by Tess Grant
Kitty shrugged and began shredding the soggy label of the water bottle. “I’ve been so busy this summer. I guess I’ve been kind of neglecting her.”
“Kind of,” Joe said. “And you know Jenna—she likes to run your life. What are you thinking, doing things on your own?”
Kitty looked at Joe’s smile and grinned back. “I know, crazy me.” She spun the bottle in her hands a few times, droplets slinging off onto her legs and shorts. “Does she really feel neglected?”
“I don’t know.” Joe waved at a couple jaywalking across the street. “She says she never hears from you anymore. But I never hear from her anymore, and I bet you’re the same. I don’t know who’s moving on, but I think somebody is.” He sat up and his voice changed as he greeted the approaching pair, Tim and Zoe. “Hey guys. Have a seat.” He extended a hand toward the curb in front of them.
The parade started with the usual fire truck, lights flashing and sirens way too loud for the packed street. The marching band was next, playing first the fight song, then the drum cadence over and over again. Kitty could pick out all the incoming freshmen; they were all out of step and the only ones reading sheet music. The veterans came next and the yelling swelled. Phinney wasn’t among them. He didn’t seem like the parade type anyway. Pulling out his flask mid-route would not be approved by the town council. The parade dropped into its small town routine of pretty much whoever wanted to be in it was in. The auto parts store had a truck and the ambulance followed behind it. People marched with political signs and threw candy at the crowd on the sidewalk.
Little kids around them dove for the suckers and bubble gum. Tim reached down and snagged a handful, passing a few over his shoulder to Joe. Joe poked at the candy with a finger, selecting a yellow-wrapped taffy and twirling it in the air. “There’s only one banana and there’s two of us.”
“We could arm wrestle for it,” Kitty suggested, curling her arm and flexing.
Joe held out the taffy. “I’m afraid you’ll beat me.”
Kitty smiled. He would have given it to her anyway.
“Sam and Eric will be mad they missed it,” he said.
“They’re here somewhere. My mom brought them.”
He nodded distractedly and leaned closer. “Here comes the dance team’s truck.”
A big Ford streaming with crepe paper coasted along. Ten matching girls filled the bed. It wasn’t just their corresponding red shorts and white tank tops, but their ponytails, super tans and red lipstick. Kitty had been right to bag the tryout. She would have looked like an idiot in that outfit. She almost couldn’t pick Jenna out among the candy cane swirl. She finally found her—mostly because she was the shortest—and waved wildly. Jenna waved back, teeth flashing as white as her shirt. Deb sidled over, draping her arm over Jenna. Kitty might have wilted a lot faster a month ago. Today, she pulled up a mental picture of Deb out in the woods with Phinney, smiled a bright smile and held her fingers up in a peace sign.
“There you go,” Joe whispered encouragingly from her side. “It’s all attitude.”
Deb flashed her white teeth—did the whole team share one of those drugstore boxes of strips?—in a tight smile and turned away.
Kitty watched the truck make the turn at the corner. Reaching out, she tapped her fingers on Joe’s arm. “Let’s go do something.”
The wind blew hard this high up, and Kitty laughed nervously as the Ferris wheel seat tipped backwards. It probably wasn’t more than an inch or two off level, but it felt like she was going to go over backwards. She tilted forward a little to compensate.
Joe watched her. “You’re not scared, are you?”
“I don’t like waiting while they fill up. It’s tippy. Once we get going, I’ll be fine.” The Ferris wheel bumped upward another two feet as a father-son duo loaded down below. Kitty stared fixedly ahead at the red slate roof of the town hall. She had already looked down at the parking lot once. Once was enough.
“I thought the new Kitty Irish wasn’t scared of anything.”
Kitty reacted sharply, trying to read his face. What does he know? But Joe peered over the painted side of the seat at the parking lot below them. “The new Kitty Irish? What does that mean?”
“Huh?” He pulled away from the side and turned toward her. “Oh,” he said with a shrug as her words registered. “Nothing. You’re just not your usual self this summer. Why? What’s up?”
“It seemed like an odd thing to say, that’s all.” Kitty hazarded a glance down through the metal arms. “I think we’re almost full.”
Joe leaned forward to look, and the car swayed alarmingly.
“Hey!” Kitty yelped, grabbing his arm and leaning backwards. “Jerk.”
He laughed. “Sorry. You’re right. We should be rolling any time now.” He righted himself, and the car rocked gently back to level. “Jerk, huh?” He mimicked her voice of a minute before. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The Ferris wheel jolted, and their car surged upwards. Kitty laughed as they swung higher, curving over the top and around. Wisps of hair that had fallen out of her clip blew around her face. Up and down, around the loop. Joe grabbed her hand and tried to lift it off the wooden bar that clamped tight across their knees. Her grip whitened a little as she clung tighter.
“You’re not a heights girl, are you?” he yelled against the backdrop of carnival music and wind.
She shook her head.
They came to a stop half a car’s length past the top. As each seat emptied, they dropped down closer to the sweaty tattooed man running the ride. Joe used his index finger to push a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Look.” He swiveled his finger out past the front of the Ferris wheel. Kitty followed his lead. Jenna was standing there. Alone.
“Looks like someone slipped back a few rungs on the social ladder,” Kitty said.
Joe tucked another wisp of hair behind her ear. “Maybe she just wanted to see you.”
* * *
“That car sure is going by slow. They must be looking for somebody,” Sam said from near the window.
Kitty turned; she had been setting up a board game on the card table. Jenna had volunteered eagerly enough to come back to the Irish’s for the rest of the night. Neither one of them mentioned Deb. Kitty figured that the newbies on the team got sent packing after the parade. Now, both Joe and Jenna were in the kitchen with the paper and Anne, trying to figure out the best place to watch the fireworks.
“Let me take a look,” Kitty said. Coming close to the window, she put her hands on Sam’s shoulders and steered him toward the table. “Why don’t you finish setting that up for me?”
She peered through the blinds. The blue Caprice crawled by. She could only see the shape of the driver, but she knew it was Phinney from the contour of his crew-cut head. Somehow, her gut had known as soon as Sam had mentioned it. Letting the blinds fall into place, she turned away. She’d see him when she was ready.
Chapter Nineteen
A few stray rays of sunlight still streaked over the horizon and made a shimmering path across the dark blue of the lake water. It was the long twilight of summer, and the soft light promised to linger at least another half-hour before vanishing in that weird instant when Mother Nature finally turned off the lights. Kitty stood at the top of the hill for a minute looking at the sequined water. Oakmont had a surface like that—pretty and placid—and underneath it was the dark.
Jenna and Joe were already down at the beach area. Joe stood indecisively on the small bank leading to the swimming area, and Jenna squealed as she dipped a toe in. Kitty tugged her shorts down past her suit and dropped her T-shirt right there. Without a word, she ran down the hill and between the two of them. Jumping as she hit the edge of the bank, she flew out, landed on her feet and churned deeper through the quiet liquid warmth. Two yells of protest came from behind her, and she heard corresponding splashes. Swimming had always been her strong suit though, and she dove, slicing through the glitter of the sunset path. Kitty half expecte
d it to be hard, a living bridge between the sun and the water. It yielded though and she arrowed underneath it, following it until her lungs ached, and she came up spluttering. She was farther out than she expected, out past the drop-off where the water was nearly black. She curled her legs up, tucked in the warm band of water near the top.
Jenna was standing at the edge of the swimming area waving. “Come back, mermaid girl. Come back.”
Kitty extended her legs down and felt the deeper water curl its cold fingers around her ankles. She jerked in surprise when Joe surfaced next to her. “Geez, I didn’t know you were coming.”
His hair slicked wetly back from his forehead but the curls at his shoulders still managed to assert themselves. “I was going to grab your leg but didn’t think you’d like it very much. Thought I’d come out as bodyguard,” he said with a wink. “I know you like lake weeds almost as much as you like heights.”
“Look, I’ve seen things that would curl your hair.” As it came out of her mouth, Kitty was suddenly struck by the fact that it was true. She frowned, confused, looking down to the white curve of her legs against the black of the lake. Shaking her head, she finished lamely, “Oh wait, your hair’s already curly.”
Joe slipped through the water getting nearer to her as she spoke, and when she looked at him, she was surprised by how close he was. She could see the droplets of water pooling in the hollows of his clavicles. His dark blue eyes seemed to fill his whole face. “Kitty,” he started.
A yell from Jenna cut him off. “You two are making me feel like a third wheel,” she hollered. “Get in here.”
“Those are our marching orders,” Kitty said. She felt half-relieved, half-irritated by the interruption.
“Can’t she wait?” Joe asked, looking more than a little annoyed.
“Come on,” Jenna yelled again.
“Guess not,” Kitty said, tugging on his arm and striking out for the shore. “Come on.”
She rolled once and looked back. Joe was still treading water where she had left him.
Tiny minnows darted in silver clusters in the shallows, and Jenna herded them around with her feet. Kitty joined in, marveling at their ability to all turn the same direction at once.
“So is that what you two have been up to?” Jenna asked as they chased the little fish. “No wonder you never call.”
The minnows cut right, then reversed direction completely. Kitty cocked her head. “How do they do that?”
She saw Joe’s muscular calves out of the corner of her eye. Looking at his stormy face, Kitty caught his gaze and winked. He softened a little around the eyes. When he looked down, she tackled him, sending him reeling backward into the deeper water. Jenna piled on and shrieked with laughter as Joe somehow managed to get his feet underneath him and toss her off. He turned for Kitty but she dove out of reach.
They roughhoused for as long as they could in the failing sunlight. Kitty tried to stand on Joe’s shoulders but fell off, and Jenna showed off her handstands. The minnows were long gone, driven away by the splashing and yelling.
“I’m cold,” Jenna complained. “The sun’s almost down. I’m going in.”
“I guess we should wrap it up.” Joe agreed. “I have to work tomorrow morning.”
Kitty dove toward the middle of the lake, reluctant to give up the moment. The water felt warmer than the cooling air, and she sank chin-deep into it. Turning at the last edge of the swimming area, she surveyed the beach. Jenna toweled off midway up the beach, and Joe stood halfway between Kitty and the sand.
She rolled her head back on her neck, and as she did, a silhouette on the cusp of the hill caught her eye. Four legged and shaggy, it looked huge standing over the small lump of her clothes in the grass. A small orange-tinged crescent of a moon hung in the sky behind it.
What is that thing? That’s no full moon. Phinney said it had to be a full moon.
She started toward the beach, terrified for Jenna. Her back was wide open and unprotected, all that white fragile skin exposed to the creature’s fangs. The water, her buoyant caressing friend of a moment before, became hateful. She fought against its drag. It held on tight though, persistent in its clinginess.
Joe saw her face then looked at Jenna in alarm. “What is it?” he yelled. “What is it?”
Kitty kept struggling and came up beside Joe right as the shape from the hill started to run down toward Jenna. “Joe,” she cried, “it’s going to get her.”
Joe grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the beach. As they made the sand, the animal reached Jenna. It bounded around her feet, tail wagging.
Kitty sagged with relief. “It’s a dog,” she said, eyes tight with tears. “It’s a dog.”
“Geez, Kitty, you scared me half to death. What did you think it was?” Joe leaned over his legs, breathing hard, and the shaggy Husky sprang toward him.
“I don’t know,” she lied. “I didn’t know what it was.”
Jenna smiled as the dog frisked around them. “That’s the Shepardson’s dog. They live over by the parking lot, and they never keep him in the house. The cottage association yells at them all the time, but I guess they don’t care. Do they? Do dey? Dat’s a good boy.” She baby-talked to the Husky as she cupped his ears in her hands, rocking his head from side to side.
Kitty walked away, heart beating hard, and hiked up the hill to her clothes. She stopped at the top. Her two friends played with the animal she had thought was going to kill them a minute before. Whatever else the dog had done, it certainly reminded her of what she was supposed to be doing.
When she spoke, it was to the night air and the crescent in the sky. “Looks like my vacation is over.”
Chapter Twenty
“Hey. You in there?” Kitty rattled the screen on Phinney’s door, banging it against the jamb. Nothing moved inside. She banged the screen again. She couldn’t penetrate the shadows in the cabin beyond that first initial glare of mote-ridden light. He was somewhere around; after all, the door was unlocked.
She sat down on the top step. The sun beat down, and the sleepy warmth of it began to spread through her arms and legs. The path coming through the woods to Phinney’s was always slightly cool and damp. Not much sun managed to filter through the thick tops of the trees. She usually came out into the meadow with goose bumps, and the heat here on the porch was welcome. Leaning back against the porch column, she traced a crack in the old board of the step below her. She was debating going home versus napping on the glider when she thought she heard voices.
Kitty tried to quiet her breathing so that she could hear. It was definitely voices. Phinney was talking to someone out back, or front, depending on how she looked at it. She wondered who else came to see the old man. She managed to sit still for all of two minutes before her curiosity got the better of her. She crept down the stairs, keeping to the outside edges of the battered boards. The warped middles creaked. She walked quickly around the edge of the cabin and stayed there leaning against the sidewall. She could make out Phinney’s rumble, but the other voice was muffled, and she couldn’t make out any words they said. She tiptoed closer to the corner stopping a foot or two shy of it.
Suddenly, she heard the thump of a door closing and an engine turning over.
“Thanks for checking that. That’s going to really narrow that area down.” Phinney said. “Keep it up.”
She heard the engine drop into gear and the spurt of gravel as the car turned out on the lane.
“Kitty, you can quit spying now,” Phinney called. “Come on out.”
Kitty walked around the corner, shoulders slumped. Disappearing into the tunnel of green down the lane was a small red car with a dented trunk. That’s small enough to be an Escort, she thought. But who’s watching? The adoring younger brother or the namesake that came years afterwards? She turned her attention to Phinney. “How’d you know?”
“Your shadow. It was hanging out there as big as life.”
“Damn it,” she said. “I was trying to b
e sneaky. I’m starting to wonder about those extrasensory powers. You said you didn’t have any, but you don’t make any noise in the woods, you can sit forever without moving, and you see me when I’m spying.”
His mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “The first two are practice, the last one is observation. You’ll get there. Besides, you’re not a very good sneak. And don’t swear—it’s not nice.”
“You swear,” Kitty said laughing.
“I’m an old man,” Phinney said. “If you can’t swear when you’re old, what the hell is the point?” And he grinned that way he had.
The two of them walked around the back of the cabin toward the porch.
“Who was that?” Kitty asked.
Phinney stopped and faced her, appraising her need to know. “One of my spotters. Had some information on a kill from last month. I’ve been waiting for something to come in, and nobody has found anything. Until now.”
“But who was it?”
Phinney smiled and started walking again. “Females are always poking around for information. I told you at the beginning: Nobody knows who anybody else is.”
“I don’t see any of them going out in the woods with you. Doesn’t that make me special?”
Phinney face creased in a delighted grin. “Now you’re getting the hang of it. It does make you different, but you still don’t get to know.”
Kitty climbed the stairs ahead of him, shaking her head in mock defeat. “Will I ever?”
“When you need to know, I’ll tell you. But if we’re lucky, that day will never come.”
Kitty turned. He moved up the stairs as if his knees hurt, pulling on the railing to give himself some extra lift.
“So where was the kill?”
He took the last step and blew out his breath. “Damn knees. They act like they’re ninety years old.”
“Don’t swear. It’s not nice.”
Kitty moved into the cabin as he held the door open for her. They had fallen back into the old routine as if she hadn’t been missing for the last week plus. She decided to keep it that way. No sense bringing up her absence or the scare with the Shepardson’s dog that drove her back.