there we were, already too much closer. He stared again, and then murmured, “You’re so… beautiful.”
“And you’re so… original,” I said, even as my treacherous stomach did queasy cartwheels. “Also blind. I have epic bedhead.”
“You are utterly fit to be adored,” he murmured, and he leaned toward my face.
It occurred to me that this could be a standby punnish pillow line with his own dear Adora. Which is not the kind of thought you want as some dude is leaning in for the first real kiss that you’ve had in… oh… let’s see, are we counting all the way back to zap-free? Cause that would be never. And I admit that in that moment, in that last half-second as his warm, soft lips drew close, and his heat bathed my cheeks, and I imagined a touch that would end in delight, in sweetness, with no stab of pain or dazed confusion or awkward humiliation, the ache of a lifetime of yearning bloomed in my chest like fire, and my eyes burned with tears.
We kissed.
And I was so blissed out that it truly took me a second to feel the bite of the jolt.
But when it came, it was brutal. Aren’t the lips one of the most sensitive parts of your body? I believe it.
Not that the physical pain was the worst part.
I stood there, stunned, reeling with disappointment, as Kelvin staggered back, open-mouthed and bewildered. He wavered, then lunged out to me for support, and before I could dodge him, he managed to zap himself a second time on the base of my neck, sending shooting agony down my spine and knocking himself clean unconscious. He collapsed backwards, tumbling half onto the bed and then sliding to the floor.
I stared at his slack, unmoving face, dumbfounded.
“Cade,” chirped Keegan.
“I know,” I said. “I messed up. Bad.”
“CADE!” Keegan screeched, flapping hard in my hand.
A cold horror iced my back before I even looked up. It was like I already knew.
But there he was. Standing among the bushes at the ground-floor window, staring in like a vengeful ghost.
Cade. And his face said he’d seen it all.
Chapter 30
I ran around to the window and hurled it open. The cold, wet air from outside stabbed me in the face, and Keegan squawked with dismay.
“What are you doing here?” I said. Behind him, a back yard of the Inn stretched off into a patch of brooding forest.
“Tina texted,” he ground out. “She said you might need… help.”
His voice was awful, and trying to meet his gaze was like watching the needle slide into your vein as you get the shot. I forced myself to watch.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I said.
“Yes it is!” Keegan screeched.
“I hate you!” I roared at the bird. I was half crazy.
“I know!” Keegan screeched.
I gasped for breath, willing myself to calm. “Listen, it was stupid, he just started saying all this stuff and we’d actually touched once and I just, I lost my head. I thought maybe, just once…”
Cade cut his gaze past me to Kelvin sprawled on the floor. A foot jutted out past the bed, twisted in a ridiculous slipper. “Yeah,” Cade said. “How’s that touch working out for you?”
“I messed up, okay?” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Cade said quietly. He crossed his arms, hugging them tight until his biceps bulged. “This is better.”
“No!” I said. “No. Don’t say that. Geez, it wasn’t even… my lips still hurt—”
He squinted, his gaze turned inward. “Fiona was right,” he muttered.
“Of course,” I snapped. “Fine, whatever. You should totally believe any crazy thing she says about me.”
“Not you,” Cade said quietly. “Me. She’s right about me. I’m the one who’s being selfish.”
“What?” I said. I might have been freaking out before, but only now did the first real terror open in the pit of my gut, the crack into the abyss. Cade might forgive me anything, but if she’d found some fiendish tortuous logic where he could blame himself…
“Look at you,” Cade said. “You’re in a hotel room, trying to kiss some random middle-aged married guy because you thought he might not zap you.”
“But—”
“I’m not blaming. I’m saying… you need this. Just because I could wait doesn’t mean I should ask it of you.”
“No! No no no, Cade, stop it!” I cried. “I can wait, I will wait!” But even as I was saying it, I was reaching for him. I didn’t even know I was doing it.
Cade drew back, shoving into the crackling bushes as he kept the space between us.
“Stop! I can do this!” I was babbling now. “I’ll wait forever, Cade, I want you! I want you.”
And as I screeched those last words, reaching for him without even knowing that I did, across a yard or more of empty space, Cade jolted… without me even touching him.
I yanked back my hand, shocked by the pain, and Cade thrashed, shattering the branches. In the gray, dead light, his bare arms flexed, twisted, sprouted… feathers. Gray-and-white feathers, with accents of red.
“A bird?” I breathed. “Like Keegan? But last time…”
Even as I spoke, his face was changing. His thick dark curls were swirling aside, shoved and displaced by tiny, waxy… leaves? And the stubble on his face was crackling into sticks.
“See?” he said, in a guttural groan that was raw and wild and deep but still, like his eyes, Cade. “I can’t control it. Whatever’s nearest…. loudest… I succumb.”
I was crying now. Crying with rage. “But I’m not even touching you,” I moaned.
“I know,” he croaked. “Goodbye, Summer.”
And he smashed off into the dark wild forest, hobbling on legs gone strange and leaving me utterly alone.
Chapter 31
It was later.
An hour had passed, maybe three, I didn’t care. The sky was still gray and dead, the air cold and achey as it seeped through my open bedroom window. I was lying on my bed in the shadows, staring at the ceiling, trying to muster the willpower to either close the window or else get under the covers. Neither seemed worth it. Or maybe I just thought I deserved to get sick. More.
Even Mr. Charm had ditched me. He was huddled in his little basket bed on top of the dresser, sleeping hard. I probably could have picked him up, but again, that would have involved moving.
I know you’re probably already getting impatient reading this, even though there’s no way you haven’t felt like this yourself at least once. If you have, you know it has this timeless quality to it… we may all say we wish we had a time machine, but I don’t see anyone signing up to step sideways out of a drizzly afternoon into eternity.