by Laney Monday
I laughed. That was pretty much the truth.
Will and I sat out the next round, watching his students. I quietly pointed out the strengths and weaknesses of some of them to Will, so he could work on them later.
We watched as Walter rolled his partner, sliding his forearm under his chin and gripping his own shoulder to choke him. It was a little rough, but nothing like the disaster I’d witnessed the first time I came to the PAL for practice. Walter Random was a nice guy, but he had no natural finesse. I’d taught a simple choke I’d shown to countless groups of all skill levels, and he’d almost crushed his partner’s windpipe.
“Looks like Walter’s doing a lot better,” I said.
“Yeah, he is. He’s still a little slower of a learner than the others, but he’s getting the hang of it.”
“Not so dangerous?”
“I can watch him without cringing now, yes. Did you know his grandfather’s entering the race?” Will said.
“For Mayor?”
“That’s right. Herbert Random Senior is in the running. Walter just told me he’s making an official announcement tomorrow.”
Mr. Random was one of the council members pushing for an exemption for Harvey. From what I’d seen, he was a good, compassionate man. But, dynamic? Charismatic? Nope. The man could be mind-numbingly boring. Boring beat stupid and crooked in my book, but what chance did a dry, honest man have in Bonney Bay’s election?
“Harvey likes him. Did I tell you he wants me to save his front walk? And of course, his roses.”
Will made a skeptical face.
“What’s the matter, Will? You don’t think I have superpowers?”
Will surreptitiously slipped his arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze. “Only over me.”
I frowned and pulled away. He knew I didn’t like to mix romance and mat time. There was a reason I’d always had a No Dating Judo Guys policy. Will shook his head at me. I ignored him and changed the subject.
“I just don’t understand why they’re so stuck on widening that spot of sidewalk. I mean, all these years, they didn’t know it belonged to the city. And the city did just fine without it. And after everything Harvey’s been through lately, where’s the compassion? His niece and all his friends try to get Harvey on the road to relative sanity, and the Town Council decides to do something just to make him crazy.”
“Maybe you can hold them off until we get a new mayor. Someone who’ll listen to reason.”
“Someone who’s not Gunter Hatton.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about Gunter. He always says the right things, but…”
“Aside from his stance on Harvey’s property, it’s hard to forget how he obsessed over Millie.”
Millie’s mysterious death had brought to light Gunter Hatton’s infatuation with her, a married woman.
“He seems like a scandal waiting to happen, and this isn’t Washington D.C.”
“It would be nice if a little town like Bonney Bay, at least, didn’t have to worry about dirty politicians, scandals…”
The timer Will had set on his phone dinged. It was time for the next round. We both rotated in with new partners. I tried to lose myself in the fun and exertion of judo and forget about our problems. I was here, doing what I loved, with the man I loved. And whatever worries we had, at least, for once, they had nothing to do with murder.
I peeled off my sweaty gi and folded it. Will looped his belt around his neck and took a long drink from his water bottle. He leaned in close, and I could feel the heat radiating from him. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go out. Ice cream?”
He was breathless, a little shaky from the workout. He looked great.
“How can I say no to ice cream?”
We’d finished off practice with eight straight rounds of standing randori—sparring with throws. Most of the guys were drooping and staggering. I’d made them push themselves hard. I felt fantastic. Definitely too amped up to just go home, shower, and tuck myself in.
I picked up my phone to message Blythe, and saw that I had a new text:
Brenna, it’s Jake. Please call me.
I nearly hulk-crushed the phone, I was squeezing it so hard. I took a deep breath and relaxed my grip. I’d worked really hard on not constantly wanting to hurt Jake. Now that I had Will, I hardly thought about him. Yet seeing his name, seeing that message from him, I felt an unwelcome wave of that strange power he used to have over me. I shuddered. It felt like something that needed washing off.
“A quick shower, and I’ll meet you at Shaw’s in half an hour?” Will was saying.
Shaw’s was Bonney Bay’s old-fashioned soda fountain. They made shakes and sundaes to die for. But I was only half listening. Earlier today, I’d gotten several calls from an unknown number. I didn’t answer, and they didn’t leave a message. I checked, and confirmed it was the same number. I’d blocked Jake’s number for a reason, and now he was texting me from a new one. Why? It was so tempting to text back and ask. What if it was something about an old judo friend? What if someone was sick or in trouble?
Then someone else would tell me. Jake would ask someone else to contact me, if that’s what it took. But for some reason, Jake wanted to talk to me himself. And the day that happened would be the day I gave up my most loyal friends, caffeine and sugar, and started eating nothing but hummus and blueberry-kale smoothies. In other words, never.
But not knowing was killing me. What on Earth did Jake want?
“Brenna? Is something wrong?” Will nodded at my phone.
“No, just…just annoying.” Jake had been a knife in my wounds after my Olympic disaster, and now he was a pin, pricking my happy bubble. Dang it, when had I ever had a happy bubble like this?
Will gave me a puzzled look, but I didn’t give him any more information. Jake and Will—they didn’t belong in the same world, let alone in the same conversation.
3
Bonney Bay, Washington, One Month Later
Blythe and I headed down the hill to Brightside Beach on foot, mesh bags stuffed with towels and sunblock slung over our shoulders. It was a bit of a trek. The paid parking lot at the beach was free to residents, but it was tiny, and we figured it was best to leave the spots for paying visitors to Bonney Bay and those residents who really couldn’t make the walk. The narrow strip of beach was positioned in a curve along the bottom of a steep hill, just to the other side of the railroad tracks that ran along the coast, so there was no street parking down there.
Just up a slight hill, about six feet above the blend of sand, pebbles, and broken shells that made up the natural beach, a swath of bright green, manicured lawn carpeted the park. Just inside the park entrance, a couple of volleyball nets were spread across beds of non-native, perfect sand. An intense game of beach volleyball was already underway. Mostly Bonney Bay PD versus the Fire Department, it looked like. I sighed, imagining Officer Will Riggins playing. But Will’s shift wasn’t over yet. I smiled to myself, remembering when I’d first met Will. I’d pegged him for a self-absorbed jock, the kind who worked on his bod just to show it off on the beach volleyball court. I hadn’t really thought Bonney Bay would have beach volleyball courts, or that I’d fall in love with Will and look forward to watching him play.
Walter Random dove for the ball and missed, plowing through the sand.
“Nice one, Walter,” Officer Tony Pfeiffer sneered. Tony’s tank top hung unflatteringly on his skinny frame, billowing like a flag on a pole.
It wasn’t a friendly jab, and I really wanted to jab Tony. Blythe caught my arm. “Let the guys deal with it, Brenna.”
She was right. It probably wouldn’t help Walter if I acted like his mommy, coming to his rescue. Tony Pfeiffer seemed to exist only to be a thorn in my side, ever since the day I stormed into the Bonney Bay Police Department after they’d arrested my sister for murder—with my underwear sticking out of my pant leg. It’s a long story. One I found much less amusing than Pfeiffer did. And apparently he enjoyed messing with Walter, too.
The smoky scent of salmon filled the air. Huge grills were lined up in the picnic area, where hot coals glowed under racks and racks of salmon fillets. David Marillo, a history buff and the owner of Bonney Bay’s only gas station, the Fill-Up, stood there in his great, big apron, basting them with a large paint brush.
Nearby, hotdogs roasted for those crazy non-salmon-eaters. I piled my plate with salmon, corn on the cob, three bean salad, and extra buttery garlic bread. With her own plate much more reasonably filled, Blythe headed for a table with a couple of empty seats. I followed. It just so happened that those empty seats were right across from two twenty-something guys.
I knew right away which one of them was the draw for my guy-crazy sister. I could’ve guessed it even if her “hello” didn’t speak volumes on his state of cuteness.
The cute guy set down his corn on the cob and returned her hello with the enthusiasm Blythe tended to inspire in anyone who met her for the first time. He was handsome, in a strawberry-blond, freckled way. His straight hair was cut short and his beard, a deeper red, was neatly trimmed.
He wiped his hands on his napkin and shook both of our hands. “I’m Luke Baldwin.”
We introduced ourselves. The guy sitting next to him, right across from me, stuck another bite of baked beans in his mouth and mumbled, “Hey. Zack Hermiston.”
Such is my lot in life. Was my lot, anyway. Now I had Will. I was still trying to figure out how I’d managed that one.
“I don’t think I’ve seen either of you around.” Blythe graciously included both of them in her question.
Luke said, “We actually just met. I’m new in town. I just got here yesterday.”
“You did? You are? I’m new in town, too. I just moved to Bonney Bay a few months ago. You’re going to love it. This town really grows on you.”
I waited for him to make a smart, flirtatious comment. The kind of predatory banter Blythe often got from men she’d just met. Something like, This town’s not the only thing that’s growing on me. Or—with raised eyebrows, perhaps followed by a wink—I can see there’s a lot to love here.
But he just said, “Really? Where did you move here from?”
As he and Blythe exchanged small-talk, I focused on my dinner. I didn’t want to smother my sister, and this Luke guy didn’t really seem shark-like—yet. Maybe it was just a matter of time. Or maybe he wasn’t really interested. When was the last time Blythe attracted a man who wasn’t a shark? But when had I ever attracted a guy who wasn’t a creep? Until Will. Lightning doesn’t strike twice, my cynical side said. Especially not twice in just a few months. Nope, chances were this Luke guy was just a little more clever, a little more cool, than the typical guy.
I discreetly checked my phone for the time, and for a text from Will. He wouldn’t be off work for another fifteen minutes, and then he had to change and meet us here.
“So, Zack, are you new in town, too?” I asked the guy sitting across from me. I didn’t think I’d seen him before either.
“No, I grew up here.”
“He’s at Coastal University now,” a young woman sitting next to him said.
Funny, I didn’t think the two of them were sitting together. Nothing about their body language had given me the impression they knew each other at all.
“I’m Zack’s sister, Delaney, and you’re Brenna Battle.”
“Right. Nice to meet you, Delaney.” I’d gotten used to just about everyone in town being able to match my face to my name. Not only was Bonney Bay a small town, but Blythe and I had managed to make the news a few times since our arrival. And Bonney Bay had seldom made the news. Until the arrival of the Battle sisters, that is. The whole town had taken note and followed every story.
Zack said, “My parents wanted me to come. It’s a tradition. I don’t think I’ve ever missed a salmon bake.”
“So, you’re a student at CU? What are you studying?”
“Don’t ask him that.” Delaney made a face and a slashing motion across her throat, and Zack turned red and glared at her. “He’s on his sixth year this fall. Still no major, right, Zack?”
“Lots of people take their time to find their path.” Zack stuck his nose up in the air a bit when he said that.
Really? Getting self-righteous about indecisiveness? Which was worse to endure, I wondered—having a goal and determination, and then having to face everyone with the failure to achieve it, or having no direction or ambition? I knew how it was to feel like I was disappointing everyone who cared one whit about me. Not fun. Not fun at all. Just one of the perks of aiming high, I guess.
“Really? Like who?” Delaney challenged him.
“I know a lot of people,” Zack said.
Delaney smirked. “Maybe that’s the problem. All your friends are slackers, too.”
Zack glared at her, got up, and left the table. I tried to signal to Blythe that it was time to find another group to hang out with, but she was already getting up with Zack, being introduced to some of his friends. One of them, I was pretty sure, was the pastor of the big, white church on Bonney Bay’s main drag.
Delaney turned to me. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just past the ‘understanding’ point with Zack. He isn’t really trying to find a direction anymore, he’s scared to actually get a degree and graduate and have to function in the real world. He’s been in college so long, that’s all he knows.”
I’d never been to college. I’d made the decision to postpone it so I could train and compete while my body was still young. I guess you could say the life of an athlete was all I knew, until a few months ago. Moving away had made it a little easier to start over. But not having any goals or direction—I had a hard time understanding that part of Zack’s dilemma. It seemed to me that would be pretty rough, but it was hard to really imagine. Setting goals was what I did. I’d dreamed a new dream for myself when I knew I’d gone down in flames pursuing Olympic glory.
“He doesn’t work or anything?”
“Nope. And you can bet he wouldn’t have ended up at this point if he were paying those tuition bills himself. He even lives on campus. Can you believe that? Because who wants to have to answer to Mom and Dad and drive half an hour to class? Or get his own apartment off campus, even. That would require some initiative, dealing with a landlord, you know, grown-up stuff!”
Well, weren’t we all just one big, happy family here? How did I end up in the middle of this? At least it reminded me to be thankful for my sister. My sister, who was so busy chatting with a cute new guy and his friends, she didn’t notice me suffering through this drama.
“Don’t worry about Zack,” Delaney said, totally misinterpreting the look on my face.
I wasn’t really worried about Zack. I was feeling sorry for myself, dang it.
“He probably went off to find Mom and Dad or Grandma and whine about how mean I am. Oh! There’s Grandma now. I’ll introduce you.”
Before I could make my excuses and get out of there, Delaney was on her feet, gesturing for me to follow her toward an elderly woman who was standing in the shade, looking elegant and refined.
“Grandma! Look who I just met. Brenna Battle.”
Grandma hugged Delaney lightly, then smiled at me. Her white hair, still thick and full, was stylishly cut. Her powdery pink blazer was paired with a navy skirt, bringing out the pale rose of her cheeks and giving her a look somewhere between soft and ethereal, and classy, no-nonsense.
“Brenna Battle! I’m Dina Hermiston.” She extended a hand. “How wonderful to finally meet you, dear. My friend Gunter Hatton told me all about what you girls did for him. You ladies are so strong and adventurous these days. Oh, my. It does make me want to be young again.”
I couldn’t help wondering if Gunter Hatton did her hair. In addition to being a successful sculptor, he was the owner of Bonney Bay’s original, historic barber shop.
“Brenna just met Zack,” Delaney told Dina. Then she turned to me. “I’ll bet you could teach him a thing or two about g
oal-setting. Someone has to!”
“That’s enough, Delaney. This is a picnic. A fun time.”
I caught Blythe’s eye and gave her a desperate look. Please! Rescue me from these people! She got up from the table and hurried over. Finally!
But right after her came Jessie Pakowski, with a big, sappy smile. “Hi, Brenna. Hello, Blythe. Looks like you didn’t get a flyer yet. Here!”
She thrust sheets of paper into our hands. They bore an image of a smiling Jessie, encircled by computer-generated flowers and swirls, instead of surrounded by her family. I guess she couldn’t get the boys to stop trying to kill each other and look like a perfect family for her photo.
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Hermiston said to Jessie. But her smile was tight.
I put on a dazed smile and read the bright purple heading aloud. “Feel Better about Bonney Bay!”
All around me, people took her flyers, read her slogan, and smiled. I nudged my sister. “Can you believe that?”
“I guess it doesn’t occur to people to ask what she’s going to do to make Bonney Bay a place to feel better about,” Blythe said quietly.
“Good point!” Gunter Hatton smiled over Blythe’s shoulder.
We both jumped. Where had he come from? I swear, that guy could really be creepy sometimes. He was handsome in an older man sort of way, well-mannered and smooth, but not an obvious flatterer. No, Hatton’s weirdness was pretty subtle. It was the kind of thing you forgot about, until he did something like hover over your shoulder and listen to your conversation.
“You know what gets me?” Gunter turned his volume up.
People lowered their flyers and turned toward us.
“Even with everything that’s happened, people still felt good about Bonney Bay. Bonney-Bay-ans love this town. Every death mattered. We feel bad about each one. But that doesn’t mean we have to start feeling bad about our town. Mrs. Pakowski here,”—he pointed at Jessie, who stood open-mouthed, a few yards away—,“wants you to feel bad about Bonney Bay.”