My head hurts. My neck hurts. My hands hurt. The steering wheel mashed my boobs up around my throat. “Scared me,” she said, and climbed out of the car.
One of the construction guys said, “No shit it scared you. But you didn’t sit around. That was the fanciest driving I’ve ever seen. Lady, you rock.”
Obviously, she’d won his eternal admiration. She stood on shaky legs and let the damp, chilly air wash over her hot cheeks.
“Listen.” Berk gently took her arm. “I don’t want you to look. You’ll just be upset.”
At the pity in his voice, her knees gave way. She leaned against the car and tried to brace herself for more bad news. “Now what?”
“The branch pretty much totaled the trunk of your car.”
“The trunk?” Red dots danced before her eyes. She thought she was going to faint.
“I know,” he said. “I know. It’s a crime what that bastard did to this fine piece of machinery. But listen, my cousin runs a body shop in Aberdeen. He’s good. Really good. He’ll fix the Judge. None of this Bondo crap. He’ll hammer out the dents and paint it and make it as good as new.”
She breathed deeply, tried to keep herself from pitching face-first onto the gravel.
Berk leaned closer. “This car is so famous up and down the coast … he would almost work on it for free. Don’t tell him I said that, just keep it in mind when you take it in.”
She numbly nodded.
“That’s the best I can do for you. Now, excuse me. I have to see if I can figure out what happened to Jack. The little asshole.” Berk walked away saying, “You give the guy a chance, and what does he do? He destroys a classic car.”
She leaned against the hood. The cool of the metal soaked through to her skin. She supposed she should go look at the trunk to see if the car was still drivable. She wished she could collect her thoughts enough to understand what had happened, because right now, she couldn’t figure out why … why this had happened … to her.
The men milled around.
“What was Jack thinking?”
“He ran away.”
“No shit he ran away. Did you see Orrie and Chuck? They were carrying their hammers when they went after him.”
“Drunk.”
“Drugs.”
“Divorce.”
“But why try to kill her?” Accompanied by a nod of the head at Summer.
That was what snapped Summer out of her stupor.
Because that truth she hadn’t quite faced.
Jack had tried to kill her. He had looked right at her, seen her, then deliberately aimed a tree at her.
In the months since she’d come to Virtue Falls, she’d begun to relax her vigilance. She was cautious, yes, but no longer paranoid about everything and everybody. But now, someone had tried to kill her. Tried in the weirdest way, but tried—and almost succeeded.
Michael. Gracie.
No. No. He couldn’t have found her at the same time as Kennedy McManus. Unless he followed Kennedy. Unless he was smarter than Kennedy.
Gently, she shook her head to clear it, then as it throbbed, she held it in her hands. When she looked around again, she was alone.
The construction crew were over looking at the downed tree, at the wrecked pickups. One or two of them were headed back to work. It wasn’t that they didn’t care. But they were used to her being one of the guys. When she said she was okay, they believed her.
She wasn’t okay. She was scared. She was in shock.
Why not fire a bullet?
She remembered what Michael Gracie had said about hurting Kennedy: That’s too easy. I’m going to destroy his family, his friends, his business, everything he’s fought for and loves.
Had Michael decided to hurt her in the same way?
Orrie had chased Jack into the forest.
Chuck was headed back toward her. When he met her, he said, “The lousy little coward pissed himself and ran.”
“I know.” Jack probably wouldn’t stop until he got to Canada. But did he take the paper he’d been reading?
She shook off her pain and terror, and limped toward the excavator. She climbed up on the track and looked inside the cab. The space stunk like a dirty ashtray; the floor was awash with crumpled coffee cups. In the narrow space beside the seat was a piece of white paper, twisted into a hard, stained spiral. Leaning in, she pulled it out and with shaking hands, she spread it out.
Her photo stared back at her, taken recently in Virtue Falls.
Underneath it was printed two words: Summer Leigh.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
“I can’t believe the construction crew was dumb enough to believe you were okay.” Kateri paced across her tiny living room.
“The guys saw no blood, I said I was okay, ergo…” Summer shrugged, and winced.
“Men are simple creatures,” Kateri said.
In unison, the women nodded: Summer, sitting in a straight-back kitchen chair, no top, only her bra, and Dr. Watchman, who was examining Summer’s ribs, back, and neck. And of course Lacey, who watched them with a worried brow.
As Dr. Watchman poked her ribs, Summer held herself very still. “The construction crew cheered when my car started and I was able to drive it off the site. It was the car they were concerned about.”
Kateri rubbed at her hip, and paced to the window. “How did you keep the trunk closed?”
“They hooked it with bungee cords.”
Even Lacey snorted.
At four o’clock, the clouds hid any hint of sun, the wind whipped in from the ocean, and the people on the streets kept their heads down. That first winter storm was getting closer; every joint in Kateri’s body ached, even the artificial joints. Which made no sense—artificial joints had no nerves—but the doctors were philosophical, speaking of phantom pain and the mind playing tricks.
Yeah, yeah. Kateri said, “I wish Rainbow was back.”
“So do I,” Summer said. At Dr. Watchman’s unspoken urging, Summer tilted her head to one side, then to the other. “I’m worried about her.”
“Pfft.” Kateri waved away Summer’s concern. “Don’t worry about Rainbow. She’s capable like nobody I’ve ever met, and telling her that she could get hurt alone out in the forest just makes her belligerent.”
Dr. Watchman hummed in agreement.
“But Rainbow hears everything that goes on in this town, and she’d know why we’ve had two ‘accidents’”—Kateri used air quotes—“that harmed two women within two weeks.”
Dr. Watchman seldom spoke, but when she did, it was worth listening to. She spoke now. “Two women who are Summer—or look like Summer.”
Summer stiffened.
Kateri stopped pacing.
Dr. Watchman ran her fingers firmly up Summer’s spine. “What? That never occurred to any of you?”
“No, but if someone is after Summer, that is not good, either.” Kateri stared at Summer, and inevitably her gaze came to rest on her little finger.
Dr. Watchman massaged Summer’s stiff shoulders. “No concussion. You’d know if you had broken bones, but you’ve got a lot of bruising. You’re going to feel worse tomorrow. Take some over-the-counter pain pills, apply ice and heat alternately. A skilled massage would help the stiffness. Call Dr. Frownfelter if you get dizzy or have any abdominal pain. Promise me you’ll do that. Promise.”
“All right. I promise,” Summer muttered, and got to her feet. “I’m staying out at the Hartmans’ place, keeping an eye on it. I don’t have to tell everybody here to be careful, huh?”
Kateri and Lacey followed Summer out the front door and onto the tiny, low porch. Kateri pulled the door shut to give them a measure of privacy. “That guy you’re afraid of? Michael Gracie? He’s found you.”
Summer stood round-eyed and horrified. “How do you know his name?”
“When you got to Virtue Falls and you were so sick, you shrieked his name in terror.”
“Oh, God.” Summer knelt and fondled Lacey’s ears. “I shouldn�
��t have come to you, but I—”
“Of course you should come to me. I’ve already been dead once, drowned and eaten by the Frog God. How much worse could it get?”
Summer smiled as if she found the humor painfully amusing. “I wasn’t responsible the first time you died.”
“If some human guy tries to kill me, he’s responsible. Anyway”—Kateri pointed one finger toward the Pacific—“I’ve been through so much pain it has lost its mystique. I don’t enjoy it, but I can survive it. Don’t you feel that way? That you’ve already been through such an ordeal, you can face anything now?” Kateri thought that of all the people in her life, only Summer would understand.
“Yes. Yes, I do. But it’s also why I train and watch and anticipate.” Summer gave Lacey one last scratch under the chin, then used the iron railing to lever herself to her feet.
Lacey took her place at the edge of the top step and surveyed the street.
Kateri realized that Summer stood on the cusp of a change, a change she had planned since the day she stood up in Kateri’s living room, declared she refused to quiver inside any longer, and she went out to greet Virtue Falls.
Summer watched Kateri bend and rub her knee. “You’re in bad shape today.”
Kateri rocked her hand back and forth. “Kind of.”
“What’s the doctor say?”
“That my recovery has been miraculous, there are bound to be setbacks, and take two aspirin and call him in the morning.”
“He didn’t really say the part about the aspirin, did he?” Summer asked.
“No, he wants me to take pain pills, the heavy-duty stuff, the stuff I could sell on the streets. And sometimes I do take them, but I can’t stand the thought of growing dependent on them.”
“Oh, my dear.” Gingerly, Summer enfolded Kateri in a hug. “I think I have problems, then you make me realize at least I have the possibility of an out.”
“Maybe so, but you’re not out yet.”
“I can’t hide from him.” From her enemy, Summer meant. From Michael Gracie. “He’s not the Frog God, but he’s crafty and cruel. He’s handsome and compelling. So handsome. So … he’s fascinating. Riveting. Everywhere he goes, he leaves broken bodies and shattered souls.”
“Except for the handsome part, he sounds like the Frog God.” Kateri didn’t like the way Summer talked about him, as if he enthralled her.
“Now that he knows where I am, he won’t let me out of his sight.” Summer gripped the black iron railing with both hands, and her eyes glowed when she spoke of him, glowed with fear or infatuation. Or both.
“You escaped before.”
“Only because he didn’t know I was there and what I’d seen.” Summer stuck her hands in her pockets and wrapped the jacket tightly around her middle. “Anyway, I survived today, and I plan to survive tomorrow.” She grinned, as if the act of living was an amusement not to be trusted. “Are you going to the Halloween party?”
Kateri grimaced. “No. Margaret Smith invited the Coasties.”
“Sure. A bunch of virile young military men will liven it up. I know you don’t want to see Landlubber, but don’t you want to see the rest of the men?” Summer peered at Kateri through the deepening gloom. “See Luis Sanchez?”
Kateri wanted to kick the railing. She would have, too, but she didn’t break bones on purpose. “Does everybody in town know I’ve got a thing for Luis?”
Summer hesitated.
Kateri knew what that meant, and she did kick the railing. But softly. “Damn it!”
“You kissed him on the street.”
“I wondered if that would come back to bite me on the butt.”
“I don’t know that everyone believes it. I mean, I’ve heard people gossip about how dedicated he was to you after your accident, but no one seems to think that—” Summer stopped.
“No one seems to think that a handsome, fit guy would bother to want crippled little ol’ me.” Kateri understood. Oh, boy, did she. “That’s the problem. Not too long ago, I could have walked into that party and dominated. I was tall, smart, tough, and beautiful. Now, if I go, most people will glance at me and look away. People who do talk to me will either be old friends or people who pride themselves on winning their politically correct points.”
Summer, God bless her, didn’t deny it. “But to forgo the food, the music, the spectacle, because of your vanity—that’s dumb.”
Stung, Kateri said, “Yeah, but vanity’s all I’ve got.” She sighed. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Luis’s got a girlfriend? You’re kidding! He loves you.” Summer’s honest astonishment salved the wound a bit.
“A man has needs. So do you want to sell our party tickets to Mrs. Branyon and use the proceeds to go on vacation? Mexico? Hawaii? Bella Terra? Tuscany?”
“Sadly, my dear friend, that is the best offer I’ve had all year.” Summer gave Lacey one last pet and headed for her car. A few steps away, she turned. “There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Getting her hands on our tickets would make Mrs. Branyon happy.”
Kateri’s pleasure deflated like a busted balloon. “That sucks.”
* * *
For five days, Rainbow had camped out, keeping an eye on the old, abandoned World War II airport. The weather was getting progressively cooler, the wind livelier. She had decided that tomorrow morning she would give up, knock down her tent, and head back to Virtue Falls. She’d seen enough suspicious stuff to give a report to Garik Jacobsen, and she knew he would take action.
Then, right after sunset, a truck rattled down the road, bringing two men dressed in black coveralls who headed inside the ramshackle old building and shut the door behind them.
Rainbow figured she was too tall to flit, but she could dash, and she did, from tree to tree, getting close enough to see inside the windows while one man talked into a radio and the other fiddled with some switches.
Across the treetops, she heard the roar of a plane.
The guy flipped the switches, and long rows of lights illuminated the edges of the runway. The jet came down steep and fast, landing lights glaring. It landed hard, thrust reversers engaged before touchdown, then slowed swiftly, taxied up to the small building, and shut down the engines.
The man who had been talking on the radio walked up to the side of the plane as the stair door opened.
A smooth, handsome, well-dressed gentleman and two pilots descended and headed toward the building.
Rainbow lost sight of the gentleman. Then she heard a sound off to the right, swung around, and saw a man-shape silhouetted against the lights, taking aim at her.
She flung herself to the ground.
A bullet whistled past.
Then she was up and running, dashing, flitting, and all round getting the hell out of there.
It looked like her hunch about the airport had panned out.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Summer parked the Judge in the Hartmans’ driveway and gathered the cardboard Chinese food containers out of the passenger seat.
She didn’t really want to go in. She was bruised and sore, she didn’t want to explain what had happened today, and worse, she felt guilty for being late, like she was a straying wife who’d stopped at the bar for a drink after work. This morning, she had stormed out of here in righteous indignation. Kennedy had been an asshole who doubted her integrity.
Tonight, she was feeling sorry for not feeding him dinner on time. And she knew he could cook.
She was so screwed up.
No. Women were so screwed up.
Yes. Blame it on the whole gender rather than on herself. It wasn’t fair, but it made her feel better.
Sluggishly, she climbed out. She wouldn’t even have come back, but she could see him showing up in town, searching out her apartment, outing himself to the population of Virtue Falls. For the most part, she wished he would go back to California to do his research. She didn’t know why he wouldn’t, unless he f
igured he was going to convince her to do the horizontal tango.
Man, did he have the wrong girl tonight.
The back door flung open.
She swiveled on her heel.
Light from inside the utility room flooded the drive, and there he was, Kennedy McManus, a perfect silhouette of a perfect man: broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, big hands he used with the skill of a concert pianist. “Need help?” he called.
“No! I’ll get this.” She did not want him to see her car. She suspected he would say stuff like, I told you so. After the day she’d had, she didn’t need that. Even if it was true.
But he ran down the steps, then like a husband of long-standing, he leaned in and kissed her.
She had never had a husband of any kind, but if that deliberate, hot, lingering kiss was any indication of what married life was like, she had been missing a lot. If she hadn’t been creaking like an old woman, she would throw the Chinese food on the ground, flung herself at him, and have used him until he made her forget her fear and her pain. But she was creaking.
Gradually he pulled away. He looked down at her. He used his thumb to wipe her lower lip, and smiled. In an absentminded tone, he said, “It’s incredible how pretty you are.”
Pretty? With no makeup to start with, a few tear stains, and a thorough battering today? The light out here must be bad. Or good, depending on how she looked at it.
He took three of the containers. “Wait until I tell you what I’ve found out about Michael Gracie.” He headed toward the house.
Kennedy McManus had a reputation as having a one-track mind, and now she believed it. He hadn’t noticed the car at all—the first male who hadn’t freaked out about the damage. Points to him.
She shook the kinks out of her legs and followed. “What?”
“Nothing.” He held the door for her. “His background is impeccable. Everything he says about himself is true.”
She bristled as she walked into the house. “Except that I know his name is Jimmy.” Was Kennedy doubting her?
“Everything is so smooth. Normal people can be caught in self-serving lies. They spin their stories to prove they’re not to blame in a dispute, not at fault during an accident,… to make themselves look better. Everything Michael Gracie says about his flawless self appears to be absolutely, positively the truth.” They headed into the kitchen. “Which makes me doubt every word.”
Obsession Falls Page 24