by P. G. Forte
“Uh, yeah,” he answered, his eyes sliding away from her face. “You’ll let me know beforehand though, right? Before you do anything foolish.”
Foolish? A little late to start worrying about that.
Glenn’s gaze fell on the cards; his eyes widened. “You haven’t already started, have you?”
Scout felt mischief rise within her. “Nah, we’re just fooling around. Pick a card, Glenn. Let’s see what the future has in store for you.”
Celeste deftly folded the cards that had been on the table back into the deck, shuffled, and then spread them out. “Go ahead.” She smiled at Glenn.
Looking unexpectedly grim, Glenn extracted a card and laid it on the table.
“Hmm,” Celeste murmured thoughtfully. “The tower. Well, I’d say that means you’re due for a change of some sort. How exciting. Would you like me to give you a full reading?”
“No. I- I can’t. I, uh, don’t have time for it right now,” Glenn stammered.
“Oh, speaking of time!” Celeste jumped up suddenly. “I need to get back to work. Here.” She fished in her bag once more and produced a business card, which she handed to Glenn. “My home number is there as well. Call me if you change your mind. And Scout, I’m sure I’ll see you later. Take care of that dog!”
Scout stared moodily at Glenn. What was going on here? If she’d made a list of all the people in Oberon she did not want to spend every waking minute of her time with, Glenn Gilchrist would have been at the very top. And yet here they were again. She picked up her cup and drained it. Ooh, yuck. Cold coffee. Definitely time to cut and run.
“Hey, listen, Glenn,” she said as she got to her feet. “It was great seeing you, and all, but I really gotta get myself some more coffee. You know how it is, I bet. Up all night, it takes a lot to keep you going. So, I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll give you a call. Maybe in a few days.”
“Not so fast!” Glenn’s hand shot out and he grabbed her by the wrist. Scout heard the dog growl as she rose from under the table, her hackles raised.
“Uh, Glenn? I don’t know this dog all that well yet, but I get the feeling she really doesn’t like it when you grab me like this.” Neither do I. She half-hoped the dog would bite him.
Glenn smiled uneasily. “Don’t run off just yet. I’ll buy you some more coffee in a minute. We need to talk.”
“What about?”
He frowned. “About your roommate, for one thing. How well do you know her?”
Roommate. Huh. Not likely. “You mean Robyn? I hardly know her at all. Why?”
“Well, doesn’t it strike you as strange that Caroline would confide so much personal information to a complete stranger?”
Scout sighed. A lawyer. With a brain like Pooh. Unbelievable. “Think about it, Glenn. Just because I don’t know Robyn, it doesn’t mean she was a stranger to Caroline. You heard her – they shared the house for years. I don’t know about all these long talks they supposedly had, but I’m sure she talked to Caroline more often than I did. So sure, why not?”
“I don’t know. I still think I should look into it for you. You notice how she threw in that bit about being adopted? It might be interesting to see what I can find out about who her real parents were.”
Her real parents? It would take a social snob like Glenn to think something like that. The parents you picked, or who picked you, often seemed more real than the ones you were born to. “Whatever.” Scout shrugged his suggestions away. “Frankly, I don’t see what any of that has to do with finding Lisa. Besides, it’s really none of our business.”
“You never know. It can’t be any more farfetched than your idea to consult a psychic.” He frowned at her. “You weren’t really serious about that, were you?”
Scout took a deep breath and slowly sat back down. The dog moved closer to her side, still growling faintly. She pulled her hand from Glenn’s grip and patted the dog until she had quieted. She didn’t know what put the idea into her head. But all of a sudden, Glenn sounded like a man who knew something. Or was, maybe, afraid of something.
What could he know? “I’m looking for answers, Glenn. I’m serious about anything that could help me find some.”
He fixed his sad, wounded eyes on her face and shook his head sorrowfully. “It won’t work, you know. I think that wherever Lisa is, she doesn’t want to be found.”
The feeling that they were fencing in the dark grew stronger. “Doesn’t want to be found? Or can’t be found? There’s a big difference.”
“Is there?” Glenn muttered darkly. “I’m not so sure.”
Damn. He does know something. “Glenn, if there’s something you haven’t told me—”
He scowled at her. “Of course there isn’t. I’m just not sure your being here is a good idea, that’s all. Like I said the other night, I think you should leave town. Let me deal with the rest of it for you. All the legalities and stuff. It’s my job, Scout. I get paid to handle things like this. Anyway, I gotta go, too.” He rose to his feet abruptly. “Just think about it, okay? We can talk later.”
Oh, no, you don’t, buddy. Scout forced herself to smile. “Hey, what’s your rush? I thought you were buying me coffee?”
He turned back to her. Slowly. A cold smile curved his lips.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea, either. Why don’t you let me drive you back to town? We’ll get breakfast .” His eyes flickered rapidly over her as he spoke, as if he were sizing up the possibilities. Scout felt her breath catch. He couldn’t possibly be thinking what she hoped he wasn’t thinking. Could he?
Well. There was no way she was letting him get away without telling her what he knew. But there sure as hell were limits to the ways in which she was willing to pay for that information. Clearly, going anywhere with Glenn right now was not a good idea. Certainly not anywhere alone.
“Gee, that’s real nice of you Glenn. But I’d just as soon stay here, if you don’t mind. And coffee’s fine, really. I already had breakfast. Maybe some other time.”
He flushed angrily. For a moment, she thought he might try and argue her out of her position. Good luck.
Finally, he grimaced. “Right. Well, okay. Let’s get you some coffee, then.”
The sun was bright in Scout’s face as she left the dining pavilion. She could smell the heat rising from the bare earth of the fairgrounds. More heat radiated from the large pile of ash and charcoal – all that was left of the fire that had burned so merrily through the night.
At her side, Glenn fairly glowed, the sunlight behind him forming a weird halo around his head and shoulders as it cast his face into shadow. She noticed anew how aged he looked and felt a stab of pity for the young man she used to know. As beautiful as the morning, he had seemed back then. Bright and invulnerable.
She felt sorry for him. The thought surprised her. Feeling sorry for Glenn Gilchrist was not something she had ever thought would happen.
She supposed it wasn’t really his fault that she had always found him less than fascinating. But all the same, it was only after a prolonged struggle within herself that she was able to take his arm. And even lean against him just a little, as she guided him toward the one booth where she was sure to find, if not coffee, at least a cup of something that might wake her up; as well as the opportunity to give the rumor mills another spin.
“There you are.” Marsha hurried out of the booth, her face anxious. “At last. What’s happening? I’ve been having the strangest—” she broke off suddenly, her eyes widening as she recognized Glenn. “Jeez, I don’t believe it. What is this, some kind of time-warp?”
“Hey, Marsha,” Scout called in greeting. “Look who I picked up. We’d like some coffee, if you have it. Or tea, at least. We’ve been up all night and we’re just about dead on our feet.”
Marsha looked them up and down, her focus seeming to waver. Finally she smiled, and something in the glance she gave her made Scout wonder if she couldn’t see right through the charade.
“Well, you certain
ly look like you could do with some sleep, girl. But I think Glenn here still has energy to spare.” Marsha smiled at him cheerfully, and Glenn returned the smile, his face brightening suddenly into something resembling a boyish grin.
“Come on,” Marsha said. “Never mind the coffee. I’ve got something even better.”
* * *
“Marsha, I’m not so sure about this. What is this stuff anyway?” Scout sniffed suspiciously at the creamy foam that topped the drinks Marsha had ordered for them. The three of them were seated at one of the small tables that had been set up beneath an awning. The cushions that covered the bench seats were deep and soft and comfortable. The scents of herbs and incense filled the air, making Scout feel incredibly relaxed. Maybe a little too relaxed.
“Oh, but you have to have some, Scout. We make it special just for the holiday. You know, because milk has always been a traditional part of Midsummer celebrations. I suppose it has something to do with all those lactating cows and sheep they had around at that time of the year.”
Lactating cows and sheep? How incredibly appetizing. Scout took a small sip. It was creamy and sweet with an elusive flavor that might almost have been almond. “Better than coffee, huh?”
“Yep. This’ll fix you right up.” Marsha smiled encouragingly. “But come on, both of you. You want to drink it before it gets too cool.”
Scout watched as Glenn obediently took a large gulp. Marsha sipped her own drink more demurely. Her eyes, gleaming above the rim of her glass, held a look Scout was not sure she trusted. Still, what could it hurt? Mentally crossing her fingers, she took another drink. It was delicious, but the pleasant tingles it left in its wake did not exactly seem energizing.
“So, Glenn, I haven’t seen you in ages. What have you been up to?” Marsha asked, smiling, Scout couldn’t help thinking, a little too brightly.
Glenn flashed her another of those boyish grins he seemed to do so well. Why had she thought him so tired and aged-looking a few minutes ago? Scout wondered. He certainly didn’t look like that now. Maybe Marsha was on to something with these drinks, whatever they were. She took another sip. It really was good. Warm and... what was that flavor? Not cinnamon. Vanilla? No, that wasn’t it, either.
While she puzzled out her drink, she was only half-aware that Glenn and Marsha had gone from discussing Glenn’s law career to his houseboat in the marina and were now talking about the changes they had both observed in Oberon over the years. Glenn and Marsha sure seemed to have a lot to say to each other, all right. Glenn and Marsha appeared to be getting along famously, in fact.
Scout settled deeper into the cushions – bright, jewel-colored cushions, very much like the ones that used to be in Lisa’s room – and regarded them sourly. Glenn and Marsha seemed to have forgotten her very existence.
Things were not working out the way she wanted them to. Glenn was talking, all right, but not to her! And not about Lisa, either. She tried hard to think of a way to shift the conversation around to the subject, but she seemed to be having trouble organizing her thoughts in a coherent fashion.
And then, there didn’t seem to be much point to trying, because Glenn was leaving.
Scout stared in confusion. She had missed something, obviously, because she hadn’t found anything out, and Glenn was definitely leaving. She hurried into speech. “So Glenn, about breakfast—”
He looked, very briefly, nonplused. “Great idea, Scout,” he said when he recovered. Why don’t I call you? Sometime later this week, perhaps.”
Yeah, right. Scout watched him walk away; his steps unsteady, but a little too quick. Sure. You’ll call. And I’ll wait for that to happen. Judging from the expression on Marsha’s face, she was thinking the same thing.
Scout crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her. “I wasn’t exactly finished with him, you know.”
Marsha studied her thoughtfully. “Yeah, I kind of figured that out. Just what was it you weren’t finished doing?”
A reluctant smile crept across Scout’s face. “I don’t suppose I could make you believe I was fanning the fires of an old flame?”
Marsha looked away, a pained expression on her face. “Oh, you could probably make me believe just about anything you wanted to. But he can’t. Sorry. I’m not sure what he had on his mind this morning, but I don’t think it was romance.”
Scout sighed. “I think he knows something about Lisa.”
“What?” Marsha’s gaze swung back to her face. “What are you talking about? What could he know?”
“Well, that’s what I was trying to find out, before you ran him off,” Scout snapped in exasperation. She picked up her glass and drained it.
“Oops.” Marsha’s eyes were twinkling once again. “Well, gee, Scout, no worries. You can always try again, you know. When he calls.”
“Yeah, right. Like that’ll happen.” Scout shook her head wearily. “You got a real warped sense of humor, Marsha. Anyone ever tell you that?”
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* * * *
Chapter Nine
* * * *
It wasn’t working. Nick slammed his coffee mug down on the table. His usual Sunday morning routine of newspapers and coffee on the deck outside his apartment, was doing nothing to alleviate the angry confusion of emotions that had been building inside him since yesterday afternoon.
She was back. After all this time, she’d finally come back.
He couldn’t believe the way he felt. He couldn’t even put a name to what he felt – angry, bitter, nostalgic, more than a little crazy. Plus some other, inexpressible combination of hopeful sensations – part daydream, part memory – that he thought he’d buried long ago. Back when he’d finally made himself accept the painful truth: she was never coming back to him.
It had been so long since he’d seen her. Hell, it had been a long time since he’d even thought about her. Really thought about her, anyway. Thought about her in the kinds of ways that made sleep impossible and sent him speeding angrily up and down the coast for hours at a time. Thought about her in ways that made him drink too much or smoke too much. Not that he wouldn’t mind a cigarette right now, he thought, in the instant before he remembered that his daughter had made him quit. Again. Six months ago. Shit.
What was she doing here, anyway? And why now? Not that it mattered, of course. Now. Next week. Next year. He didn’t have the faintest clue what he’d say to her if he saw her.
What was he thinking? He wouldn’t say anything if he saw her. Why the hell should he? She was the one who’d left him, after all. So what if she’d been a minor at the time, with no say in the matter? She had gone away and, apparently, forgotten all about him. And he’d be damned if he’d give her the time of day now.
He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, anyway, come to think of it. Although she seemingly hadn’t changed so much that Lucy hadn’t known her.
Oh, hell. Lucy. Had she known about this? Is this what had her on edge the other night?
Well, shit. Of course it was.. And wasn’t it just like his cousin to try and hide something like this from him? How typical of her to jump to the conclusion that he’d even care.
So, she was back. Big deal. What the hell kind of idiot did Lucy take him for?
Okay, so it had taken him a little while to get over her. Years in fact. But he had done it, hadn’t he? Nobody could say that he hadn’t. He had moved on with his life. Hell, he’d even gotten married! Not like that had been an incredible improvement, relationship-wise.
You sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?
Yeah, Lucy’d got that right. That pretty much summed up his whole fucking love life, didn’t it? But no more. No way. Seeing her now was the last thing on his mind. The absolute. Very last. Thing.
She’s probably not even up there anymore, he thought, a few minutes later, as he stared out at the mountains.
Well, hell. No wonder he couldn’t stop thinking about her; sitting here with a perfect view of Mt. Totawka, and the foothills
where the festival would still be going on. He just needed to get off this deck, that was all. He just needed to find something else to do. Something else to focus on.
That shouldn’t be a problem. There were always plenty of things he could be doing on a day like this. He could always go to work, for one thing. Just because it was his day off, that didn’t mean he had to stay away. Or maybe he could go fishing. He hadn’t been fishing in months. Or else…he could go for a hike. Or out to a movie.
Or he could just stay here and wash his car.
His car really needed a wash. Hell, he could wax it, too, while he was at it. Maybe change the oil, clean the sparkplugs. And when was the last time he’d taken the time to really detail it?
But thinking of cars was not such a terrific idea, he realized a little too late, because so many of his memories of her included cars. That was how they met. She’d been hitching a ride one foggy April night. And he had stopped for her.
He picked up his paper and tried once more to read it, but put it down a moment later, when he realized that his mind was working up a ridiculous fantasy about seeing her again. Of coming across her trying to hitch a ride back from the festival. Maybe, if he drove up there right now... .
Jeez. What was he thinking? She wasn’t a teenager, anymore. Why would she be hitching a ride back from the fair?
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. He ground his teeth as his eyes strayed back to the mountain. It didn’t matter because he was not going up there again. He hardly ever went to any of the festivals, and he’d just been to this one yesterday.
There was no way he was going back up there again. No way in hell.
Actually, he was glad he had found out that she was back in town, but only so he could make damn certain he did not run into her by accident.
Which did not exactly explain the impulse that had caused him to back out of the camping trip, a small voice in his head reminded him. But really, that had nothing to do with her. He did have a lot of work to catch up on. And it made perfect sense to save a few of his vacation days for later in the summer, so he could take Kate somewhere.