“I think we should call someone,” Star said. “You should get back to your house and—”
“I don’t always understand myself, you see,” Lucy said.
A hint of color returned to the folds of the woman’s wrinkled cheeks, and Star exhaled.
“Since I was a very little girl, I just knew.” She laughed softly. “I was only eight years old when I told my mother that I’d helped Mrs. Holland from the bank tie her shoelaces. Oh, how she laughed, and she said that’s exactly what we do.”
“Huh?” What the heck was the old woman talking about? Star was beginning to think she was even crazier than she looked.
Lucy waved a hand in the air. “Oh, not literally, dear. Mr. Holland was a real scrooge, and after he shot himsel—” She pursed her lips and gave Star a look. “Well, let’s just say that after he was gone, Mrs. Holland was in quite a financial predicament. So I told her where he’d buried all their money.” The wrinkles in Lucy’s face seemed to smooth out as though the memory made her younger. She winked. “Under his mother’s headstone, if you’re curious. So, ever since then, that’s just how I’ve seen it. Because once I understand a person’s loose ends, well, to me they’re just like untied shoelaces, and I’m sure you can imagine that.”
“Imagine what?”
“That sooner or later you’ll trip.”
Star fidgeted in her seat. “I don’t understand, Lucy.”
Lucy blinked. “Don’t worry,” she said, and let out a soft grunt when she pushed to her feet. “Sometimes the answers only make sense after all the questions have been asked.” She looked past Star. “Ah, just in time.”
Star turned to see the Foothills Taxi van pull into a parking spot on the other side of a low wooden fence. Even from this distance she could make out Jeremy’s tall form and mop of curly hair in the driver’s seat.
Lucy walked toward the van, paused, and turned around. “Are you coming?”
Star sucked in one side of her cheek. An afternoon bus would put her back in Denver by nightfall. She could leave this weird woman who knew too much, and her sidekick who asked too many questions, and the house full of nice things. Pine Lake was beginning to feel less predictable than her life on the streets. Except the thought of going back made her wrap her arms tight across her stomach, and she slumped forward. “I need you to tell me something first. How do you know about the accident?”
Lucy looked skyward, blew air out of her mouth. “Such a good question, Star. But I don’t know much, only what I read in a newspaper article years ago. I just knew that it was important somehow.” Lucy smiled. “That’s how it works for me sometimes.”
“What newspaper article?”
“The one about the accident. It was in the Denver Post.”
Star dug her fingers into her thighs. She was too young to remember everything that had happened that night. Was it possible that someone had seen her? “How can you remember an article from eight years ago?” It didn’t make sense—nothing made sense—and the thing that bothered her the most also made the least sense. “Why do you even care, Lucy?”
Lucy shrugged. “So many great questions, and I’m really sorry that I can’t give you a better answer, Star. I simply don’t have enough information yet, but if you’re patient, I will answer you in time. For now, I can offer you food, safety, and a place to stay for however long you’d like. If you can be okay with that, I’d very much enjoy your company.”
A breeze rippled across the water, moving through the branches of the trees above her. Star tilted her head, closed her eyes, and felt the sun trace the lines of her face, then filled her lungs with the musk of water and earth. It was getting late, and while her mind spun with questions and uncertainty, she knew for certain that finding a new bench to sleep under was always easier in the daylight. She sat up straighter. One night. She’d leave first thing in the morning.
Star opened her eyes, ran a hand through her short hair, and jumped to her feet. “I liked being your Tuesday girl,” she said. “But I’m really curious about Wednesday.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
JESS
Jess thrummed her fingers in a nervous staccato on the kitchen table, her knee jiggling up and down. She’d finished straightening her room and had come downstairs expecting to see Lucy at the kitchen table working on a crossword puzzle. But she was nowhere to be found. Jess checked all the rooms, even peeking into the attic and tiptoeing into the basement. But there was no sign of Lucy or Star. Where could they have gone?
She spied the silent phone. The receiver was in her hand, and her fingers dialed 9-1-1 before slamming it back down. What was she doing? Reporting that Lucy had left the house without telling her? She let her head drop into her hands. In one day, a homeless girl had appeared on the doorstep and Lucy had vanished. What would the girl do if Lucy had another one of her spells and needed help?
The keys to Lucy’s Cadillac hung on a hook by the door. Jess grabbed them as she headed outside. She’d drive around town until she found them. They couldn’t have gone far.
But when she walked outside, her pulse quickened at the blare of a siren drifting up from Main Street. The siren grew louder until a white van pulled to a stop by the front walkway, followed by a police cruiser. The two vehicles crowded the small road, lights flashing on the squad car as the whine of the sirens slowed to a stop.
A tall boy popped out of the van and jogged over to open the passenger-side door. There was Lucy. Jess almost doubled over with relief. The boy took Lucy’s hand and helped her step down.
“Lucy!” she called. “Where did you go?”
The door of the police car opened, and a tall middle-aged officer got out. He strode up the driveway and fell in step next to Lucy. “Is everything okay?” he said to her.
Lucy smiled up at him. “Benjamin Watts, what a nice surprise!”
The three of them reached the bottom of the porch steps, where Jess stood trying to make sense of what had happened. Had Lucy been hurt? Jess’s pulse sped up when she realized who was missing. Star. Had she taken off? Hurt Lucy in some way? She scanned the area. There, in the van, was the girl, hunched down so low Jess almost missed her. Obviously hiding. The boy seemed to notice, too, because he’d fallen back to where the van was parked and stepped in front of the window. His tall form hid her from view.
“I’m here because you called 9-1-1, Lucy,” the officer was saying.
Lucy sniffed. “I did nothing of the sort. It’s Tuesday. Jeremy took me to the lake for my walk.”
Jess felt her cheeks warm. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, Officer, that was me. I didn’t know she’d left, and I got worried.”
The officer seemed to notice Jess for the first time. “And you are?”
Lucy answered first. “Jess is my live-in caregiver.”
Benjamin frowned and studied Jess for a moment too long. She crossed and uncrossed her arms, feeling like she’d done something wrong. He turned to Lucy. “I didn’t realize I’d been fired,” he said.
Lucy touched his arm. “Now, Benjamin, you have a job.” She tapped his badge. “An important one too.” There was real affection in Lucy’s voice that made Jess realize that Lucy and the officer knew each other well. “I couldn’t burden you any longer with my shenanigans.”
Benjamin gave her a half smile. “You’re not a burden.” He eyed Jess again, his face friendly enough, but the lines around his mouth were tight. “You’re not from around here.” He made it a statement, an obvious fact, she supposed, in a town this small.
“Denver. I was just passing through, but my car broke down, and then Lucy offered me a job. So, well . . .”
His eyes narrowed, and Jess was struck by how ridiculous it all sounded. If she were him, she’d be suspicious too. But then his face relaxed, and he laughed. The sound caught her off guard. He glanced behind him. “That sounds like our Lucy, doesn’t it, Jeremy?”
Jeremy nodded from his place by the van and grinned. “It sure does.”
Benjami
n rubbed his chin with one hand. “So that’s your beater that’s been parked outside the market all week?”
Jess nodded, tightened her ponytail. “It needs to be towed. I just didn’t have enough . . .” She trailed off, humiliated to have to admit how desperate she’d been and also surprised at how quickly she’d settled in here. She hadn’t thought about the broken car or leaving Pine Lake in days.
“But you fix cars, Benjamin,” Lucy said, and began to rummage in the pocket of her dress. She pulled out a handkerchief, a pencil, and finally her crossword puzzle. She squinted at the paper. “Eight letters,” she mumbled. “No, that can’t be.” She looked up at Ben, and Jess noticed how her eyes had grown dull and her shoulders sagged as though the effort of standing had suddenly become too much. Jess gently took her by the elbow. Poor Lucy was exhausted. “Maybe we can go inside and have some tea, Lucy?” She glanced at Benjamin. “Would you like a cup, Officer?”
Benjamin had taken off his hat and held it between his hands as he studied Lucy, his forehead creased with concern; then he nodded. “That would be great, but please call me Ben.”
Inside, Jess followed Lucy to the sitting room and helped her get settled on the small couch. She peered through the tall front windows to the driveway outside. Jeremy hadn’t moved, standing like a soldier in front of the van. Jess shook her head. “Who’s the boy?” she asked.
“That’s Jeremy. He gets me where I need to go.”
“Like to the lake for a walk?” Jess said with the tiniest hint of sarcasm. The least Lucy could have done was to leave Jess a note before she left the house with two teenagers.
“Exactly,” Lucy said with enthusiasm. “Always there when I need him.”
Jess bit her bottom lip, deciding to let the matter go for the moment. She’d been working for Lucy for only a week, so she couldn’t expect to know all of the woman’s routines yet.
“Tea for our guest, Jess?”
“I’m sorry?” She turned away from the window. Ben had joined them, standing in the doorway, his shoulder resting against the frame. She stiffened when she realized why Star was hiding. A police officer would be obligated to call social services. She glanced out the window—the van had disappeared.
“I said, why don’t you make a pot of tea?” Lucy pointed toward Ben. “For our guest.”
“Of course,” Jess answered. “Tea.” And she headed to the kitchen to brew her second pot of tea in one day.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
STAR
The minute the van pulled up to the house, they’d been tailed by a police car with sirens wailing. She pressed her arms into her stomach, told herself not to panic. Jess had called the cops, of course. Her betrayal stung, but what had Star expected? Jess owed her nothing. And Star knew better than to expect anything more from an adult.
As soon as Jeremy stopped the van, she flung herself toward the door. She’d run back to Denver if that’s what it took to get away.
“No, Star.” Lucy’s calm voice eased the panicky feeling that ran circles in Star’s stomach. “He’s not here for you. Stay in the van.”
She let go of the door handle and hunched low. Her muscles tingled, making it hard to sit still.
Lucy eyed Jeremy, who was staring at Star with his mouth hanging open. Star glared back. “My door, please, Jeremy,” Lucy said.
Without a word, Jeremy hopped out of the van, but Star noticed how he stood in front of the window, hiding her from the cop. Did he know how much she wanted to run? A few minutes later, Lucy, Jess, and the policeman disappeared inside the house.
“Coast is clear,” Jeremy said through the glass now. “Mind if I come in?”
“It’s your van,” she said, and pushed up from her crouch to sit on the bench seat.
Jeremy slid into the seat, started the van, and without a word drove quite a distance down to where the road ended, then turned the van around so that it faced Lucy’s house up on the hill. “We can see when he leaves from here,” Jeremy explained.
Star ripped the top layer of a fingernail off with her teeth.
“I’m coming back there,” he said, and without waiting for a reply climbed into the back, settling his tall frame beside her on the fabric bench. His long skinny thighs rose high above the seat, his knees jammed into the back of the driver’s seat.
Star bit off another nail and twisted around so that her body faced away from Jeremy.
“You know you’ve got loads of bacteria underneath your fingernails?”
Star halted midbite and turned to stare at him.
“Not yours specifically. In general.” He held his hands out in front of him, peering underneath his short nails. “Even mine.” He waggled his long fingers, and that’s when Star noticed his nails: painted with a clear coat, tiny white pieces of glitter embedded in the polish. “Too much?”
She shrugged.
“Then maybe I can paint yours sometime,” he said. “I’m in desperate need of a girlfriend.”
Star stiffened and inched her hand toward the door handle.
“Not that kind of girlfriend, Star.” He half smiled, his jaw tense.
She shrugged. “Okay.” So he was gay. What did she care?
“It’s a small town,” he said, and peered dramatically over his shoulder, continuing in a terrible country accent. “Some folks say there’s a camp, deep in the woods, where they send kids like me. It’s called Camp WeCanChangeYou. They have crafts.”
She laughed, and the sound was so foreign to her ears she almost choked. “I guess it’s a good thing I hate crafts.”
He smiled and relaxed into the seat.
“But I don’t care,” she said, crossing her arms.
He looked at her for a long moment. “Thing is, there aren’t kids like you around here.” He studied his nails. “I should know.”
She bristled, sat up straighter in her seat. “Like me?” What could he possibly know about her?
He held his hands up. “Easy there, Tuesday. It’s not hard to tell you don’t live here. And there’s something about you—an edge, I guess. The kids here, well, most of them are as stereotypical 1960s as they come. So I thought I’d just lay it out there, see if my theory about city kids is true.”
“What theory?”
“That you’re not small-town stupid.”
She took another nail in her teeth and, while she stared at him, tore it off. He smiled back. “Plus, if Lucy likes you, well, that’s endorsement enough for me. Lucy knows how to pick the good ones.”
They sat for a few minutes. Star didn’t know what to say to this boy. He was so different from any of her foster siblings or the kids on the street. Weirdly open. And from the way he’d protected her from the eyes of that cop, he’d obviously guessed she had a reason to hide. But he didn’t pepper her with questions. She sat up a little straighter in her seat. “How come you’re not in school?” she ventured.
“I graduated early.”
“You graduated early so you could drive a taxi?”
His eyes narrowed. “How come you’re afraid of cops?”
“That obvious, huh?”
His floppy curls danced as he laughed. “Nah. Weird caregiver lady definitely noticed, but I think Ben was focused on Lucy.”
“You know him?”
“Small town, remember?”
Star didn’t respond. She’d never lived in a town as small as Pine Lake. Once she’d lived in a suburb with green lawns and a park, but that had been when her mom was alive.
“So cops scare you?”
She sighed. “They don’t scare me,” she said, and let it drop. They’d never rescued her from a single one of her abusive foster homes, though. And they’d dragged her back every time she ran. But that wasn’t any of Jeremy’s business. “What’s your story?” she said, trying to change the subject.
“You want to know my story?” He threw his hands up in the air with a smile. “Why not? Who can’t trust a Tuesday girl? Besides”—he pointed to her hair—“I like your styl
e. It’s fierce.”
Star ran a hand along the side of her head.
“The truth is that I haven’t graduated yet. I’m homeschooled, so my hours are very flexible,” Jeremy said.
“That sounds cool.”
He snorted. “I’m sixteen and the oldest of eleven kids. My youngest brother still craps his pants. I go to school in a nursery. But I’ll tell you a secret.” His eyes shifted from side to side. “It’s not really a job. I just drive Lucy around whenever she needs me.”
“But you have a decal and everything,” she said.
“I sometimes go a little overboard.”
His openness caught her off guard, made her uncomfortable and curious. The kids she knew were guarded and suspicious. Jeremy was none of those things. He was so normal.
He clasped his hands behind his head. “Your turn, Tuesday.”
She stared down at her lap. Sharing personal bits of information was something friends did. And the last real friend she’d had was Jazz. She shuddered, hugged her arms into her chest, and fell quiet. Maybe Jeremy would get the hint and go away.
But he stayed seated beside her, apparently waiting for her to talk, thrumming his glitter nails across his thigh.
She turned back to face him. “I’m not afraid of cops,” she said, and his fingers halted. “But I don’t trust them either. I’m a foster kid—or was.”
Jeremy shifted, cleared his throat. “What happened to your family?”
She paused and studied her fingernails—ragged tips but clean now. “My mom died when I was five and my dad when I was eight.”
“Oh man.” Jeremy swallowed, and his large Adam’s apple moved visibly up and down. “That’s . . . really sad. So your foster family moved to Pine Lake?”
“No, I don’t live here, and I’m not a foster kid anymore.”
Jeremy scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. His eyebrows were thick, like two caterpillars, and combined with his flop of curly hair the effect was clownish. “So where do you live?” he said quietly.
“On the street,” she said. “Take your pick—I’m homeless, a street kid, a fucking nuisance.”
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