Oak & Thorns

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Oak & Thorns Page 8

by Yasmine Galenorn


  “Just so long as you don’t get special brownie points for canoodling him,” Talia said, but it was obviously a joke. “So I’ll ride with Yutani?”

  “Sounds good.” He turned to me. “I assume Angel’s going to ride you?”

  I nodded. “Can’t break us up, dude.”

  “That leaves Viktor with me.” Herne shouldered his duffel bag, jerking his head toward the door. “Let’s get a move on. Traffic’s rough. I estimate a good ninety minutes to reach the ferry.”

  As we filed out of the office, Angel flipped off the lights and locked the elevator from stopping at our floor. It could be overridden in an emergency but only by the building owner or the police or fire department. We headed to our cars in the parking garage. As we split up, Herne and I managed a quick kiss.

  “Last night was incredible,” he said, rubbing his cheek against mine. “I hope we’ll manage some time for a walk on the beach while we’re there. We need a little time away together.”

  I nodded, kissing him again. Our relationship seemed to be moving from casual to more serious, but I wasn’t certain yet. I still couldn’t trust that this wouldn’t implode, but for the first time in a long while, I felt some hope. And even that brief spark of hope scared the hell out of me, because it meant I had something to lose.

  THE I-5 FREEWAY stretched from the Canadian border all the way down through California to Mexico. And our section of it was a madhouse at least twice a day. Technically, it was only about twenty-six miles from Seattle to Mukilteo where we would catch the ferry, but traffic was stop and go all the way. We landed right in the thick of the morning rush hour—or hours, rather—and the top speed was zooming along at a steady twenty-five miles per hour when the going was good. At spots, we were sitting in gridlock.

  “I’m glad I went to the bathroom before we left.” I squinted, pulling the visor down to shield me from the morning sun. We were sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, easing along at a speedy five miles an hour.

  “Me too.” Angel shaded her eyes, then fumbled through her purse for a pair of sunglasses. “So, how long do you think before we’ll hear about the house?”

  “I’m hoping sometime today. While we’re sitting here in traffic, why don’t you look up house inspectors? We want one who’s licensed, bonded, and approved by the state, I guess. I’d use the one who checked out my condo, except I think he moved to Oregon.”

  She paused, then said, “In the cold light of day, I have to admit that I’m a little more nervous than I thought I was. It’s a murder house. Even if there aren’t any ghosts, the energy is pretty thick.”

  “Getting cold feet?” I asked. “I didn’t have much time to talk about it with Herne last night, but I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to remove the residue gunk.”

  “And why is that?” Angel asked with a grin. “A little busy, were we?”

  “Oh, shut up.” I snorted. “It’s the first time in over a week that we’ve had a chance to play doctor. Give me a break.”

  Angel paused before she spoke. “You know I’m just jealous. Well, not jealous. Envious, I guess? It’s been a long time since I’ve met anybody I wanted to date. I haven’t had a chance to even think about dating since Mama J. died and I took in DJ. I’m not even sure I remember how to flirt.”

  I managed about three car lengths before we were stuck again. “What about Yutani? Or Viktor? They’re both gorgeous, and they’re nice.”

  “Yes, they are both gorgeous. And nice. That doesn’t mean I’m interested in dating either one. Neither is my type. And before you ask, Herne isn’t my type either. I like him but he kind of scares me. I’m not sure I know what I’m looking for.”

  I glanced at her. “You never have dated much, have you?”

  “There’s always been something else or somebody else that needed my help. I’ve never felt I had much time for it.” Angel shook her head. “I suppose I’d like to have a relationship at some point, but the past year I’ve been so focused on making a life for DJ and myself that I put all of that on the back burner.” She paused, looking out the window.

  “What about before DJ moved in? Even in college, you didn’t go out much.”

  “For so long I did everything I could to help Mama J. at the diner at night. And I had my own job during the day. Before that, I was focused on college and in high school…well, I just never met anybody who interested me long enough to warrant a second date.”

  I glanced at her. “I suppose the first thing is for you to figure out if you actually want a relationship. That doesn’t mean you can’t date in the meantime, but do you even want to?” I paused. “I don’t know what to think about Herne. I feel like we’re getting closer, and that scares the hell out of me in some ways. It was so much easier to go it alone. I wasn’t responsible for anybody else, I didn’t worry about other people—except you, of course. I had less to lose. I think I kind of miss that, though maybe that’s fear talking.”

  “Ember,” Angel said, her voice hesitant. “I think you’re searching for a reason to keep him at arm’s length.”

  I frowned, not liking the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that you’ve never let anybody new get close to you since your parents were killed. You built a wall around yourself. I was lucky—I was already inside that fortress. But you’ve found one reason after another to keep people out of your life. And now, that gorgeous hunk of god-spawn has cracked the gate and I think you’re terrified about what will happen if he sets up camp inside the barricades.”

  I pressed my lips together, staring at the road as traffic began to pick up.

  “Don’t be mad at me. I just think that you’ve got an idea in your head of what a relationship means, and you’re not seeing all the variations of what it can be. You’re not afraid of hurting Herne. You’re afraid of being hurt. I know you, girl.”

  “Why would I be afraid of being hurt? I’m the one who’s hurt my boyfriends. Or rather, my lifestyle has.” I really didn’t like the lines along which this conversation was running, but when Angel got a bug in her cap, she didn’t let up.

  “You’re afraid he’ll leave you, like your parents did. You’ve found one reason after another to keep people out. I think it’s all a defense against being abandoned.” She shrugged. “Take it for what it’s worth.”

  I stared at the road as I switched lanes, keeping pace with Yutani and Talia, who were in front of us. I wasn’t up for this conversation, especially this early in the day.

  “Want to change the subject?” she asked after a moment.

  “Yeah. I’m not ready for this much introspection at this time in the morning.”

  “Fine, but Ember, you’re going to have to face this at some point.” She shrugged. “How much farther?”

  Relieved by the change in subject—Angel could be annoyingly perceptive, and right now I wasn’t up for a trip through the landscape of my personal issues—I shook my head.

  “I’m not sure. Looks like we’re back to stop-and-go traffic.” I inched ahead a few feet, about one car length. “Can you check the traffic app to see how long this lasts? Is there a collision up ahead?”

  Angel consulted her tablet. “One, up ahead. And there’s also plenty of construction. Once we get past the accident, traffic picks up, although it still shows heavy yellow and orange all the way up to Mukilteo. Hopefully, we’ll be able to catch the eight-thirty ferry. If not, there’s another at nine o’clock. Let me check their alerts and see how far behind they’re running.”

  The ferry system that ran through Puget Sound and the San Juan islands was extensive, and intricate. But certain runs and certain times were constantly backlogged. Sometimes you had to sit through one or more sailings just to board.

  “Well, that’s a spot of good news. The backlog’s cleared up, so we should be able to make whichever ferry we arrive in time for. I haven’t been on the ferry in a while.” She paused, then glanced at me. “Have you ever met a hippo
campus before?”

  I blinked. “Well, we met Rhiannon. Why?”

  “I guess what I mean is have you dealt with them before? Have you ever worked with any of them? I’m feeling a little intimidated, given what Talia said. I just don’t want to make any stupid mistakes that will offend anybody.”

  I frowned, easing over into the right lane behind Yutani. I waited to answer until we had bypassed the collision. One of the cars looked to be totaled, and the firemen were spraying foam on the engine, which was shooting out flames. The other car appeared to be smashed up as well, but it was obvious who had hit whom. The HOV lane had been cordoned off for emergency vehicles, and an ambulance was speeding off, headed for the next exit into Everett.

  As soon as we passed the accident, traffic began to speed up, and we were able to navigate back over to the left lane. We were nearing the turnoff to Highway 526, toward Mukilteo. When we came to 40th Avenue, we would swing a right and follow it to the Mukilteo Speedway. From there, it was a straight shot to the ferry terminal.

  “Angel, I’ve never seen you make a ‘stupid mistake’ in your life. Why the sudden insecurity?”

  She shifted in her seat. “I don’t know. Everything’s suddenly so different. In my old job, I didn’t have to deal with customers much. I did what the boss wanted, and tried to keep my nose clean. He was a jackass, but it was routine and I knew what I was doing. There are so many factors to this job that I’m still getting used to them.”

  “Are you unhappy?” I glanced at her, worrying.

  “No, not at all. Don’t get me wrong. I love the job, but I sometimes worry that I’m in a little over my head. Like today, for example. I’m glad I get to go, but what do I do while I’m there? I’m not one of the investigators, and I’m not really one of the researchers. So I don’t know what purpose I’m serving.”

  I started to blow off her worry, but stopped myself. Fear was fear, unfounded or not.

  “You’ll coordinate everything for us while we’re there.” I paused, then asked, “Are you interested in being one of the investigators? Or doing research?”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t make a good investigator and I know it. I’m a little too chicken for that. Research, I love. So if they need me to help, I’m glad to. I just don’t want to feel like I’m sitting around, riding on anybody’s coattails.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. We rely on you to keep everything organized. Your talent for management has really shone through the past few months.”

  Both Herne and Yutani veered onto the exit ramp up ahead, and I followed suit.

  The highway was still tree-lined, but they were sparser and shorter, more like scrub brush. There was a lot of wind up here, and a number of the trees had bent trunks from being caught in the constant flow. Traffic was lighter, and we were going at a good clip, zipping past stores and strip malls. Finally, we were past Boeing and Paine Field, where we turned right onto 40th Avenue. It curved to the left into 78th Street, then to the right again, then one more bend and it turned into 76th Street. As we drove through the residential area, I thought it might be nice to live up here. There was a different feel about it—even though it was still relatively dense city, it felt more open, with room to breathe. Before long, the road curved onto Highway 525, and from there, we were only a short drive from the ferry terminal.

  Mukilteo was a small town of around twenty thousand. Located on Puget Sound, it was home to one of the Washington State ferry terminals. It was also home to a historical lighthouse, which was part of Lighthouse Park and Mukilteo Beach. Right next to the ferry terminal, the site was famous for being the place where a treaty was signed between Governor Stevens and the Native American chiefs from twenty-two Puget Sound tribes. Throughout its evolution, Mukilteo had been a fishing village, a lumber town, home to a cannery, and even the location of a gunpowder factory. Like most of the towns in northwestern Washington state, Mukilteo was heavily wooded, with large swaths of trees running through it.

  To the east, the town buttressed Everett, which in turn bumped up against farmland. To the west was Puget Sound. The Mukilteo ferry had one route, and that was over to Clinton on Whidbey Island. Halfway up the shoreline of Whidbey Island was the Keystone ferry landing, crossing over the sound to Port Townsend. And on the upper tip of Whidbey Island, a bridge led across Deception Pass into the Anacortes area. All and all, the entire area was incredibly beautiful, heavily wooded, and a marine wonderland.

  We arrived fifteen minutes before the next ferry was scheduled to load. As we pulled into the terminal and paid our fees at the tollbooth, I glanced at my watch. It was almost 8:40, so we’d be able to catch the nine o’clock ferry. As I pulled into the slip behind Yutani and Talia, I turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. Within minutes we were all gathered around Herne’s car, chatting.

  The wind was whipping at a fairly stiff rate, although the rain had died back with glimmers of sunlight breaking through the clouds. It was about sixty degrees, but the breeze made it feel cooler and I was glad I’d brought a jacket.

  “Once we get off the ferry, where do we go?” I asked.

  Angel consulted her map. “Take Highway 525 until we reach East Bush Point Road. Turn left and follow the road as it curves around the coastline. It will turn into Smugglers Cove Road. We follow that until we’re past the South Whidbey State Park. Before we reach Seacrest Cove, we’ll see a road to the right—Ruby Lane. That will take us right into the Foam Born Encampment. I’d estimate it’s about seventeen miles or so from where we get off the ferry.”

  “What about the hotel?” Herne turned to Angel. “Where’s that located?”

  “A few miles further north, in Seacrest Cove. The Edgewood Star is on Oceanside Drive, at the south end of the town. Check-in is at noon.” She brushed her hair back from her face and pulled out a tie, catching it back into a ponytail. I thought of doing the same myself, since the wind was whipping so hard that strands of hair were lashing across my face, but I didn’t want my ears to get cold.

  “How long does it take the ferry to get over to Whidbey Island?” Yutani asked.

  “It’s a twenty-minute crossing, so once we board, it will take us a little over half an hour to get there. I’m estimating that with a seventeen-mile drive and considering that these are winding roads, we should arrive at our destination at around ten o’clock. That should give us two hours before we can check in. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use something to eat,” Angel said. “I made a good breakfast but it seems to have vanished somewhere along that insane mess on the freeway.”

  “That idea’s fine with me,” Herne said. “Once we get over to Seacrest Cove, we’ll find a restaurant and eat. I suppose we can poke around the general area, check in at noon, and then go meet Rhiannon at the encampment. Sound good?”

  The rest of us nodded. Apparently we were all on the same page.

  I glanced at the other waiting cars. The ferry system in Washington State was heavily used, given how many people commuted from the various islands in Puget Sound to Seattle for work and shopping. I hadn’t been out on the islands much, although I had been over to Bainbridge a couple times.

  I realized that it felt like I had been trapped in the city most of my life. And it wasn’t as though I’d had to stay there. I just never got my ass in gear to go exploring. There was so much natural beauty in our area that limiting myself to the city seemed pathetic. I made up my mind that Angel and I would start adventuring around more. I would drag her out of the city, if I had to. Herne, too, if I could get him to come along.

  “Hey Viktor,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Sometime, will you take us up to Mount Rainier? I’m not saying that you should take us up to where you lived, I know how you feel about that. But you know the area up there and it would be nice to have a guide.”

  He looked surprised, but pleasantly so. “I’d love to give you a tour. Anybody who wants
to go is welcome. I like getting out in the mountains.”

  “I think somebody’s been bitten by the wanderlust bug,” Angel said with a laugh.

  Herne’s eyes sparkled as he caught mine. “I think we all needed this outing more than we thought. When we’re done with this case—hopefully we’ll be able to solve it—maybe we should spend an extra day here goofing around at the beach.”

  The terminal worker gave a signal as the ferry docked and cars began exiting. On that note, we prepared to board. The ferries that crossed Puget Sound were usually huge, two to three stories high, the largest holding close to 150 cars, and almost 1,900 passengers. The bigger ferries had elevators and snack bars, and felt a lot like a luxury yacht.

  Angel and I belted ourselves back in the car. I started the engine as the cars in our lane started to move, driving forward, following the directions of the terminal worker who was flagging us along. As we drove over the metal latchway that connected the ferry to the terminal, another worker motioned for us to turn to the right, driving up onto the second deck, where we parked next to the railing. We were on our way.

  Chapter 6

  ONCE AGAIN, I turned off the ignition and we got out of the car, walking over to the railing to look down at the water.

  Puget Sound was an inlet for the Pacific Ocean, coming off of the Straits of Juan de Fuca and the Salish Sea. The sound stretched well over a hundred miles, all the way down into the Olympia area. All along the stretch of water, tributaries and waterways branched off, and the sound was considered to be the third-largest estuary in the United States. The complex geology that went into creating the watery passage stretched as far back as the Ice Age, and considering that the entire edge of Washington sat on the Cascadia subduction zone, it was an extremely complicated marine environment. The beauty of the sound and its islands was unmatched.

  I leaned against the railing, shivering in the bracing air. But the saltwater scent of the sound pierced my senses, bracing me up. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath as the mammoth engines of the ferry started. A voice echoed over the loudspeaker, welcoming us aboard, and giving safety regulations and notifications. I listened vaguely, taking a moment to note where the lifejackets were stored. The ferries were usually quite safe, but now and then an accident occurred. Usually it was some car going off the end into the water, or a ferry hitting into one of the terminal landings and busting it to pieces.

 

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