I sincerely hoped he was right.
****
Tuesday morning, Zeke still seemed restless when he joined me for breakfast. Mom and Dad had both left early. I handed him the newspaper as a distraction. Figured he could focus on the sports page. Instead, he turned to the classifieds. Just as our bread popped out of the toaster, nicely browned and ready to be buttered, he stabbed his finger at one of the ads.
"McDonald's is hiring. Dairy Queen, too, and a dry cleaner's."
"You're thinking about getting a job?"
"I have to do something. I'm not used to sitting around, and I could use the money. I'm too old for handouts, especially from Melita."
I knew that feeling. I'd worked the past two summers, setting my wages aside so they'd last through the school year. My parents still paid for the big stuff, of course, but I didn't have to ask for money when I wanted to buy lip gloss or see a movie.
"Then put on some of your new clothes, and I'll drive you to apply."
He looked down at what he was wearing--the more ragged pair of jeans. "Guess I should, and a long sleeve shirt might be better, too."
I didn't answer. Whoever hired him would see the tats eventually. "You have ID, right?"
"Yeah."
"And a Social Security card."
"Yep."
"Let's get this party started."
****
Zeke ended up applying for all three jobs. Though I'd never have applied at the dry cleaners, myself--it had to be boring waiting for customers to make noon and after-work visits--Zeke said as long as they had a TV and didn't mind him doing his homework, he could handle it. He listed my cell number as a means to be contacted.
When two o'clock rolled around, I drove Zeke to Mom's office. I chatted up Susan, the receptionist, while Zeke found a seat in the waiting room. As usual, I admired the décor. Mom had hired a professional to pick out furniture and wall art. As a result, the room wasn't as boring as most. In fact, it was downright comfy. Another perk was the magazines she subscribed to. No financial weeklies filled the rack. Instead she had some related to sports, others aimed at women, and even some for teens. I looked for one of the latter before I sat down, knowing Zeke had probably been scheduled for a one-hour session. I planned to wait out there for him.
But when Mom poked her head into the waiting room and motioned for him to come in, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me along. Mom raised her eyebrows. Otherwise, she seemed okay with it, so I joined the two of them, sitting in a chair to the side. Zeke sat on the couch. With his butt resting on the very edge of the cushion, he looked ready to bolt.
"Are you nervous about anything?" Mom asked right away.
"I'm afraid you'll judge me for the things I've done."
Mom smiled. "Not only is it my job to remain neutral, I know you well enough to be sure I'm in the presence of a remarkable young man."
Remarkable? She had that right, but not, I'd bet, in any way she'd ever considered.
"And what's said here stays here?"
"Absolutely. You can trust me, Zeke. Please relax."
He sat back.
"Good. Now where would you like to start?"
"At the beginning, I guess. But first I want to ask you a question if that's okay. What do you know about Melita McGee?"
"Oh, um, I know she's divorced with no children and is apparently helping your dad with his campaign."
Zeke shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Weren't you and Mom in her grade in high school?"
"Yes we were."
"Did she have the hots for my dad back then, too?"
Mom bit back a smile. "Melita Manos--" She stopped and laughed. "Isn't it funny how we never stop calling female classmates by their maiden names? Melita McGee and your dad dated for a few months when we were juniors and he was a senior. Then Risa moved to town, and that ended. Sam took one look at her and dumped Melita. She was furious with both of them and did some childish things like letting the air out of Sam's tires and papering the tree in Risa's front yard. At that time, it wasn't a show of popularity or affection.
"Anyway, they pretty much avoided each other until our twentieth reunion. That's when Melita, who was now divorced from Jason McGee and already involved in local politics, made it a point to apologize to Risa and Sam over the mic. We all had a huge laugh about it, and the two of them actually became quite good friends. I know Risa loved to hike the Rockies with her." Mom looked away, apparently remembering. "I heard Melita was really devastated when Risa had the accident. I think she blamed herself, though there was nothing she could've done to prevent it. As I understand it, the rocks were wet and slippery."
Zeke kept his expression blank.
"Any other questions before we start?
"No."
"Then tell me what happened the night you disappeared from Ridge Rock."
Chapter Nine
For the next fifteen minutes, Zeke told Mom things I already knew. How the man named Enrique lured him in. How he woke up in New Orleans. How he finally got away when the national gang structure began to crumble. What he didn't mention was his life of crime or anything even remotely connected to shapeshifting.
"Where did you and the other boys live?"
"On a farm outside town. In Texas, you'd call it a ranch. There were horses and cows. A barn. A pond. Some chickens. A hayfield. We always had stuff to do. Chores, I guess."
"And no one went to school?"
"Bateman supposedly home schooled us."
"But surely that's regulated. There are state tests to be taken and passed, diplomas to be handed out--"
Zeke snorted. "Why? It's not like any of us were trying to get into a college. And Bateman had connections."
Mom looked decidedly disturbed and maybe a little doubtful, but moved on. "So the purpose of your kidnapping was to work this ranch all day without being paid?"
I tensed. Here we go.
"The purpose of our capture was what we did at night."
"I see." She didn't sound surprised, but then she hadn't heard the rest of the story.
"In groups of two or three, we roamed the streets of the city, mugging, sometimes assaulting tourists; robbing gas stations, liquor stores, and houses; stealing cars that we later stripped down for parts in the barn."
All natural color left Mom's face, her only outside sign of distress. Otherwise, she kept her professional cool. "They made you do this?"
He nodded.
"How?"
Zeke hesitated so long that I spoke up. "Show her your belly." He glanced at me in uncertainty; I nodded encouragement. Mom thought she could help? Well, to do that, she had to know how bad it really was. Zeke raised the bottom of his new gray T-shirt with visible reluctance.
Mom gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. So much for remaining neutral. "Oh, Zeke."
"They said they'd kill my dad."
Mom nodded acknowledgement of his words. I sat back, determined to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the session. A glance at the clock revealed that would be fifteen more minutes.
"Have you shared any of this with him?"
"Some. He's trying to figure out how to handle it. Doesn't want me to go to jail."
I leaned forward. "Melita, on the other hand, is only worried about Sam looking stupid because he's been blaming the wrong crook." So much for not talking. I leaned back. "Sorry." I pretended to zip my lips shut.
"Did you use a gun during these crimes?"
"Not me. My job was getting us inside buildings or locked cash registers or safes."
"They taught you to do this?"
"Yes."
"And were you good at it?"
Instead of answering, Zeke got up and walked straight to a painting on the wall. He opened it like a door, revealing a safe I didn't even know Mom had. I looked at her in surprise. She, however, focused her full attention on Zeke. He slowly turned the dial of the combination lock a few times, just listening. Then he spun it with determination. Left. Right. Left. One tu
g later, the safe door swung open. I saw a cash box in it.
Mom's jaw dropped.
"I'm very good, actually," said Zeke. "And just so you know, I'd never steal anything, but my feelings won't be hurt if you change that combination anyway."
Struck speechless for once, it took my mother a second to regroup. "Thanks for sharing this, Zeke. I know it's been hard. But now more than ever I believe that you need to vent to someone who can help you. What happened was not your fault. Sneaking into a strip bar is something many a teenage boy has tried. Responding to the lies of a clever stranger is another. And the crimes you committed in New Orleans? I doubt any juvie judge would convict you once they knew the truth. So the first thing I want you to do is stop blaming yourself for the past year. If you don't, you'll never move forward. Now does two o'clock on Friday work for our next talk?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Excellent. I'll see you both then." Without another word, she left the room.
Zeke and I looked at each other.
"That went well." I said.
"It went, anyway."
****
I impulsively detoured to our property in the Rockies instead of driving us straight home. Since Dad had only inherited it eight months ago, Zeke had never seen the place. Ten miles out of town, it could've been in another world. The scenery changed drastically from suburbia to the wilds of the wooded mountains that fast.
The cave house, which sort of blended into the mountain thanks to the architect's clever use of glass, wasn't all that big. It consisted of three chambers that had been converted to living areas. We had electricity and running water, plus all the other comforts of home. And the best part? The natural beauty. Eager to show it off, I as good as dragged Zeke through the house.
I pointed out the rustic furniture and southwest accents, as well as another painting I'd done, this one of the wolves that had captured my heart. While he admired everything, I got us canned drinks from the fridge.
"You did good today." I handed him root beer.
"Wasn't easy admitting what an idiot I've been, but if I'm not going to be honest, why bother, right?"
"Exactly, but it had to be hard."
Instead of responding, he sat on the couch with its cedar trim and bright cushions. "I'd like to have a place like this someday. It's very welcoming."
"Well, until you get one of your very own, you can come up here anytime you like." I glanced out the front door to the hiking trail that Dax and I had been clearing through the undergrowth in the forest that encroached on the property. "Come see what we've done." With our drinks in hand, we went down the front steps and across the so-called yard, which sloped to the lake. The woods lay to the east and the west of that cleared area, so thick that we couldn't see the normal houses in the vicinity, though there were several that had lakefronts, too.
I set down my drink and his. Leading the way down the path, strewn with pine needles, broken twigs, and many years worth of fallen leaves, I lured him into the woods. Flowers scented the air--honeysuckle, I thought. Zeke seemed to be in his element. I could almost see his Were senses zinging to life and doubted that he realized how his eyes darted from one shadow to the other or how deeply he breathed in the summer scents. When he stopped abruptly, I did, too, certain that he'd seen or smelled something my human eyes and ears couldn't.
I walked back to him."What is it?"
He looked at me as if he'd forgotten I was there. Odd. He'd been following me for five minutes. "Oh, um, nothing. Race you back."
Already? He turned and loped towards the house. I had no choice but to follow. Zeke won, of course. "Did you smell something I need to know about?" Pant. Pant.
"Not sure."
I grabbed his face so he'd look me in the eye. "Really and truly?"
He nodded. "Definitely had the feeling I was being watched, though. Did you?"
"No, but there are other houses around here. Besides, I'm just a normal girl."
"Normal, huh? As in something I'm definitely not."
Almost certainly blushing, I grabbed his arm. "I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean it that way."
Zeke took both my hands in his. "I don't want you tiptoeing around me, either, Skylar. It's okay to say what you mean. In fact, I want you to. And no apologies, especially when you haven't done anything wrong."
"Okay. And in return, I want something, too. I want the truth, even if you think it might scare me. Deal?"
"Deal."
****
We got home around five Tuesday evening. I checked on the roast Mom had left in the crock pot that morning. It smelled divine, and the sight of the gravy, carrots and potatoes surrounding it made my mouth water. Zeke helped me set the table for dinner, which we had when my folks got home around six. I wondered if Mom had told Dad what she'd learned about Zeke. While patient-doctor confidentiality ensured privacy, Zeke was a guest, which might make her feel obligated to mention his life of crime. But if my father knew the cold hard facts, he didn't let on. So our meal was pleasant with only a couple of uncomfortable silences.
After eating, each one of us took care of our own plate, rinsing and then putting it in the dishwasher. We watched CNN with my parents for maybe half an hour before I got tired of world discord and asked Zeke if he wanted to watch TV with me in my room. Since Dax had taken his, Zeke didn't have one of his own. My parents didn't say a word as we left them.
In my room, I sat on the bed with my pillows stuffed behind my head. Zeke, who sat in my saucer chair, channel surfed until we agreed on a movie to watch. Actually, I went with the first one he suggested and then began halfheartedly messing with my smart phone to find out just what it could do. I was surprised to see there was a stopwatch function, not that I'd ever use it. And there was a recorder, as well. I got it started and tried to think of something to say as a test.
"Zeke?" Mom called him from downstairs. "You've got a visitor."
"Dad!" Zeke rolled off the bed and shot out the door. Stuffing my cell in my back pocket, I followed on his heels. But it wasn't his dad sitting in the living room. It was Melita. Zeke's smile vanished.
Hers widened into a fake smile. "Hi, Zeke. How are you?"
"I'm okay."
"Good, good. I brought you the phone we promised." Since she stood and offered it to him, he really had no choice but to walk over and get it. I saw an iPhone in a protective black case.
"Thanks."
"My pleasure. Can we talk?" Her glance at me and my parents made it plain that she wanted to be alone with Zeke. My heart lurched. If she was about to be rude to him again, I wanted to be there, claws extended for the kill.
"Why don't the two of you use my office," said my ever-helpful mother. I honestly wanted to trip her as she showed them the way. I stayed in the living room until she got back and then darted into the hall, fully intending to listen in.
"Skylar! Come back here."
I ignored Mom and blatantly pressed my ear against the almost-closed door. I could clearly hear every word Melita said.
"Sam told me he's driving down to see you on Saturday."
"That's right." Zeke sounded very cautious.
"I know you need a car, but is it really smart to look for one in Ridge Rock?"
"Dad's buying me a car?"
"So he said."
"What happened to my Mom's?"
"He traded it in for my Enclave. If the two of you look for a car here, he's bound to see people he knows. They'll undoubtedly recognize you, which could put his whole campaign at risk. And honestly, Zeke, do you want your father to look like a paranoid fool?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"I've explained this before. When you went missing, Sam accused Ace Kensett early on, and never wavered, not even when the police repeatedly assured him there was simply no evidence linking the man to the crime. Sam was so positive that he spoke out against Ace time and again in public. He questioned his work ethic, his morals, and his associations. As a result, Ace's popularity plummeted, and
he lost his chair on the Council. He'd love to make Sam pay by exposing the truth. Or maybe he'll get to him another way. Ace is still a very powerful man who has already taken the fall, so to speak, for your kidnapping. You might turn up missing again and this time never make it home."
"I'm not afraid of Kensett, and neither is Dad. As for what people will think, Dad's record speaks for itself."
"Are you referring to his fifteen years as a small-time county sheriff? Hardly. We've built this campaign on charisma and the myth that right conquers might. Your appearance will cast a shadow of doubt over everything."
Could she be more dramatic? It's a wonder he didn't puke on her.
"You act like my dad doesn't have a brain in his head."
"I think we both know whose brains run this show. So right now I need you to call him on that shiny new phone and say that you won't be available on Saturday after all."
"Can't do it. I've never lied to my dad and don't plan to start now."
"Zeke, listen to me--"
"No, you listen to me. I'm done with being pushed around by you or anybody else. Just like my dad, I can think for myself. So I suggest you get the hell out of here and stop interfering."
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