“Of course,” Michelle said frostily.
Emily snorted and shifted the car into drive. Back at the motel, she was pleased to see Lana’s Jeep in the spot in front of the room, and she parked beside it. Inside, they discovered Lana curled up on the bed, her coat thrown over her, slumbering peacefully. Emily put her hand on Michelle’s arm and squeezed firmly.
“Let her sleep,” she said in a low voice. “You can do what you have to do in my room.” She handed her the card key. “Unit five.”
Michelle nodded and quietly gathered up the bags by the bed, as well as the letter from the dresser, putting it carefully back into the box. After she’d softly closed the door behind her, Emily found a blanket in the closet and replaced Lana’s coat with it, lingering a moment as she looked down at the sleeping woman.
She’s just so lovely, Emily thought, a sort of helplessness along with the tender feelings seeping through her. I’m in such trouble.
Delicately, she brushed a lock of dark hair away from Lana’s brows, her long lashes casting soft shadows over the smooth cheeks, and it was all Emily could do not to lean down and kiss her. But as exhausted as Lana seemed, she might wake up at that, and besides, it was unseemly for Emily to be mooning over her like some sort of combination teenager/stalker. Making sure the blanket was securely tucked around Lana’s shoulders, Emily tossed one last, yearning look at her and left the room, making sure the door was locked behind her.
In her room, she discovered plastic, Styrofoam, twist ties, and unpacked boxes scattered over the two queen-sized beds, the floor, and the armchairs by the window, along with Michelle’s jacket, gloves, and cap. Michelle was seated at the table in the corner, the letter in front of her, a box of latex gloves beside her, and some kind of handheld scanner in her hands. Emily frowned when she saw the open laptop, and shaking her head, she straightened up the room. Discovering the receipt from one of the empty shopping bags, she blinked at the amount on the bottom. She cast an appalled glance at Michelle, who appeared oblivious, tucked it in her notebook on the page containing the amount from Subway, and found a seat on one of the beds, stacking the pillows against the headboard to give her support.
It didn’t take long before she was completely bored watching Michelle do inexplicable things with the letter, so she flipped on the TV, skipping through the channels before finally settling on an Orphan Black rerun. Other than a single annoyed look cast in her direction, Michelle ignored her, which was fine as far as Emily was concerned, though she did deliberately turn up the volume a little, just to make a point as to whose hospitality was being enjoyed here.
Both of them seemed definitely relieved, however, when a soft knock on the door came a few hours later. “How far has she progressed?” Lana asked in a low voice after Emily let her in. She’d clearly showered and changed and was now dressed in a silk, wine-shaded blouse and dark pants, looking greatly restored from her nap.
“Hard to say,” Emily said.
“Not far enough,” Michelle responded pointedly, though she didn’t look up from her work. “Why don’t you two make yourselves scarce while I do this. It’ll be less distracting.”
Lana shot a glance at Emily and smiled faintly. “There’s always that dinner and dance at the Warehouse.”
Emily’s heart suddenly thudded so hard she thought it might crack her sternum. Forcing air into her lungs, she had to rely on all her training not to break out into a sloppy smile. “Sure, that sounds great.”
“Give me a minute to shower and change?”
Chapter Fifteen
Michelle snorted as soon as Emily had disappeared into the bathroom. “Well, you just made her day.”
Lana glanced at her. “It’s just something to pass the time while we wait for you to finish what you have to.”
“Yeah? Better hope that’s all it is for her, too,” Michelle warned her.
Suddenly uncomfortable, Lana took a seat in one of the armchairs. “So what have you discovered so far?” she asked. “Who wrote the letter?”
“Father Beauséjour, and I believe he wrote it to Thomas. I think he wanted him to know why the cross was no longer in the box, that he’d taken it with him, and that it was still safe. But the Duperies family never returned to Nova Scotia. They all stayed in Louisiana, so Thomas never found the letter.” Michelle tapped on the laptop keyboard. “I’m using the scanner to bring out the ink, making it more visible.”
“Wouldn’t—I don’t know—lemon juice or something help with that?” Lana asked.
She still wasn’t sure why she was so cheerfully shelling out money for this expedition other than the fact that this was who she used to be. Once she committed to something, she was in all the way, no holding back, from learning how to tie flies to mountain biking. Sarah had always loved that about her, Lana remembered wistfully. Or at least, she always claimed she did.
Michelle shuddered delicately at Lana’s suggestion. “Any kind of chemical that would bring out the ink would also damage the parchment,” she explained. “Scanning the sheet from different angles with different wavelengths brings out the contrast between ink and paper, making what’s written more visible. Every scan adds more to the image on the computer. Eventually, I’ll have a complete rendering of the note. It’s not as good as what the high-end scanners in the lab could do, of course, but it should allow me to read most of what was written.”
“But what about—” Lana stopped as the door to the bathroom opened.
Emily was wearing makeup, she thought dazedly. She’d never seen her in makeup. Or in a low-cut, cleavage-exposing shirt, or ass-hugging black jeans, or seen her hair curled in golden waves around her face.
“Wow, you clean up nice, Constable,” Michelle noted.
Emily favored her with a dark look but smiled when she looked back at Lana. Using the brief diversion, Lana got a grip on herself. “You look great,” she echoed in a soft voice, and Emily beamed. “Shall we go?”
“Have fun, kiddies,” Michelle said cheerfully. “I won’t wait up.”
Outside, Emily offered Lana a serious look. “You know she’s half cracked.”
“She’s just American,” Lana said weakly.
“I don’t think that’s it.”
But she smiled a little as she unlocked the passenger door for Lana, even opening it for her before going around to the driver’s side. As Lana settled into the leather seat, she found herself sneaking quick glances at Emily while she started the car, absorbing everything about her, the sure and strong way her hands moved over the gearshift and the wheel, how she was a conscientious and alert driver, constantly checking the rearview mirror and side angles, how the illumination from oncoming cars flashed over her strong features. Her actions were commonplace and hardly worthy of notice, yet oddly arousing at the same time. It was as if Lana had never seen her before, or at least had never perceived her as anything more than someone just wearing a uniform. A kind, caring, funny uniform, of course, but not as someone to whom Lana might be attracted.
That had certainly changed in the space of only a few hours.
The Warehouse in Wolfville was a cavernous building that had been used to store apples a half century earlier. Now it was the college town’s main hangout, with a long bar that ran along one side, tables at the front, and a respectably sized dance floor and DJ booth at the other. A couple of pool tables and some pinball machines were set up in a back room, and more tables could be found in a upper-level balcony that circled the area, providing a sort of gallery for patrons to watch the dancers. The entire bar was liberally decorated with Acadia Axemen-related memorabilia and, for this weekend, with a lot of additional rainbow flags, streamers, and balloons.
Lana was surprised when Emily, rather than pay the entrance fee, handed over two tickets she apparently already had in her possession. Making their way to the upper level, they found a table near the back, away from the better part of the music and noise. There they ordered their drinks, a beer for Emily and a white wine for Lana, a
nd were informed their food waitress would be with them in a minute, though judging from the crowd, Lana suspected it would be significantly longer than that.
She glanced at Emily, who was surveying her surroundings with keen evaluation. “You’re not going to arrest anyone, are you?”
Emily focused on her, smiling faintly. “If I haven’t arrested your friend before now, then I doubt I’ll go after anyone else tonight. Besides, it’s not protocol for me to arrest someone while off duty. Unless someone’s in immediate mortal danger, my duty is to call in any kind of criminal activity and act as an expert witness to whatever’s going down. I’m not supposed to become directly involved.”
“I didn’t know that,” Lana admitted. She paused and leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Are you carrying a gun?”
Emily laughed out loud. “No, there are no ‘carry’ permits in Canada, and even if there were, we’re not supposed to have our weapons while off duty. I’m not saying some members don’t have registration permits for their own personal use, so they can have rifles or handguns in their home, but I’ve never applied for one.”
“It’s not like TV at all, is it?”
“No, and it’s especially not like American television.” Emily paused. “You’ve never asked me anything like this, before.”
“I guess—” Lana paused, trying to phrase it the right way. “I’ve just never been that—interested.” She quickly touched Emily’s hand. “Please don’t take that the wrong way.”
“I don’t,” Emily said, her eyes grave as they regarded her. “Even when I could talk you into eating with me, I could always tell you weren’t really there. Your body was, but your heart and mind? They were somewhere else and all that was left was the grief.”
“For a long time, now. I guess I didn’t know how deep it really went. It wasn’t even a matter of feeling bad all the time. Or feeling depressed. I just felt numb. I’ve been going through the motions for months.” She took a breath. “Years.”
Emily exhaled audibly, dropping her head to look at Lana from beneath her lashes. “I hate to admit it, and I really hate to admit she had anything to do with it, but it’s obvious that meeting Michelle has—I don’t know, brought you back, somehow.”
“It has,” Lana admitted. “I don’t know how to explain it, either, but when I saw her car in the river, when I went down that hill to get her, it was almost like I could suddenly hear and see and feel again.” She shrugged, finding it hard to put words to what she was experiencing. “And now that I’m on this quest with her, I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
Emily, about to speak, was interrupted by the appearance of their waitress. After they ordered, quesadilla for Lana with a chicken Caesar salad for Emily, and the waitress had moved away, she continued the conversation.
“So you see all this as some kind of quest. Like in one of your books.”
“I guess I do,” Lana said. “Look, I know Michelle is dancing back and forth over some pretty thin lines, both legal and moral. Hell, I’ve been doing some dancing right along with her, but it’s just so exciting, Emily. It’s about having an adventure as opposed to just reading or writing about it.”
“The thing about an adventure is that it’s only in the aftermath that it can be called that,” Emily pointed out. “It can just as easily be called a tragedy or a farce, depending on the outcome. At the time, you’re just treading water.”
“But it doesn’t feel like I’m treading water,” Lana said earnestly. “It feels like I’m swimming toward something, something important. Not the cross, necessarily, but something.”
Emily sighed. “That’s the only reason I’m still here. I don’t trust Michelle at all, but I do trust you. And if you tell me you have to do this, for whatever reason, then I’m right there with you.”
Lana linked her fingers in Emily’s, entwining them as she squeezed warmly. “I appreciate that,” she said. “I guess I haven’t been seeing what’s been right in front of me when it comes to you.”
“You weren’t ready,” Emily said. “I know that. I was willing to wait. I still am.” She drew back her hand, dropping her eyes and looking a little uncomfortable. “I also know you and Michelle were—well, I know you’re sleeping together.”
Lana felt a twinge. “It’s not quite like that,” she said. “We did sleep together. We do have a room together.” She stopped. “Hell, now I am treading water. I don’t want to deceive you in any way, Emily. I’m working things out, and frankly, ever since you showed up, I’ve wanted—” She stopped again, searching for the right thing to say. “I don’t know what I want,” she admitted. “That’s the part I’m still working out. I’m not trying to be unfair to you.”
Emily managed a bit of a pained smile. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Lana said, a bit sadly. “Because I’m not sure I do.”
Emily recaptured Lana’s hand, seizing it in a firm grip. “I know how I feel about you,” she said earnestly. “I’ve felt it for a long time. I know I could be in love with you.”
Lane felt those words strike to the bone. “But you don’t know who I am, Emily,” she protested, feeling her throat hurt. “For the past three years—for the past three and a half years, ever since Sarah was diagnosed, I feel as though I’ve been sleepwalking through life, just getting through it one day at a time instead of actually living it. That isn’t really who I am. That isn’t the person Sarah fell in love with, or who she married. That’s definitely not who I was before Sarah. So how can you love that person, Emily? She doesn’t really exist. She was just a shadow drifting through.”
“She’s part of who you are,” Emily said mildly.
“Yes, but only one part, only the grief part. And I am sorely tired of grieving.”
“Okay, that makes sense.” Emily raked her fingers through her long hair, leaving it in disarray. “I guess you’re right. I don’t really know who you are. But I do know how I feel every time I’m with you, and that’s real, whether you like it or not.”
Lana bowed her head. “It’s not that I don’t like it,” she said quietly. “It’s not even that I might not return those feelings, because I really do like you, Emily. A lot. But I’m telling you this because, as much as you don’t really know who I am, I’m not sure I know who I am at this point, either.”
“Then maybe we can find out together,” Emily said, and squeezed her hand again. “Will you let me come along with you on this journey?”
Lana smiled. “I’d like that.”
“And maybe we can ditch Michelle in Canso?”
Lana laughed. “You’re going to have to get along with her for the time being,” she said. “She’s the one with the treasure map. Or at least the paperwork with all the clues leading to the treasure.”
“In Cheticamp.” Emily shook her head. “It’s not a place I’d put a treasure.” She lifted her head as ABBA came on, the catchy tune drifting up from the dance floor. “Dance?”
“Why is it everyone makes fun of disco, but once it starts playing, everyone heads for the dance floor, even the young ones who’ve never heard it before?” Lana complained, though she didn’t oppose being pulled from her seat.
“Because it’s ‘Mamma Mia,’ and that never gets old,” Emily said as she bounced down the stairs to the main floor.
“How can you resist it?”
Chapter Sixteen
Emily couldn’t believe she was here, dancing with Lana, seeing her laugh and move and just be alive again. It was wonderful, but she was determined to back off at this point, keep it casual. She didn’t want to scare Lana away. She’d already told her far too much about the depth of her feelings, already thrown the l-word around like it was nothing. It was time to take things very slowly.
And besides, Lana was right. Emily didn’t really know who she was or had been before Sarah’s illness. In fact, that woman might be a little more than she could handle, she thought as she watched Lana move lithely to the music, her throat catching at how incredib
ly beautiful and graceful she was.
ABBA gave way to some generic 90s tune, then back to the 80s with the very danceable and upbeat “Mickey” before they decided their dinner was probably on its way. On the upper level, Emily sank into her seat, the last tune still reverberating in her head and her heart still beating quickly from the physical exertion. Or perhaps it was merely from her dinner companion. Their return was timely as they could see their waitress, arms full of plates, approaching their corner.
After she left, Emily found herself toying with her salad, not really that hungry. Lana, on the other hand, consumed her quesadilla as if she hadn’t eaten in days. She really was tackling life again, Emily thought wistfully, finding it hard to swallow when she saw Lana wipe a bit of sour cream from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, the casual yet oddly elegant gesture making her seem incredibly relaxed. It was all Emily could do not to lean across the table and replace Lana’s thumb with her mouth.
Searching for something, anything to cool off that line of thought, she seized on Lana’s professional life. “I was wondering, have you ever thought of writing a sequel to—”
She stopped as she spotted a group of women ascending the stairs, just coming into view over Lana’s left shoulder. Amanda was among them, and while their breakup hadn’t been that bad as those things went, Emily wasn’t particularly thrilled to see her. Of course, she should’ve expected it, considering how small the community was in this part of the province. She sank a little in her seat, even as she knew that was ridiculous and hardly about to work.
Lana was regarding her, bemused. “Emily, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost.” Emily forced a smile as she saw Amanda’s gaze turn her way, her expression shift as she recognized her. As she started her way, leaving her friends behind, Emily’s heart sank. “Just an ex.”
“Oh.” Features suddenly curious, Lana turned as Emily rose from her seat to greet Amanda. Statuesque, with brown hair highlighted with light streaks and brilliant blue eyes, Amanda still provoked a certain attraction that rippled across Emily’s midsection. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t deny it, either.
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