by Sue Pethick
Of course he was, Stacy thought. How many popular Web sites featuring a local woman and her dying dog were there? Except that it wasn’t a hoax. She felt like calling up the paper and giving Nathan Koslow a piece of her mind.
Furious, Stacy shoved the paper aside, knocking over her coffee cup. Madison shrieked, and the two of them jumped, but it was too late. As the cup hit the ground, it spattered caramel-colored liquid over both of them.
“What did you do that for?” Madison wailed, trying to wipe away the rapidly spreading stain with her napkin. “These are my best pants.”
“I’m sorry, Maddy, I didn’t think.”
The two women dashed inside to see what they could do to salvage their clothing. Stacy’s pants legs had been doused, and warm, milky coffee was running into her shoes.
“Does she have any seltzer?” Madison screamed, tearing off a length of paper towels.
Stacy checked the pantry.
“It looks like I drank the last one,” she said. “See if regular cold water helps.”
As Madison administered first aid to her slacks, Stacy grabbed a sponge and ran back out to clean up the mess on the balcony. Lucky for her, she was wearing black pants that day. If she stayed behind her desk at work, maybe no one would notice. She sopped up as much of the spill as she could, and then brought everything back inside so she could reread Koslow’s column.
Madison was blotting the last of the water out of her pants.
“What Koslow said, it isn’t true, is it?”
“Of course not,” Stacy snapped. “Jennifer was completely torn up about Boomer’s diagnosis, and she’d never have taken a month off if he wasn’t really sick. She’s super dedicated to her job.”
She set the paper on the counter and smoothed out the wrinkles. She’d been so shocked when she read the part about Boomer’s Bucket List that she couldn’t remember exactly what it said.
Madison looked around. “I need to dry my pants. Is there a hair dryer?”
Stacy pointed absently. “Check the guest bath upstairs.”
On the second reading, the column didn’t seem quite so bad. Saying that there were rumors wasn’t the same as saying they were true, after all, and Koslow admitted that he was still investigating. Still, writing something like this was irresponsible without checking the facts first, and he couldn’t do that until he’d spoken to Jennifer. How did Koslow think he was going to find out the truth if he couldn’t even find her?
The Web site, of course. Jason’s stupid Where’s Boomer? contest had enough clues on it to lead Koslow straight to her. Well, maybe that was a good thing, she thought. Jennifer’s reputation was on the line. If clients thought she couldn’t be trusted, they’d go running like scared cats. The sooner Koslow found out the truth, the sooner the Trib could issue a retraction and apologize for their mistake. In the meantime, though, she had to give Jennifer a heads-up.
Stacy went to the foyer and grabbed her purse off the floor, pawing through its contents to find her phone. If Koslow was looking for her, Jennifer would need to be ready for him. The guy was like a shark; if he smelled blood in the water, it would be hard to come away from the encounter in one piece. She turned on the phone and started flipping through her contacts. Jennifer had said no calls unless it was an emergency, but she was pretty sure this qualified.
“Stace?” Madison was coming down the stairs. “People are staring at the house.”
“Hold on a sec. I’m trying to make a call.”
“No, I’m serious. Look.”
Stacy glanced out the window. Two women were standing at the end of Jennifer’s walkway, each holding a bunch of flowers as they looked uncertainly at the front door.
“They’re just leaving more flowers for Boomer,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure? They look kind of mad.”
She looked out again and saw a man walk by. The women stopped him and pointed at the town house. He nodded, spoke to them briefly, and continued down the street. The women stood there a moment longer, shaking their heads, then turned and left, taking their bouquets with them. Stacy licked her lips. Why hadn’t they left the flowers? This wasn’t about Koslow’s column, was it?
Madison walked down the stairs and crossed to the front door, keeping her eyes averted. She slipped her shoes on.
“I’d better go,” she said. She grabbed her purse. “I thought you were making a call.”
Stacy looked down at the phone, her finger hovering over the “call” button. What would she tell Jennifer when she asked how Koslow could find her? Would she be angry when she found out about Boomer’s Bucket List? If Stacy did call her, she’d probably come rushing back home, too. Stacy wouldn’t be able to come to the town house anymore, and Mr. Compton would expect her to be at her desk early again. There’d be no more breakfasts on the balcony or glasses of wine while she watched the sun go down.
There were supplies she’d have to replace, too, and some of them were pretty expensive. Jennifer might not be very happy if she found out that Stacy had been practically living in her house for the last few days, eating her food and pretending she was something other than the caretaker. She’d probably never trust her again.
“Um, hello?” Madison said. “Earth to Stacy. Are you going to make the call or what?”
Maybe she’d just wait awhile, she thought. There was no guarantee that Nathan Koslow would even find Jennifer, and if he did, well, Stacy would deal with that later. She turned the phone off.
“It wasn’t important,” she said, tucking it back into her purse. “I can do it later.”
CHAPTER 25
The storm had passed, but the damage it caused was everywhere, and the weather bureau was warning that more of the same was on the way. Roads were flooded—some of them washed out entirely—and the saturated, unstable ground was making travel through the mountains treacherous. As they got closer to the Arizona border, Jennifer was thankful that Nathan had agreed to join them. Knowing there was someone else to help out in case of an emergency was a big relief, even if things between them were still strained.
He hadn’t said much at breakfast, but she could hardly blame him. The way Jennifer had acted when they checked into the motel had been rude and immature. She’d passed a restless night in her room, angry with Nathan about the toy factory incident and angry with herself for blaming him. She was even angry with Boomer for forgetting himself and tearing so many of the squeaky toys apart. It was embarrassing to see him acting so savagely. He knew better than that.
Jennifer glanced over at Nathan, sitting quietly in the passenger’s seat, and felt her heart warm. He’d tried so hard to find something fun for them to do. Who knew that things could go wrong at a squeaky-toy factory, for heaven’s sake? It was silly to let this quarrel continue, she thought. If they were going to have a future together, there’d be other arguments; she didn’t want a pattern of letting things fester become a habit. Better to clear the air now and get it over with.
“I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about the toy factory,” she said. “It really was a good idea and I know Boomer enjoyed it.”
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” Nathan said. “I let things get out of hand.”
She smiled. “And I’m the one who begged you to think of something fun to do. Besides, it wasn’t your fault the bin turned over. If that stupid girl hadn’t launched herself over the edge, it would have been fine. Did you see her taking Boomer’s picture while the whole thing was going on? It was like she thought it was funny.”
Nathan frowned. “No, I didn’t see that.”
“I did, and it’s not the first time it’s happened, either. Remember those people at the fair with the little boy who kept making such a fuss about Boomer’s name? They were taking pictures, too.”
“So? People always take pictures of their kids.”
Jennifer sighed and studied the road ahead. She knew she hadn’t been seeing things. Ever since that desk clerk had taken
their picture back in Carthage, people seemed to be watching them. She didn’t expect Nathan to agree, necessarily, but it felt as if he was deliberately dismissing her concerns.
Give him time, she told herself. You were pretty awful to him last night.
“It still seems strange the way they did it, too,” she said. “Like they were trying to hide what they were doing.”
He shrugged. “Who knows? You can never tell what someone else is thinking.”
“I guess. Anyway, I shouldn’t have gotten so upset about what happened at the factory. I’m sorry.”
Nathan nodded and went back to staring out the window. It didn’t feel quite the same between them as it had before, Jennifer thought, but at least they were talking again.
They stopped in Gallup for lunch and ate at the Route 66 Drive-In where they stayed in the truck and had their lunch brought out to the car. Boomer sniffed his burger and made a halfhearted attempt to eat, but he left most of it in the basket. Jennifer watched him anxiously.
“He still doesn’t look good to me,” she said. “I’m glad we’re not having a fun day today.”
“Look, I said I was sorry,” Nathan snapped. “Can we just drop it?”
She drew back. “I didn’t say that to make you feel—” She pursed her lips. “Oh, forget it.”
They finished their lunch in silence and switched drivers. While Nathan adjusted his seat and mirrors, Jennifer gathered up the remains of Boomer’s hamburger and surreptitiously checked his gums. They looked a little pale to her, but she didn’t see any blue and she wasn’t about to ask Nathan for his opinion. She was trying not to be upset with him—it was obvious he was still upset about the night before—but it was hard not to feel that this attitude of his boded ill for their having a more permanent relationship. She’d just have to have faith that things would work out, Jennifer told herself. Nathan wasn’t like Vic. She might not know him well, but she knew that much.
*
Nathan felt his teeth clench as he drove down the highway. Everything—the road signs, the other cars, even the road itself—made him feel irritable. Why should life go on the same as always when his own life had been turned upside down? Julia wanted him to find out the truth about Boomer as soon as possible, and he still had no idea how he was going to do it. He could come right out and ask, he supposed. It would certainly save time, if it worked, but there was no guarantee that Jennifer would tell him the truth. If she’d been lying all along, what were the chances she’d suddenly drop the pretense and fess up? Trying to trick her into making an admission wouldn’t be easy, though. The longer things went on like this, the more likely it was that she’d figure out what was going on.
When Jennifer had shared Boomer’s diagnosis with him, Nathan thought that she was revealing a confidence; he felt honored that she’d trust him with something so personal. Now he wasn’t sure what to think. It was clear that she’d been reluctant to talk about it, but had it been because she was telling him a painful truth, or was Jennifer’s revelation meant to throw him off the scent of a potential scandal? She’d known by then who Nathan was. Maybe she figured that playing on his sympathies would make it less likely that he’d check into her story.
I should have known better.
Now that he’d been tipped off, however, his reporter’s instincts were starting to kick in. Suddenly, everything she’d said to him since they met had taken on a sinister meaning. Telling him she preferred his other pieces to the stuff he’d written for his column? False flattery, a way to throw him off her scent. And what about that comment the other night about his not knowing everything about her? Maybe she’d been telling him something important that he was too blind to see.
It was time to go back to basics. Was Jennifer’s trip just about driving business to her agency? If Boomer wasn’t really dying, why make such a blatant appeal to the public’s sympathy? The percentage of people following Boomer’s Bucket List who would ever be in the market for a PR firm’s services had to be miniscule. Surely there were better ways for Compton /Sellwood to increase their market share than by abusing people’s trust. If Julia was right and the whole thing was a hoax, the backlash when it was finally discovered was going to be intense.
On the other hand, a person like Jennifer didn’t just drop everything and take off across the country without a good reason. She held a key position at her agency; having her gone for even a short while would cause serious difficulties for them and their clients. He’d even looked up HCM and found that her description of Boomer’s alleged ailment was correct. It might be unlikely that he was suffering from it, but it wasn’t impossible, either. The problem, Nathan realized, wasn’t that her story couldn’t be true, it was that he wanted it to be true, and that made him less confident in his own judgment. If he was going to do this job, he needed to weigh the evidence like someone who was seeing it for the first time. If he couldn’t do that, then he might as well call Julia and have her give the story to someone else.
“I’m glad you’re not writing your column anymore,” Jennifer said.
The comment, coming out of left field as it did, struck Nathan like a blow. He flinched, jerking the wheel hard enough that the truck veered briefly onto the shoulder.
Jennifer grabbed her door handle.
“What was that? What happened?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I saw something in the road.”
She turned and looked through the back window.
“Are you sure? I don’t see anything.”
“It probably ran off,” Nathan said. “Don’t worry about it.”
She reached over and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Are you tired? You want me to drive?”
“No, I’m fine.” He shrugged his shoulder, and Jennifer removed her hand. “What made you say that?”
“Say what?”
“That you’re glad I’m not writing my column anymore.”
“Oh. I was just thinking that you should write a book, something about this trip, maybe. You’re a really good writer, but your column was always so nasty. It just didn’t seem like you.”
He hooted. “Write a book? Are you kidding?”
“Why not? Wouldn’t you like to?”
“Sure. Me and every other guy out there.”
“But you’re good, Nate. Why not use your talent to elevate the conversation?”
“You mean use my power for good, instead of evil?”
She scowled. “No. Give people something joyful and uplifting to read instead of making them and yourself cynical and unhappy.”
“That wasn’t part of my job description,” he said. “I’ll leave the joyful noise stuff to the saints.”
Jennifer shrugged and turned back to the window.
“Anyway,” she said. “I’m glad you’re not like I thought you were from reading your column. I don’t think I’d have liked you very much.”
It was the last thing either of them said until they got to their motel.
CHAPTER 26
Jennifer was signing the motel register when Nathan walked in with their luggage. As the door closed behind him, the acrid smell of ozone wafted into the small lobby. She wrinkled her nose.
“What is that?”
“Lightning,” the desk clerk said, handing her the key. “No more rain just yet, but there’s plenty on the way.”
They were staying in Holbrook that night, just west of Petrified Forest National Park. Jennifer was disappointed that they hadn’t been able to stop and take a look, but the road leading into the park had still been partially underwater, and with more rain expected soon, the rangers had advised them not to chance it. Between that and the lack of conversation coming from Nathan, the hours had dragged by. It wasn’t so much that it was a not a “fun” day that bothered her, it was that it had turned out to be exactly what Nathan had said it would be: boring.
Jennifer reached for her suitcase and looked over at Nathan. When she first stepped into the lobby, she’d been entertain
ing the idea of sharing a room, but he’d taken so long getting their things out of the truck that she’d decided to just continue with the way things were. His gaze met hers briefly and slid away in a gesture that could mean anything from guilt to resentment, and Jennifer felt a prick of annoyance. Was he still angry about last night, or was something else going on? She wished he’d just tell her so they could clear the air.
“I’ve got work to catch up on,” he said. “I’ll probably just eat in my room.”
So much for clearing the air.
“Yeah, we’ll probably do the same,” she said. “See you in the morning.”
Jennifer led Boomer down the hall toward their room. Thank God she hadn’t asked Nathan to join them, she thought, or she’d be regretting it now. If he wanted time to himself, he was welcome to it. After the silent treatment he’d been giving her all day, she wasn’t exactly dying to fall into bed with him.
Being cooped up in the truck had apparently taken its toll on Boomer, too. He seemed crankier than usual, impatiently scratching at the door when Jennifer didn’t open it fast enough. There hadn’t been much opportunity for him to walk around during their bathroom breaks, and Jennifer had no doubt that he’d picked up on the tense atmosphere in the truck, as well. When she finally shoved the door open, he dragged himself across the threshold and collapsed in a heap, not even bothering to get up on the bed.
Jennifer started putting her clothes away, keeping a close eye on her dog as she did. Was this was a normal reaction to a long day on the road or something more ominous? She wished she could ask Nathan what he thought, but he’d made it clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Anyway, she thought, he’d probably just tell her she was imagining things. She fished the novel she was reading out of her purse and lay down on the bed, reassured by the sound of her dog’s deep, unlabored breathing. It had just been a hard day, she told herself. Things were going to be all right.
Hours had passed by the time a gnawing ache in Jennifer’s stomach woke her. She opened her eyes and looked around the darkened room, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. At some point, Boomer must have roused himself; he was sleeping peacefully beside her. She set a gentle hand on his side and felt his heart beating. Was it faster than usual? she wondered. No, Dr. Samuels had said he still had a month left. It was probably just her overactive imagination.