Lila felt a stab of hurt pride watching Max. Was she so offensive to him that he would pass her by with barely a glance? She thought they'd almost become friends today, if you didn't count the Rocky Mountain oysters incident. But then again when she'd first met him he was abrasive and direct, then awkward and shy, and suddenly she couldn't imagine him being able to ask a woman his own age to dance. She wondered if he'd even dated since the divorce. Six months wasn't really that long.
As soon as the song ended Asher wriggled free of Leona and claimed Lila for a dance. The band played 'You Look so Good in Love'. She knew it because George Strait was Grandpa Isaac's favorite. Asher pulled her in close, and she breathed in the sharp, clean scent of his cologne. She rested her hand on his pale blue, perfectly-pressed dress shirt. This was the kind of man she'd always imagined herself with, especially back in Rock Springs, where she'd once gone out with a boy who had a mullet and thought gaming and offering beer from a plastic cup made for a good date.
Over Asher's shoulder, she watched Max spin Juniper, then dip her dramatically. She wouldn't have guessed him to be the dancing type. But what Max lacked in grace he made up for in enthusiasm. She was surprised to see him so uninhibited, and Juniper looked the happiest she'd ever seen her. When she realized she had been staring off with a stupid grin on her face, she pulled her eyes back to her dance partner.
Asher's brows were furrowed, and his mouth turned down slightly. Was he jealous? “Everything all right?” she asked.
“Of course.” He smiled before twirling her out and rolling her back in. Lila leaned into him and sighed. She spied Gladys taking her turn with Max for a dance. Max kept looking down at his feet, careful not to tread on Gladys's toes as she moved him quickly along. They were coming her way.
“Excuse me.” Gladys tugged Asher's arm. “I never got the chance to dance with Auburn's most eligible young lawyer, and Leona won't stop bragging.” She looked at Lila. “Switch me, dearie.”
Before Asher could reply, Gladys jerked him away, shoving Max in his place. Asher glanced at Lila, lips tight and eyes bulging, before being dragged off.
When Lila turned back to Max, her nose grazed his rough chin. Gladys hadn't left much breathing room. They both took a step back.
Max pushed his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “I'm sorry.” He held a hand out. “Mind if we—?”
“Oh, of course.”
She took Max's hand, and he slid the other around her waist, more confidently than Lila expected.
“I haven't done this in a really long time,” he said.
“Come on. They were practically fighting over you back there.”
He laughed. “Well, yeah . . . I guess so.”
Lila craned her neck to catch a glimpse of Gladys and and her dance partner. “I thought Gladys didn't like Asher.”
“She doesn't. But she likes you. I'm afraid that's what this is about.”
“Why?” The first sparklers, gripped in tiny hands, dripped tiny metallic stars around the dance floor. The air became soaked with the scent of sulfur as the brilliant wands drifted by.
“Well—maybe because you're so good to her, taking her to the grocery store, talking to her like she's a friend, not an inconvenience. Or because you're genuine with Juniper, like you really see her, not a kid who's lacking because she's not like everyone else.” His grip on her waist tightened as he spoke, pulling her closer. He smelled simple and clean, like soap. “Grandma's never been pushy like this before, though.”
“No.” Lila bit her bottom lip. “I mean why doesn't she care for Asher?”
“Oh.” He broke eye contact. “I don't know. She has opinions about everybody. She doesn't always have a concrete explanation. He did represent Erica with the divorce, though. It got kind of messy. And a person would have to be pretty thick not to notice Asher's interest in you. Obviously she's got other ideas.”
Lila's cheeks warmed. She knew Max wasn't interested in dating her. He was only doing this to make his grandma happy. And he wasn't really the kind of guy she was looking for. But he had a way of drawing her in without trying. He reminded her of Ada's lemon velvet cake, the sour and sweet coming together to form something tasty and comforting, but that still left a zing on your tongue.
Max stopped dancing, and looked at her as if he was waiting for something.
“What?” she asked.
“The music stopped.” He smirked. “But we can keep dancing if you want.”
She let go of his hand and forced a laugh. “I don't think Betsy Barker's had her turn yet, and I wouldn't want to be on her bad side.”
Chapter 14
Fireworks
Ada hung up the phone and turned to Lila, placing her hands on her cheeks.
“What is it, Ada?”
“It's Clint Edwards. He's missing.” Her voice was high pitched and shaky. “He was supposed to have an appointment with the Barkers yesterday. Eddie's having a disagreement with Lou Wilson about a lane between their properties. Those two will argue about anything. Anyway, Clint wasn't there. He never misses an appointment. He's not answering his phone, and his briefcase is still at the office. But his car is gone. It's all very strange. Not like him at all.” Ada gasped. “You don't suppose he had a mishap with fireworks? Last year this fellow was delivering fireworks in Bellevue. He was down and out, and they say his boss pushed him too far. He set those fireworks off with he, himself, still in the truck. I'll tell you, it was the best show those folks in Bellevue had ever seen.”
Lila stared at her, horrified. “Calm down, Ada. I doubt it's anything like that. But maybe we should organize a search” Lila's chest tightened as she remembered walking arm in arm with Clint on Independence Day, and the way his eyes sparkled as he laughed with her.
“I think that would be a good idea, Lila. Just let me get my purse and we'll walk to Gladys's. She'll want to come. Then we'll go down to Doug's and see what we can find out.”
Fifteen minutes later Lila sat in the back seat of Gladys's gold Cadillac. It seemed like the giant Caddy was moving at ten miles per hour, and her muscles tensed, as if she believed with enough effort she could push the car along faster. When they arrived, all the parking spaces on both sides of the street were taken. Ada grumbled a little when they pulled into a spot a block away from Doug's Diner.
Lila had never been into Doug's before. The sign out front was simple and bold, white with black lettering. The same feel continued inside, with chequered floor tiles and white table tops. The padded seats were kelly green, and there were splashes of red and yellow in the appliances and décor, but there was no cutesy fifties art or unnecessary clutter. There were several enlarged vintage photos of scenery and people, probably local, hanging on the wall.
The aromas of browned butter and maple syrup and coffee wafted around the restaurant. A man sat at a nearby table, his face creased with tension, shoveling a fork full of cheesy hash browns into his mouth. He paused a moment, his face melting into a brief smile of contentment before he opened his eyes and returned to the heated conversation with his companion.
Lila remembered the white paper boxes Doug had put the fried food in at the festival. She had a feeling he didn't need neon lights or jukeboxes or loud marketing to sell his food. Her grandpa had once told her 'the simpler the package, the better the product.' Come to think of it, the phrase could apply to a lot of things, or people, in life.
Clattering and sizzling and the occasional shout came from the kitchen. Doug thrust breakfast plates at a disheveled waitress as fast as he could go. He grinned and stopped to shout at Lila through the window. “You here for some more of my oysters?” Her stomach flipped as the memory of the disgusting food sliding down her throat returned, but seeing the open, lively expression on Doug's face, she couldn't help but smile back. “I'm off seafood, thanks.”
Gladys's eyes traveled around the room, then stopped at a small table. She jabbed a withered finger in the air. “There's Max. He'll know what to
do.”
She pushed through the crowd, Ada and Lila following in her wake. Lila heard fragments of conversations as they moved, people talking about when they'd last seen Clint and generally letting their imaginations run wild.
Plates of scrambled eggs and pancakes sat half-eaten on the table. Juniper's feet swung from a tall chair, inches from the floor. Her pancake had a smiley face, and she was poking at the blueberry eyes and making cries of distress. Max had one elbow on the table, the upturned hand supporting his head and his hair tangled around his fingers. His expressions as he watched his child ranged from concern to amusement.
Gladys ruffled Max's hair. “What's everyone sitting around for. We need to do something.”
Max shook his head and glanced up. “She likes to play with her food before she eats it, like a cat. Don't worry, it will be over before Pancake Man knows it.”
Ada knocked him with her purse. “This is serious. We've talked it over, and we think we should organize a search party for Clint.”
“I'm sure there's an explanation. Clint has matters he prefers to keep private. I agree it's a little strange, but let's at least wait to hear what the sheriff has to say.”
Juniper looked up. Her brown eyes squinted, but it was as if they were trying to focus inward rather than out. She popped the blueberry eyeballs into her mouth and wriggled off her seat. Without glancing back, she pushed through the crowd and toward the door.
“I'll be right back.” Max touched Gladys's shoulder before running after Juniper. Lila followed. By the time she made it out of the diner Juniper was half a block away, with Max working hard to keep up. He finally reached her and held her shoulders, crouching down to have a conversation eye to eye. They started down the sidewalk together, Juniper a step ahead, tugging at his hand.
“What's wrong?” Lila asked, joining them.
Max turned around, still tightly gripping his daughter's hand. “She says she can find Clint. I don't think there's any holding her back. I guess we're the search party.”
They walked another block and then turned right on Poplar street, which they followed about five blocks to the edge of town. Lila lagged behind, wishing she'd eaten less of Ada's good home cooking.
Max pulled Juniper's hand, trying to slow her down. “Junie, there's nothing out here. Just fields and a couple of houses down the road.”
She was still eager as a bloodhound, her eyes bright and determined. “Just a little farther. I promise.”
“What's that?” Lila pointed to the side of the road, where sunlight glinted off metal.
They rushed forward. The tailgate of a Ford Ranger came into view. “That's Clint's truck.” Max's face was pale as he pulled Juniper behind him.
Lila was tired and hot, but when she heard the panic in Max's voice her blood froze.
“Junie, you stay right here,” Max said firmly. Lila followed him to the truck. The branches scratched at their arms and legs as they worked to pull them away from the door. Lila grabbed the handle. For a second she didn't want to open it. The memory of finding Grandpa Isaac unresponsive on the sofa just a few months ago flooded through her, immobilizing her hands.
“I'll do it,” Max said.
She shook her head, then shoved one foot up beside the door for leverage and tugged at the handle. The door opened, branches screeching against metal. She climbed up.
Clint lay slumped over the steering wheel. He looked unreal to her, like plastic, and when she felt for his pulse he was cold. A heated pressure built up behind her eyes. It was too late to do anything. She turned away, helplessly staring at Max as he dialed the sheriff.
Lila stumbled down from the truck and across the street, where she slumped to the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled up her knees, pressing her forehead against them, hoping to force the picture of Clint from her mind. She tried opening her eyes, locking them on the road in front of her, but it was no good.
Max grabbed Juniper, who was about to take her opportunity to assess the situation herself. In the heat of the morning Lila rubbed at her arms, shivering. Max pulled his plaid shirt off, exposing a faded t-shirt, and wrapped it around Lila. The three of them waited silently on the side of the road.
The sheriff and a couple of officers arrived within five minutes. Someone must have caught on to what was happening, because it didn't take the rest of the town long to arrive. Cars and spectators flooded the country road as Clint was placed on a gurney, covered up and taken away.
Gladys and Ada arrived in the Cadillac, and Max sent Juniper home with them. “I imagine Sheriff Larson will want to speak to us,” he said. “Who knows how long we'll be here.”
Lila took a deep breath. More than anything she wanted to get out of here. She was so tired of dealing with death, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk about finding Clint in his pick-up. She couldn't stop thinking of how he died without anyone by his side, just like her grandpa.
“Are you up to it?” Max asked. “I might be able to get the sheriff to wait a while.”
“Whatever I need to do. Let's get it over with.” Max held onto her arm as they walked over to the sheriff.
Sheriff Larson was pointing at the truck with a wrinkled skinny arm, giving out the last orders and overseeing the clean-up. When they approached, he turned and looked at them with droopy eyes. “Thanks for hanging around, you two. I'd like to jot down your story, just in case it helps.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff. Juniper insisted we go looking for Clint, and we just happened to end up here,” Max said.
“That's mighty lucky, wouldn't you say?”
Max shrugged. “We saw the truck sticking out of the bushes and found Clint inside. Lila looked him over. It didn't take long to realize we were too late.”
Sheriff Larson turned his attention to Lila. “Lila—?”
“Moore,” she said.
“Oh, right. You're Nick's girl, Isaac's granddaughter?”
“That's right.”
“I knew Isaac real well. Sorry to hear about his passing.” The sheriff's voice was like fine-grit sandpaper.
Lila nodded and looked down, noticing how the paint had chipped off her toenails.
“You, ah, certified or something, for things like this?”
“Yes. I had to be. I was the primary caretaker for Grandpa, and he wasn't well.”
He nodded and wrote something on his pad.
“Well, that's all I need from you two right now, I guess.”
“Frank, before we go, is there anything you can tell us?” Max asked.
“Well, you know I can't say much right now. Between you and me I do know that Clint went through chemotherapy a while back. He didn't tell everyone about it, and stayed away from town during the worst parts. From what I hear that can be hard on the heart. And of course that's Barker's lane just up there, whether Lou likes it or not. I know Clint had an appointment with Eddie today, so maybe he had to come out and take a look at things last night or early this morning, had a heart attack or something. 'Course the coroner will let us know if something don't look right.”
Lila's eyes widened. “You don't think someone did this to him?”
“No, 'course not.” Sheriff Larson spoke softly. “I can't say Clint didn't step on any toes, but he was well-liked around here. They examine things closely at the coroner's, though. They'll probably do an autopsy, since no one was around at the time of passing.”
The thought sent a chill through Lila.
Sheriff Larson exhaled loudly and surveyed the area. “Hey, I don't see your truck here. You need a ride home?”
Lila stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Max glanced at her, and the concern in his eyes made her wonder if she wasn't holding up as well as she thought she was.
“I think that would be good,” he said. “Thanks.”
Max ushered Lila into the backseat of the sheriff's car. “You can drop us both off at the diner. My truck's parked there.”
“Sure thing.”
; It only took a couple of minutes to drive back to the diner, even at the sheriff's slow pace. They waved him off and Max thanked him again.
“Could you take me to Grandpa's house?” Lila asked. “I could use some time to myself.”
“Yeah. But I'd better get you something to eat first.”
“I couldn't eat anything right now.” Aside from the queasiness in her stomach, Lila felt like she was about to explode into a show of emotions that would rival that poor truck driver in Belleview.
Max came back a minute later and handed Lila a white paper bag.
“I said I'm not hungry.”
“Do you have any food in that old house? You'll have to eat sometime.”
She sighed and took the bag. Max held the truck door open for her and went around to the driver's seat. He switched the radio off and they drove in silence.
When they stopped in front of the house Lila dug into her purse for the key. She pulled it out, and it slipped out of her hand onto the floor. She reached down and searched for it, then tossed her head back and threw her hands up in frustration. She'd hoped to hold back the tears until she was inside. It was too late.
She wiped her eyes. “I hardly knew him. This probably seems ridiculous to you.”
“Are you kidding me? We just found a dead man? I'd think something was wrong with you if you weren't upset.”
“It's just—he was one of the people who really knew my grandfather. He knew a side of him that I didn't, and that's lost now.”
“Ada might know some of that stuff.”
“Ada can hardly talk about him, for reasons I may never know. I don't expect you to fix this, I just wanted to explain. And it's not just that. The whole thing was a reminder of the day I found him, and I was too late to help him too. This all sounds so selfish.” She reached down again, and this time her fingers brushed the cool metal key. She grabbed it and squeezed it in her palm, letting the teeth bite into her skin. “I think Clint was a good man. I barely knew him but I liked him. And he died alone.” She swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears back.
The Obituary Society Page 9