by Vicki Hinze
“Don’t use that word, Pam. I won’t have it.” Dana frowned. “And I’ll keep quiet about the antacid, though with the hornet’s nest around here, I don't see how anyone is avoiding an acidic stomach.”
“She’ll have you in Yoga five nights a week, and we both know it.”
Ana likely would. Dana logged out of her computer.
“I’ve been telling you for six months to back off those Macchiato Espressos from The Grind, but you come in every morning, carrying a cup.” Pam returned to her desk.
“Guilty.” And many of those mornings she had stood in line with Sylvia, who ordered a Green Tea with Chia Crème Frappuccino and a single chocolate croissant, except on Wednesdays. Then she always ordered an extra bagel or muffin. Dana had wondered for months why Sylvia’s pattern changed only on Wednesday, and finally she’d asked.
“Oh, I bring a treat to Troy Duval,” she’d said. “I do his house on Wednesday mornings.”
Only select people in Shutter Lake knew Troy was a recluse who had been married to the famous actress, Madelyn Yates. According to Thomas, his name had been Jason Lavelle back then, and he and his family had lived in Los Angeles. But then his wife and daughter had been murdered. After the horrible story had played out in the news, Jason had changed his name to Troy Duval and moved to Shutter Lake, where he’d become the resident mysterious recluse. Everyone knew he was there, but few knew his history and all respected his privacy. In the past few years, Sylvia had changed his designation from recluse to shut-in. No one who knew his story knew why, but since Sylvia was about the only person who ever saw Troy, those aware of him thought little of the change.
Who brought him a bagel now? Dana reached into her bottom desk drawer for her handbag. Retrieved it, betting Renata Fernandez, who’d taken over cleaning for him, didn’t. Poor man probably never saw anyone else.
Dana grabbed a pen and added him to her to-do list, then left her office. She paused at Pam’s desk. “Thanks for caring and for taking the nagging.”
“It’s a job perk.” She smiled.
“Well, I’m going to spare you any more of that perk for this year.”
“Good idea since Dr. Perez is hot on your trail.”
“Going to the medical clinic now to get the lab work taken care of. If the search party she sends for me arrives before I get back—“
“I’ll let them know you crossed paths.” Pam sighed. “It’s the last part. She’s done everything else. Just do it and get it over with.”
“I know.” Dana smiled. “I’ve been busy, okay?”
“Trust me, I know.”
She did. When Dana was busy, Pam was busier. That’s how it worked. “I appreciate you.”
“Don’t.”
“Excuse me?” Dana came to a full stop.
“When you appreciate me, you stop at Batter Up and get cupcakes.”
“But it’s Tuesday,” Dana said. “Heidi makes German Chocolate on Tuesdays. They’re still your favorite, right?”
“This, you remember. Great.” Pam guffawed. “I’m already doing an extra mile on the treadmill every morning, training up for the winter run. So you’re threatening me with my favorite cupcakes.”
“It wasn’t a threat.”
“My annual physical is in two weeks.”
Shutter Lake was huge on healthy living and lifestyles. Most residents thought that was their own idea, but the truth was, the founders insisted on it and encouraged it in every way. “If you nag, I’m going to detour to Batter Up. That’s a fact.”
“It’d be my luck Sheena Appleton will be filling in for Heidi or something.” She frowned, scrunching her nose. “It’s not her blue hair that gets me. Lots of people in their twenties do that. It’s wearing black all the time. Always brings funerals to mind.”
“It’s a fad. Comes and goes.” It had several times in Dana’s adult years, and likely would again.
“Sheena hasn’t come over from Grass Valley as Heidi’s backup baker since Heidi broke her wrist—and she’s a good baker.”
“Doesn’t do German Chocolate cupcakes like Heidi.”
“Who could?” Dana turned away.
Pam snagged Dana’s sleeve. “I wouldn’t mind if you’d bring me just one cupcake. But no more than that. Just one.”
“You got it.” Pam was in great shape. Dana smiled.
“Temptation,” Pam growled, “thy name is Dr. Dana Perkins.”
The phone rang. Afraid it was yet another parent, Dana rushed out of the office and left the building.
Chapter Ten
Dana retrieved her car from home, drove to Shutter Lake Medical Clinic on the edge of town, then parked in the joint lot between the medical clinic and the Chamber of Commerce. The sprawling, one-story stucco-and-brick building sat nestled between towering trees that shimmered sunshine. She walked to the wide, welcoming porch with its broad rocking chairs and wondered if she shouldn’t replace the chairs on her own front porch with rockers. She mentally added thinking about that to her to-do list and opened the tinted-glass door.
The medical clinic was as welcoming on the inside as on the outside. Comfortable cushioned chairs scattered in small groups created a charming lobby, and the magazines littering the tables were current issues, not cast-offs or ones a year out of date. From the council meetings, Dana knew the center was insanely well-equipped with the latest everything money could buy and technology could offer. That, Ana Perez had confided, was a fringe benefit in having an aging council accustomed to comfort and efficiency with gobs of money to spend. If they needed medical care, they wanted the best. Oddly, Ana didn’t see herself as the center’s best asset. Others did. But she did not.
“Dr. Dana Perkins,” Ana came walking out of the hallway to her office, and let out an exaggerated gasp. “As I live and breathe.”
Pam had called and told Ana that Dana was on her way. She smiled. “Call off the hounds. You won. I’m on my way to the lab right now.”
“Well, just to make sure you don’t disappear between here and there, I’ll handle you myself. You’ve cost my staff a lot of time, trying to get you in here.”
Dana had the grace to blush; her face heated. “Sorry.”
“Mmm.” Tall and thin with dark hair and eyes that twinkled amusement with her every word, Dr. Luciana Perez teased, but only someone empty-headed would believe she didn’t mean every word she said.
“I apologize, and I’ll remember not to trouble your staff unduly in the future.”
“Great.” She waved to a mother and young boy leaving the clinic. “No more swallowing pennies, Sam.”
“I promise.” The four-year-old boy lifted his right hand.
“Let’s go to my office.” Ana led the way through the hallway to her private domain.
“You painted it yellow.”
“Last year.” Ana grunted. “You really do have to stop dragging your physicals out, Dana.”
She guessed she did.
“Grab a seat and I’ll snag what I need to get your blood drawn.”
Minutes later she was back and cuffing Dana’s arm. “Your pressure is up. What’s going on?”
“The students were wired for sound today,” Dana said. “I expected it after that press conference yesterday.”
“They weren’t there.”
“No.” Dana slanted a glance at Ana. “But their parents were, and of course, whatever they say at home…”
“Comes right back to school through the kids.” Ana removed the cuff.
“Exactly.”
“How’s the stomach?”
“It was a little better until today. The antacid is taking care of it, I think.”
“Watch the spices.”
“Definitely.”
Ana drew two tubes of blood. “Not that you’ve asked, but everything looked great on your last physical. Test results all came back well within the normal range. You could do a little more Yoga and, I’m thinking, a little more meditation could help calm your stomach.”
&nbs
p; Dana groused but didn’t comment. The smell of the alcohol wipe burned her nose. Talking with Thomas about Phoenix had upset her. So had pulling out the photo and crying half the night, but Vinn being in jail upset her just as much. “There’s been a lot to deal with lately,” Dana said. “For you also, with you and Sylvia being good friends. You okay?”
“It’s kind of crazy,” Ana admitted. “One minute I’m fine. The next, I’m crying, and the minute after, I catch myself dialing her phone number to share something with her.”
“All of that is normal, Ana. It takes time.”
“I know.” She shrugged.
“Why didn’t you ever invite her to our girls’ night out?” Julia, Ana, Laney and Dana had been meeting on Wednesday nights for a long while now. Sylvia too was single. She would have fit right in.
Ana finished up and put a square of gauze on Dana’s arm over the puncture wound then taped it into place. “I mentioned it to her once, but girls’ night out is not really a Sylvia kind of thing.” Ana shrugged. “She had lunch with the girls at her office every day. I guess that was enough for her.”
Or maybe Ana wanted something separate of her own, like Sylvia’s lunches. Something Sylvia and she didn’t share. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
Dana rolled down her sleeve. “Did you ever treat any of the exchange students who stayed with the Windermeres?”
The used needle dropped to the bottom inside the red bio-hazard box. “You know I can’t answer that.”
Dana expected the medical privilege response and clarified. “No, I’m not asking for specifics. I was just reading about Venezuela. You know I went there a couple times before I moved to Shutter Lake.”
“Of course. Your mask collection.”
Dana nodded. “I was thinking about the student who was here for just a couple months. She worked part-time for Sylvia.”
“Josie Rodriguez?” Ana disposed of the remaining blood-drawing remnants and sat down at her desk. “What about her?”
“Was she ill while she was here?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“She left so suddenly.” Dana buttoned her cuff. “Here one day, gone the next.”
Ana’s focus sharpened. “When I mentioned her at girls’ night out last month, you told me Mrs. Windermere said there’d been a family emergency.”
“That’s what she told us at school regarding Josie’s absence. Then, of course, a few days later, she let us know Josie wouldn’t be coming back.”
“So family emergencies don’t come with advance notice. So what’s wrong, Dana?”
No sense trying to hide it. Something in all that was troubling her. “Nothing,” Dana said. When Ana just stared at her, Dana shrugged. “Okay, I’m not sure. Something…but probably nothing.”
“What about it is the something?” Ana asked.
“It’s just that I’ve never known an exchange student to give up their slot like that. They compete so hard to get it, you know? It just strikes me as odd.”
“It did me, too.”
“Really?” That got Dana’s attention.
Ana nodded. “I didn’t believe it. But I haven’t found anything to contradict it.”
Surprise shimmied through Dana. “You’ve looked.”
“A little,” Ana confided. “Okay, a lot. When a girl gets a break like that, to come here to school, she doesn’t give it up without a fight. It’s her one shot at a better life, and she knows it better than anyone else.” Ana twisted her mouth. “So, yes, I’ve looked. Hard, actually. But I couldn’t find anything.”
Maybe Dana would have better luck. “One more question.”
“Shoot, but make it quick. I’ve got a meeting with your favorite mayor.”
Dana frowned. “Knock off the matchmaking, Ana. We’re friends and colleagues. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms. “So what’s your question.”
“Did Sylvia tell you why she was going to Venezuela?”
“On vacation.”
“That’s what she’s told everyone.”
“And…?”
“I don’t believe it.” Dana had to make herself admit it aloud, but once she had, she knew she was right.
“Why not?”
“There’s a travel advisory alert out. There’s no food on the grocery-store shelves, and the government is a wreck. They’re in real trouble. It’s not a vacation paradise right now, that’s for sure. So she had to have another reason for going.”
“Sylvia was accustomed to her creature comforts.” Ana thought long and hard. “But a vacation is all she told me. Except that she’d send me videos of her adventures.”
“How could she do that?”
“Oh, she did videos all the time and emailed me the links to them. She has a private D.Tube channel.”
“Have you looked to see if she sent you anything—“
“It’s D.Tube, Dana. Not Heaven.com. No satellite transmissions from there to here.”
Dana dipped her chin. “I meant from before she passed away.”
“There aren’t any. That, I checked,” Ana confessed, sadness filling her eyes.
“Am I done?” She started to scoot off the chair.
“Yes—wait. It just hit me.”
“What?”
“Josie. She was from—“
Their gazes locked, and Dana said, “Venezuela.”
Ana drew in a sharp breath. “You think Sylvia was going there to find Josie?”
“I have no reason to think so,” Dana admitted. “But I don’t see why she’d take a vacation there right now, considering everything going on down there.”
Ana darted her gaze from one side of the room to the other. “It’d be just like her to go retrieve Josie and march her back here—so she has her chance for a better life.”
“That was my thought,” Dana said. “She sure tried to help all her other employees improve their positions, and Josie is the only employee who ever left Sparkle, too, isn’t she?”
Ana nodded. “So how do we find out if that’s what Sylvia was doing?”
“We keep looking.” Dana stood up. “Thanks for playing vampire.”
Thoughtful, Ana nodded.
Dana walked down the hallway and in the lobby saw Thomas. “If Ana is late,” she told him, “it’s the council’s fault.”
He smiled. “Why is that, Dr. Perkins?”
“If they didn’t require a full physical every year, she wouldn’t have to draw blood from me, and she would have been on time for your meeting. So…”
“It’s their fault. Got it.” He shook his head. “But I’m glad they finally got you in to take care of it. Now Gracie will stop reminding me we don’t yet have the report.”
She sniffed. “Well, at least it’s done. A terrible waste of good money—I’m fine—but it’s done. So Gracie can quit telling Pam to nag me about doing it.” She didn’t mention Ana’s staff’s nagging also. “It’s costing me some German Chocolate cupcakes.”
“Really sorry.” From his smile and the twinkle in his eye, he didn’t look sorry at all. “You free for dinner?”
“I am, if we can make it an early night.” She needed to look at Kristina’s project. Vinn’s had been revealing. Maybe hers would be, too. And she needed to dig a little more on Josie Rodriguez. If Ana’s intuition was telling her something wasn’t right there, then maybe something wasn’t right, and Sylvia heading to Venezuela wasn’t just a coincidence.
“How about we meet at Fitzgerald’s at seven.”
“That’d be wonderful. I’ve never been there for dinner.”
“I know, and after the delicious meal you made for us last night and my abrupt departure, it’s only right that I take you.”
Dinner on the lake sounded soothing. “It sounds great. I’ll see you there.”
“Mayor Jessup?” Ana called out from a few steps away. “Are you here to see me?”
“Now, I’m in trouble for keeping the tyrant wait
ing.”
“You know she is a stickler about her schedule,” Dana whispered.
“She is.” He winked. “See you tonight.”
“Mayor?” Ana nudged him.
“Yes, Dr. Perez.” He turned his attention to Ana. “Right here.”
Dana smiled farewell to the receptionist, then checked her watch. She had ample time for a stop at Batter Up Bakery before meeting with Wade Travis—and he’d better come to her office armed with the truth...and with a willingness to tell it.
Chapter Eleven
Inside Batter Up Bakery, Dana spotted Laney seated at one of two small tables, munching her way through a cupcake with butter-cream frosting. From the troubled look on her face, this wasn’t going to be a quick stop, after all. “Drowning your sorrows?” she asked.
Laney looked over at her. “I’m fine.”
The woman was anything but fine. Dark smudges under her eyes, tension in her jaw, and a haunted look all too familiar to Dana when looking in the mirror into her own eyes. Laney wasn’t sleeping well, and she was drowning her sorrows in cupcakes. “You know if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“I know. Everyone knows.” Laney curved her lips in what should pass to the untrained as a smile. “You’re the Shutter Lake keeper of secrets.”
“The what?” Dana crooked her tote on her arm. “Who told you that?”
“No one. Everyone just knows it, Dana. Well, everyone except you, apparently.” Laney shrugged. “Honestly, I guess it was a tossup between you and Sylvia Cole—you can’t hide things from someone who goes through your things all the time—but since she’s gone now…”
“I win the title by default.” Interesting. Keeper of secrets. Dana had no idea people felt that way, much less talked about it to one another.
“I guess you do.” Laney nodded. “No disrespect.”
“No offense taken.” Actually, there were a lot of worse things a person could be known for. Being able to keep secrets, especially around here, sounded pretty good. At times, it was a bigger burden to lug around others’ secrets than to haul our own. But everybody needs someone safe to talk to about things. From her own experiences, she understood that better than most. Everyone has trials and challenges, and some secrets cut so deep and are so dark we don’t want others to have a clue they exist in us. “So what’s wrong?”