by Dawn Eastman
I drove back to my mother’s place and found Seth, Dad, Mom, and Vi working with the pendulum again. Well, Mom, Vi, and Seth were working with the pendulum. Dad was sitting at the far end of the dining room table with the newspaper held up as a shield. Baxter gave me his usual sloppy greeting and snorted when I didn’t offer any treats. Tuffy hopped on his hind legs, ran in a circle, and then went to lie down in the corner.
Seth grinned. “I taught him to do that. It’s better than barking.”
“Where have you been all morning?” Vi asked.
“I had a couple of errands,” I said.
“You missed lunch,” Mom said. “Let me get you something.” She put the pendulum back in its bag, for which I was grateful, and headed into the kitchen.
“Did your errands involve finding out anything about the case?” Vi asked.
“I went to talk to Bea Paxton,” I said.
“Faith’s mom? Why?” Seth asked.
“She was there with the protesters last night.”
Seth nodded. “Yeah, Faith says her mom is always protesting something with that church gang.”
“When do you have all these conversations with Faith?” I said.
“We text. Sometimes.” Seth didn’t meet my eyes.
“Here you go,” Mom said. She carried a sandwich and a mug of tea, which she placed in front of me.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across the table from me.
“So, tell us. Did you find out anything on your ‘errands’?” Mom used air quotes for “errands.”
I shook my head. “Not really.” I told them about meeting with Bea and the strange vibe I got there. But it felt more like excessive conservatism than anything threatening. I ended by saying, “I may not agree with their beliefs, but they have a right to them.”
“They may have a right to them but they should leave everyone else alone.” Vi picked up her knitting and viciously stabbed at the stitches.
“That’s right, Vi,” Mom said. “You don’t see the Wiccans picketing their church, do you?” I was surprised by this since my mom had never been a big Wiccan supporter. Maybe after witnessing the fracas at the memorial she had changed her mind.
“Bea doesn’t approve of Skye’s choice,” I said, “but what parent agrees with everything their kid does?” Mom snorted and nodded. Dad rattled his newspaper.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, I told them about my encounter with Morgan at Rafe’s house.
“Do you think she took the will and the family tree?” Seth asked.
I shrugged. “It’s possible, but I don’t know why she would want them.”
“She’s a strange one,” Vi said, darkly.
“She told you to talk to Lucan?” Dad asked. “Do they even know each other?”
“They were both in Rafe’s coven until Rafe kicked her out,” I said.
“What does Diana know about that coven?” Vi asked. “Seems like there was an awful lot of drama going on.”
“I’ll ask her when I see her next. I don’t know how much she can tell us. She tried to stay out of that sort of thing. It’s not good for business to take sides.”
Dad nodded. “She’s done a good job with that store. Much better than her father ever did with his used books.”
“That’s true, Frank.” Mom smiled in his direction. “Want to come for dinner tonight, Clyde?”
“I can’t, but can Seth hang out here tonight?” I asked.
“Of course.” Mom turned to Seth. “Do you want to sleep over, Seth?”
Seth lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Sure.”
“What are you doing?” Vi asked. “Are you going to follow Lucan? I’ll go with you. I think we need to keep an eye on him.”
“I’m going out . . . with a friend.”
“Who? Diana, Alex?” Vi leaned forward.
“No, it’s . . .”
Seth interrupted. “It’s Tom, isn’t it?” He tilted his head and lifted both eyebrows. His less-than-subtle cue that he was going to cover for me.
I smiled and didn’t respond.
Seth rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter so you can go out with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not her boyfriend,” Vi said. Then, almost to herself, she said, “At least, I hope not.”
“I could use some help with the computer, Seth. Maybe we could look at your math homework again,” Dad said. Dad didn’t know what he was covering for, but jumped into the fray.
“Yeah, okay,” Seth said.
“Where are you going, Clyde?” Mom asked.
“Just out to dinner. No big deal.” I pushed away from the table to end the conversation. I said good-bye and headed toward the front door, but I could feel Vi’s inquisitive stare follow me out.
31
I parked in my driveway and opened the back door for Baxter out of habit. Then I remembered I’d left him at my parents’ house along with Tuffy and Seth. I raced up the front steps and went into the house. My mind was swirling with suspicions and snippets of conversation. I tried to piece together all the bits of information I had picked up over the past week. So much had happened since Halloween night, only one week ago. I wanted to spend one evening not thinking about any of it. I hoped Mac felt the same way.
Since Mac and I had had a rough start to this new romance, it left me wondering where things stood between us. Our decision to take things slow had started to feel glacial. Had we missed our window of opportunity? Any new relationship, even if it was a second chance, needed momentum. Ours seemed to have skipped the courtship and gone straight to the post-honeymoon (without any honeymoon, I might add). Tonight I hoped to turn things around.
I had to dig through some boxes from my move to find any makeup beyond mascara. Flashes of Morgan’s overly made-up eyes had me hesitating as I assessed the situation in the mirror. Barring colored contacts, there was no way to disguise the different-colored eyes. They were very different and I thought it made my face look like a composite of two different people. Sisters, certainly. I didn’t resemble Frankenstein, but still, the asymmetry meant that even if I met that mathematical ideal all the magazines talked about, something always appeared “off” about my face. Mac obviously knew about my eyes, so trying to disguise them would only serve to draw attention. I pulled my brown hair out of its usual ponytail and fluffed it. I always hoped Diana’s curls would rub off on me, but no luck.
Jeans, a long-sleeved, slightly clingy shirt, and a leather jacket would have to do for a seductive outfit. I never wore skirts. But I chose an old pair of high-heeled boots because I knew Mac liked them. I heard Mac’s four-beat knock before I could rethink my outfit or change my shoes. Before I answered the door, I reached for my phone and turned off the volume—no one would be interrupting us tonight.
Mac’s blue eyes grew dark when I opened the door. “You look fantastic.”
He glanced around the living room and up the stairs.
“Seth’s at my parents,” I said.
“That’s very good news.” He pulled me to him and we celebrated our few moments of privacy. Then my stomach growled.
Mac laughed. “Hungry?”
I shrugged and nodded.
“Let’s go,” he said. Then he leaned toward me and whispered, “I don’t want you weak from hunger.”
My feet wobbled in my boots as I followed him out the door.
We ended up in Grand Rapids. I didn’t want to take any chances of being seen by anyone who would report back to my family.
We spent the next couple of hours happily anonymous at one of the new restaurants downtown that featured multicourse dinners. The benefit was that it took a while and the pace of the evening slowed. I felt my shoulders relax and knew that this is what I had desperately needed. We avoided any mention of Rafe Godwin or Dylan. I didn’t want to argue
with Mac tonight and even though I did think he could do more to help Dylan, I knew he was doing his job and wouldn’t let any personal feelings get in the way of that.
I told him funny stories about the festival and some of the crazy stuff I had seen at the booths. When I got to Morgan and her revenge spell kits, Mac did a dramatic shiver and steered the conversation away from black magick.
By the time the check arrived, we had finished a bottle of wine and were laughing about old times. I leaned on Mac on our way out of the restaurant, feeling unstable on the unfamiliar heels. In his car, we spent a few minutes steaming up the windows until some kids from the art school wandered by, hooting and catcalling. Mac put the car in gear and we headed south toward home.
* * *
We were just outside of Crystal Haven, listening to oldies on the radio and looking forward to the rest of the evening, when we came around a bend in the road and Mac’s headlights caught a light-colored lump on the side of the road. At first I thought it was a dog that had been hit by a car. But it wasn’t.
“Shit,” Mac said.
He pulled the car over to the side of the road and jumped out to check on the person—because we could see now that it was a person—lying on the shoulder.
Mac reached the crumpled form first and I saw him check for a pulse.
“Clyde, call 911.”
I had already dialed and was waiting for them to pick up. The person was large, with dark red hair pulled into a ponytail. He was wearing running gear and even as my mind pushed the thought away, I realized it was Lucan.
Mac knelt next to him. “You’re going to be fine. We’ve called for help.”
Lucan groaned softly.
“Don’t move, just stay where you are,” Mac told him. We both knew it was best to keep him still in case he had suffered a neck or back injury.
“Big SUV,” Lucan said.
Mac and I exchanged a worried look.
“A car hit you?” Mac asked. But Lucan didn’t answer.
Mac felt for a pulse again. “Where’s that ambulance?” He glared down the road as if that would bring it more quickly.
Lucan moved his head and coughed.
“Lucan, can you hear me?” Mac said.
“Should we take him to the hospital ourselves?” I said.
“Lucan, can you move at all?” Mac said.
Lucan raised his hand and started to try to sit up. He cried out in pain and lay back down.
I noticed his leg was at an odd angle. “Mac, I think his leg is broken.”
“He’s breathing okay and I don’t know how we’ll be able to move him,” Mac said. “It’s probably best to just wait for the ambulance. You stay here with him. I have some flares in my trunk. I’ll put them along the road so we don’t have any more accidents.”
Feeling completely useless, I sat on the gravel shoulder and watched Lucan.
“It backed up,” Lucan said quietly.
“What? What backed up?”
“Car.”
“The car that hit you backed into you?”
I thought it must have been going pretty fast in reverse to do this kind of damage.
“Drove over . . . legs.”
I gasped. “The car that hit you backed over you?”
He nodded and coughed again.
“Okay, just stay still.” I patted his shoulder because it was the only part of him that didn’t look beat-up. “We’ll get you some help.”
“Call Diana, please. I need to see her.” Several things clicked into place: the sense he was hiding something when we first met, Vi’s photo of him going into the police station when Diana was there, Diana taking his hand and leading him into the Reading Room. Were they dating? I could hardly be mad at her for keeping this from me when I hadn’t told her about Mac all summer. But still.
Mac came back and sat with us and I told him what Lucan had said. Mac tried to get him to repeat it but Lucan had passed out.
Just when I thought Mac was going to try to drag Lucan to the car on his own and drive him to the hospital, we heard sirens in the distance.
The ambulance pulled past us and parked a short distance away. The fire trucks had also been dispatched and Mac went to send them on their way. Charla arrived and walked down the road to where the flares began so she could direct traffic around the accident. Friday night could be pretty busy along Singapore Highway.
I recognized one of the EMTs from over the summer when I had discovered a shooting victim. I quickly stuffed all of those memories in a small compartment, but not before I had begun to tremble with the flood of adrenaline.
I watched the ambulance workers do their triage. Once they pronounced Lucan stable and had an IV running into his arm, they dosed him up with pain meds and got ready to move him into the ambulance. Mac came back and pulled me away from the activity taking place on the shoulder.
“You don’t want to watch when they do this,” he said, with an experienced tone.
I looked away but still heard Lucan cry out in pain as they slid him onto the gurney.
Mac put his arm around me. “I should follow them to the hospital; it sounds like a hit-and-run, or worse, and I’ll need to file a report.”
I nodded, but couldn’t make myself speak yet.
“Want me to drop you off at home?” His voice was gentle, but I knew his mind was already working on the case.
“No, I want to go with you. I want to be sure he’s okay.”
“It could be a long night.”
“That’s all right. The evening isn’t going the way I planned anyway.”
Mac’s mouth tilted up in a half smile, which was quickly replaced with his cop face.
We followed the ambulance back up the highway toward Grand Rapids, which had the only trauma center in the area.
32
The EMTs rushed Lucan through the ambulance entrance. A burly male nurse stepped in front of us to stop us from following. He silently pointed to the small sitting area and closed the doors.
I turned and surveyed the room. Plastic chairs littered the area, which was anchored by two couches with vinyl seats. The colors had once been bright and festive but had dulled after all the time spent in this purgatory of waiting. Mac and I sat in two of the least wobbly chairs and stared at the television screen playing reruns of Full House.
No further word had emanated from the sealed doorway when Diana appeared about half an hour later. I’d called her from the road to tell her about Lucan. I hadn’t expected her to drop everything and arrive in the ER. This confirmed my suspicions.
Her orange hair stood out from her head in wild springs and she looked like she’d been crying again. I didn’t know how much more stress she could take.
“Clyde, Mac!” She approached us, breathless. “Have you heard anything?”
Mac shook his head, and I stood up to hug her.
“They haven’t come back out yet,” I said. “He was conscious at the scene, and asked me to call you.”
She blushed and deflected my pointed stare with a question. “You said he was hit while running?”
I nodded. “Based on what he was wearing, I assume that’s what he was doing.”
“But who would hit a runner and then keep on driving?” She searched both our faces. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Mac sighed. I glanced at him and he shrugged and nodded.
“Lucan said the car hit him and then backed over him.”
Diana drew in breath quickly and pulled her jacket more tightly around herself.
“We don’t have a confirmation on that yet,” Mac said. But his tired tone implied that he believed it.
“Who would do that?”
I shook my head. I motioned for Diana to sit.
Mac stood and started pacing. “I’m going to go see what I can find out.”
He went down the hall to the nurses’ desk. I saw him straighten his back and square his shoulders as he approached the counter.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Diana said. She leaned forward and put her head in her hands.
I rubbed her shoulder. I was upset about Lucan, too, but obviously he and Diana had become closer than I thought.
Mac returned with a satisfied grimace on his face. “They’re going to send someone to talk to us.”
A few minutes later, a short, thin young woman wearing a white lab coat walked toward us down the hall. As she approached I tried to assess her age. Her dark hair escaped from the ponytail she had apparently put in many hours ago, freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, and even though she appeared tired, she had an energy that I envied. Definitely younger than me, she looked barely older than Seth.
“I’m Dr. Baker, the intern taking care of Mr. Reed,” she said as she approached. “Are you his family?”
We all glanced at one another and shook our heads. I didn’t think he had any family in the area.
“I’m Detective McKenzie. We found him after the accident and I’ll be investigating. We’re all his . . . friends.”
Not really true, but it worked for the doctor.
“He’s stable right now, but his right leg is broken in several places. He’ll need surgery tonight. We’re calling the surgical team in now.”
“Can we see him?” Diana’s voice cracked.
The doctor nodded. “Very briefly. He’s in a lot of pain.”
We followed her down the hall and into the brightly lit emergency room. Doctors and nurses rushed past on their way to various curtained cubicles. Dr. Baker led us to a spot at the far end of the room. “Mr. Reed, some friends are here to see you.” She whisked the fabric open for us.
Lucan was covered up to his neck in white. Tubes snaked toward the bed and disappeared under the blankets. His face was ashen under his bright red beard. He looked as if he didn’t recognize us at first and then his eyes rested on Diana and a hesitant smile formed.