by A J Rivers
I nodded, not knowing how to respond, and look down into my mug at the melting pool of whipped cream. As I’m staring into the swirl of white into the dark brown, a candy cane slides into my vision. It tips, dumping several miniature marshmallows down into my hot cocoa. My throat tightens.
“Thank you, Xavier.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Thirteen years ago…
First week of December
Monday: Opportunity fair 12-2PM. Visit 3 PM (Mom: Banquet). I made the mistake of lending my car to Lynn. I thought I had a ride, but, of course, he didn’t show. That’s not really true. He showed. I saw him. He just never gave me a ride. I ended up walking in the cold and Jeremy came out of nowhere. He’s still so angry. I don’t understand why. It wasn’t my fault. I just wish he would leave me alone.
Tuesday: Math final. I can’t believe he did that. I know I went up to him in the middle of campus to talk to him, but he acted as if I didn’t even exist. As if he didn’t even know who I was. It was humiliating. The thing is, I can handle that. I can handle being embarrassed. It’s having my heart broken that I can’t stand.
Wednesday: I got a note today that he wanted to see me in the room. When I got there, it was full of flowers and little drawings. He told me he knew what he did was wrong and apologized. He’s under so much stress. I wish we could just get away from here. That we didn’t have to do any of this anymore and could just go to the next step. He keeps saying we have to wait, but why?
Thursday: Final project due. Lunch with Emma. I saw Corey today. I…I don’t even know where to begin.
Friday: RETURN SCARF Visit at 3 PM (Mom: volunteering at hospital)
Saturday: Is this why we have the room? Where are the walls?
Sunday: Do I want to know?
Julia ran down the uneven bricks of the sidewalk and made a wide turn around the corner. Emma laughed from where she was standing in front of the restaurant. Her hood pulled up over her head with the brim of a thick wool hat visible under the edge, her arms wrapped around her and her hands covered in gloves, she looked warm and ready for the wait.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Julia said as she slowed to a stop next to Emma.
“You’re not,” Emma said.
Julia checked the time on her phone and nodded. “We were supposed to meet up thirty minutes ago.”
“According to your schedule,” Emma said. “But I’ve started telling you to meet me half an hour before I actually think you’ll be there. That way both of us are on time.”
She should be really offended by that, but she just thought it was brilliant. “Thank you,” Julia said.
They hugged and Emma made a sound that betrayed that while she looked bundled up and ready to face the tundra, she was feeling the chill.
“Let’s go inside,” she said. “I’m so hungry.”
“Me, too,” Julia nodded.
They sat down and each ordered a cup of coffee. Emma looked across the table at her. There was expectation in her eyes, and Julia wasn’t exactly sure why.
“So?” Emma asked.
“So, what?” Julia asked.
“How did it go? You were so worried about doing that shift at the Opportunity Fair. We went over that stuff a thousand times. Then you didn’t say anything about it,” Emma said.
“Oh,” Julia said. “It went really well. I think my professor was happy with it. I guess I’ll find out when final grades get published.”
“I wouldn’t be concerned about your grades if I were you. You had an amazing semester. The graduate school is going to be clamoring to get their hands on you, okay? You did get your application in, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Julia said. “I waited until the very last second, but I got it in.”
“Why did you wait?” Emma asked. “I thought you would be so excited to finally be applying for the program.”
“I am,” Julia said. The waitress came by with their coffee and they paused long enough for Julia to add cream and sugar and then both to take a couple of warming sips. “I guess I’m just really nervous.”
“About the application?” Emma frowned. “Why would you be nervous about that? You had that thing planned down to the very last detail. This is what you’ve been preparing for the whole time you were in college.”
“Well, not exactly,” Julia said.
“Graduate school,” Emma doubled down. “Whatever shape that takes. You’ve had your eye on graduating and then continuing your education. It was one of the first things we talked about. Remember?”
“I do,” Julia said, a slight smile coming to her lips as she remembered the first days of knowing Emma. “Of course, things are a little different for you now, too.”
Some of the smile on Emma’s lips faltered and the light faded in her eyes.
“Oh, Emma, I’m sorry,” Julia said. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Emma shook her head, closing her eyes as if it would help the words not sink in or the thoughts they brought up not to be as powerful. She held up a hand.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I know what you meant. And you’re right. Things are definitely different for me, too. But you should focus on being excited. The semester is going to be completely done in just a few days. All of your finals will be over, and then it’s one more semester before graduation. Then you get to move on to your graduate program.”
“I haven’t been accepted yet,” she pointed out.
“You will be,” Emma said, the smile coming back. “And when I follow in your footsteps to the next stage of higher education, we will advance to studying as the sophisticated graduate students do.”
Julia grinned around another sip of coffee. “How exactly is that?”
“I have no idea,” Emma laughed. “But we’ll figure it out.”
“By being surrounded by all those sophisticated graduate students?” she asked.
Emma shrugged. “I was going to say you’ll be my guinea pig and scope it all out before I head into the graduate program. But just watching the students in their natural habitat should work, too.”
Even though they didn’t talk about the situation directly, Julia felt so much better. Like a major part of her confidence had been restored. She reminded herself that this was what she was supposed to be doing. It didn’t matter what others thought or how they wanted to control her life. In the end, it was still hers. There might be rules she had to play along with, but she could structure whatever she wanted around them.
They had veered off the topic of school and were just chatting over their lunches when Julia caught sight of somebody across the restaurant. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt as if she couldn’t move. As if the steely eyes were holding her in place.
It was so strange to think of those eyes as being steely now. They never were before. They were the color of spring grass. There was once a time when they were all she wanted to look at.
“Julia?” Emma asks. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Julia said, shaking out of the stare.” There’s just somebody here I haven’t seen in a long time.”
“Who?” Emma asked, sounding curious. “A boyfriend?”
“Something like that,” she muttered.
“I take it from your tone it didn’t end particularly well?” Emma asked.
“That’s a really hard question to answer,” Julia said.
Before she could elaborate anymore, Corey crossed the restaurant and walked up to the table. She could see the color of his eyes now. She remembered everything about them.
She waited for him to say something. For him to explain why he was there at the restaurant or why he came to the table. Instead, he just looked at her. He didn’t even make a move to speak. He just looked at Julia for a few seconds, then walked away.
Emma gave her a questioning lift of one eyebrow and Julia let out a long breath.
“It’s really hard to explain, and I’d rather not get into it, if it’s all the same to you,” she said.
> “Of course,” Emma said, taking her friend’s hand in her own. “You’d let me know if anything was wrong, right? If something was bothering you or I could help you?”
Their eyes met.
“I would,” Julia said. “I always would.”
Chapter Thirty
Now
Everything seems so quiet in the house now that Dean, Xavier, Eric, and Bellamy have gone home. It’s back to being just Sam and me. Not a bad consolation prize for missing the others. If there’s one thing in this world I can never really get enough of, it’s time with Sam. We spent the last few evenings curled up on the couch in the dark, just watching the lights on the tree dance.
I love my time with him, and especially when he’s at the station or on a call, the silence can overstay its welcome. After all the noise and energy of having the other four in the house with us for almost a week, being completely alone feels like a reset. It’s an odd change of pace when I know I’m just going back to my regular daily life, but it’s almost disorienting.
Today, I just don’t feel like dealing with it. I want to be out in the world, maybe do a little bit of Christmas shopping. A message from Creagan this morning makes me suspect I’ll be assigned to another case soon, so I want to soak up these blissfully empty hours as much as possible.
Taking my purse, my keys, and my gun, I lock the door to the house and head to my car. I glance across the street towards Janet and Paul’s house like I always do anytime I’m leaving my house or coming home. I go over there at least once every other day to take in their mail, water their plants, and just in general make it look as if the house is being occupied rather than just sitting empty.
I brought Xavier along while he was at our house. He took his responsibility of making it look as if somebody was home across the street very seriously. If anyone was paying attention while we were inside, they would think a large family was using the bathroom in rapid sequence and possibly communicating with others through light-based Morse code.
Afterwards, I explained to Xavier that the point wasn’t just to run up and down to all the bathrooms in the house to flush the toilets and flicker all the lights in all the rooms. The house needed to look as if somebody was staying in it to deter criminals.
He promptly informed me visits like mine were all but useless in terms of deterrence. Of course, I know that. My security briefings from the Bureau might not always be the most applicable and effective when brought into the real world, but I’ve got the basics down.
Including the fact that criminals tend to pay close attention when they want to. They can be extremely careless once a crime has started and after it’s done, running around the crime scene spreading DNA willy-nilly, then posting pictures of their stolen goods or showing off their suddenly acquired wealth with elaborate displays of consumerism. Their attention span is all but lost in many situations as soon as the crime starts.
But ahead of time, they buckle down. They plan and prepare. And when they plan for a home robbery, preparation involves knowing the routines of the people in the house and watching the property for reliable patterns of inhabitants.
That means they notice that the house stays completely quiet and dark most of the time, then there’s suddenly a burst of lights more likely to cause a bout of ghost hysteria than it is to frighten would-be robbers. Consistency and continuity are critical to making these subterfuges effective. But fortunately, Janet and Paul aren’t overly concerned about a break-in.
For the most part, Sherwood is quiet, with very little crime. Making my presence known at the neighbors’ house is not so much about stopping a potential break in as it is discouraging petty vandalism or other minor things like the teenagers running around messing up cars. If they felt as if any second I could wander over to water a fern, they would be less likely to hang around.
I call Sam as I pull out of the driveway and start for the diner. He doesn’t answer, so I leave him a voicemail.
“Hey, honey. I just wanted to see if you had some time to get away for lunch. I’m heading up to the diner now. Meet me if you get this. Love you.”
I get to the diner and slip into our favorite booth. Pearl comes by and I grin at her.
“Hi,” I say. “I haven’t seen you around here in a while. I thought you were trying to ease yourself into retirement.”
The older woman scoffs and swipes her hand through the air dismissively. “That’s all just my grandson talking. What would I be doing with myself if I didn’t have this place? Am I supposed to sit around in a rocking chair and knit some socks? I would go out of my mind. But I have been taking a little bit of extra time off here and there to do some traveling.”
“That sounds nice,” I say.
“How about you? What’s this I hear about you and our Sheriff planning to get married?” she asks.
I nod. “That’s right.”
“Well, it certainly took you long enough. All of us have been waiting around since you showed up back here in town.” She looks at my hand. “Where’s your ring? Things aren’t already on the outs, are they? Now, honey, I know it might be tempting, but don’t use your future together as a weapon. You can’t just take your ring on and off to make a point.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not like that. I just don’t have a ring yet. It was kind of a spontaneous decision.”
I spare her the details and before she can ask anything else, she glances over toward the door.
“Well, would you look at that. Your knight in shining armor in the flesh. I’m going to get you two some coffee. Want to look at a menu?” she asks. “We have a couple of extra lunch specials today.”
“Yes, please,” I tell her.
“Hey there, Pearl,” Sam smiles as he approaches the table.
“Hi, Sheriff,” she says and heads for the kitchen.
Sam kisses me as I laugh and shake my head.
“What’s that all about?” he asks.
“Just Pearl being Pearl,” I comment. “It’s good to see that she’s gotten her sass back. I have to admit I was worried there for a little bit that she might never recover from that whole food poisoning situation.”
A couple of years ago, a woman decided to make my life hell and discredit me. She was reeling from her boyfriend still being in prison, where he was tossed after my first case with the Bureau. Her campaign of terror included gaslighting me by making me believe I’d not only had a neighbor move in across the street, but that I witnessed her murder. No one was hurt during that charade, but a college-aged girl died here at Pearl’s after being thrown purposely into anaphylactic shock by food laced with hazelnuts.
The entire incident was extremely hard on Pearl, who had to not only face public scrutiny and the possibility that the diner she loved would be shut down, but later her grandson’s unwitting involvement.
It’s good to see her recovering and going back to the woman I’ve always known. It helps as a reminder that time can move on. You don’t forget or pretend terrible things didn’t happen. But you’ve learned to pick them up and carry them with you as you move ahead.
“I ran into Henrietta,” Sam starts.
“You did?” I ask. “Where?”
“It seems you and I had the same idea,” he tells me. “I was actually on my way home when you called to tell me you were coming up to the diner. I was already almost at the house, so I stopped by for a minute and she came to the door. She gave me this for you. There was also a package, but I left that at the house.”
He pulls a blue envelope out of his pocket and hands it across the table to me. It looks very much like the red one I got before Thanksgiving. Another address label affixed to the front has my name and address, and another sticker sealing the envelope leaves a hint of glitter on my fingertips.
I open the envelope and pull out another card. This one is a plate of cookies and glass of milk. It makes my breath catch a little in my chest. Inside, the inscription is simpler, but more chilling.
“Better be ready. Almo
st time.”
The words are written in a less elaborate, but still affected handwriting, like someone trying to mimic a computer font.
There’s an empty space, and then where there should be a signature, another message, this one written in a more natural hand.
“Remember me”
I hand the card over to Sam and let out a breath. Pearl comes by and sets our coffee in front of us. She gives me a questioning look.
“You alright, honey?”
I force a smile and nod. “I’m fine. Just the Christmas season, you know. It can be stressful.”
“Don’t I know it. A tourist family came in here just yesterday. They were traveling and ended up passing through town, so they stopped by for breakfast. They complained because we don’t have something called snowman pancakes on the menu. Apparently, some big chain restaurant has them as a holiday special. Their little boy threw a royal fit over it and his parents were up in arms because we weren’t offering the same thing. You ever hear such nonsense? What can I get for you for lunch?”
She never brought us menus, but I order the first thing that comes to mind. Sam follows up with an order for a bacon cheeseburger and Pearl walks away.
“Remember me,” he says. “There’s no punctuation. Is it supposed to be ‘remember me?’, like the question? Or ‘remember me’ like the command?” He hesitates for a second. “Or the name.”
“What do you mean?”
“This feels like Catch Me. The taunts. The riddles.”
I shake my head. “No. Anson is in prison, and everyone in and out of Leviathan loyal to him and to Jonah are lying low. I don’t think they would risk getting weeded out and tossed in with their leader just to play some Christmas joke on me. This isn’t about that. This is about Julia.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Julia?” Sam asks. “Your friend from college? Emma, I thought we already talked about this. You looked into it and couldn’t find out anything. She was never declared missing. Her family didn’t even think something happened to her.”