“She has a point,” Josh said.
Kristen added, “I wouldn’t blame him if he was insulted by the whole thing. I’d be mad if someone asked me something like that, especially out in public.”
Missy sighed. “Fine. So what do we do?”
Kristen tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling more uncertain by the moment. “I don’t know how to move a conversation with a man I barely know from ‘Hello’ to ‘Did you sleep with my mom?’ to ‘Let me live with you.’ That’s a lot.”
“It’s complicated, I’ll give you that. And you’re not super quick in social situations, either.” Missy thought about it a moment. “What you need is a script. Then you’d know exactly what to say.”
“That could help,” Kristen said.
“Let’s make one up. Josh, take notes.”
He looked down at his empty hands. “With what?”
“Your phone! I— Oh. Right. Your phone sucks.”
“I don’t need notes,” Kristen said impatiently. “It’s not like I can stand there and read from a piece of paper, anyway. That would be stupid.”
“We’ll keep it simple, then,” Missy said. “Number one, say hello.”
“Okay.”
“Number two, do your weather thing, which is lame, but it is what it is.”
Kristen nodded.
“And then, number three, slide in a question about him going to Dove Pond High School and what it must have been like back then.”
“That’s good,” Josh said approvingly. “Old people love to talk about the past.”
“Okay. This sounds good so far.” Kristen looked at Missy. “And after that?”
“Last, ask if he knew your mother back then. And by ‘know,’ you mean in the biblical sense.”
Kristen’s face grew hot. “Missy! I can’t say that!”
“You don’t have to. Just wink when you say ‘know.’ He’ll get it.”
Josh winced. “That’s sort of rude, Missy.”
“Fine. Do you have a better idea?”
“Yeah, I do. What Kristen needs is a cover.”
Missy frowned. “A what?”
“A cover. Like a spy. Total double-o-seven stuff.” When Missy’s frown didn’t change, he impatiently turned to Kristen. “Think about how spies get information. They go in undercover, on the down low, and pretend they’re a wealthy businessman in town or a foreign power looking to buy a nuke or something like that. Once everyone believes the spy’s cover, that he’s there for those reasons, then he can start collecting information.”
Kristen didn’t think she’d ever heard a stupider idea. “I can’t pretend I’m from out of town. Mr. Stevens knows me. Heck, everyone knows me. I’ve lived here since I was six and—”
“No! You don’t understand. I meant you—” Josh took a deep breath. “You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. You need a local cover, something that will give you a reason to talk to Mr. Stevens about his past. Something legit. Something that won’t set off any alarms. That’s a cover.”
“Ohhhh,” Missy said. “A cover.”
“Fine,” Kristen said. “I need a cover. What reason could I possibly have for asking Mr. Stevens questions about his youth?” Inside the store, Mr. Stevens had started putting new dog treats into a nearby rack. Kristen watched him, trying to picture him with her mother. She could see what her mom must have found so attractive. He was tall and auburn-haired and had one of those half smiles that made you smile back whether you meant to or not. He was swole, too. Good genetics. That would be a plus. Kristen knew very little else about him, though. The entire extent of their relationship so far had consisted of “Can I help you find anything?” and “Do you want the receipt in the bag?”
Josh suddenly gave a quick hop. “I’ve got it! We’ll tell him we’re from the yearbook.”
Kristen and Missy stared at him, waiting, but he just grinned as if he’d solved all their problems.
Missy sighed. “And?” she prompted.
“We’ll tell Mr. Stevens we’re working for the yearbook and we want to feature him in a new alumni section. We can ask him all sorts of personal questions then. We can ask where he’s lived, what sports he played, who he dated and when—all of it!”
“That’s true,” Missy said slowly. “Josh, that’s brilliant. We can use this same cover on all three suspects, too.”
“Exactly. Plus, we can do it together instead of Kristen having to go in there alone.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you. “I love this.”
“It could be fun.” Missy rubbed her hands together, warming to the idea. “Josh, you can pretend to take pictures with your phone. Mr. Stevens won’t know it doesn’t work. I’ll take a notebook and act like I’m keeping notes. That leaves Kristen to do the ‘interview.’ ”
Kristen wished Missy would do the talking, but since Kristen was the one looking for her father, she supposed it was only fair she had the hardest job.
Missy went to the car and pulled her notebook and pen from her backpack. She slid the pen behind her ear, tucked the notebook under her arm, and bumped the door closed with her hip. “There. Let’s go!”
Together, they went into the hardware store. Missy called out to Mr. Stevens the second they walked inside.
A half hour later, the door whooshed closed behind them, and they walked to Kristen’s car, moving faster the closer they got. When they reached it, Missy whirled around to face Kristen and Josh, her face alight with excitement. “Oh my God, that was intense.”
Kristen shuddered. “I’m so glad we figured out a cover first.”
Josh glanced back at Mr. Stevens, who was fixing a sign over a display of rock salt. “I don’t think he suspected anything.”
“No, but sadly, it was a complete waste of time.” Missy cast a sympathetic look at Kristen. “He’s not your dad. He never saw your mom after high school.”
“Nope.” Kristen was sure that later on, when she could breathe, she would be sorry she hadn’t found her father in this first round. But right now, she felt nothing but pure, unalloyed relief. The entire time Mr. Stevens regaled them with stories about his time at Dove Pond High School, she’d heard her mother’s voice in the background, warning Kristen about the complications bringing her father into her life could cause them both.
A car pulled into the parking lot behind them.
“Uh-oh,” Missy muttered.
Kristen turned to see the Dove Pond police car sitting a few spaces down, Sheriff McIntyre doing something on the computer bolted to his center console.
“Don’t look!” Missy hissed. “He’ll think it’s suspicious.”
Josh, who’d been looking at the police car, too, sent Missy a startled look. “Suspicious how? We’re just standing here.”
“When have we ever hung out at the hardware store?”
“Never, I guess. Still, I don’t see why he’d care.”
“He wouldn’t, but we don’t want him to think we’re acting weird. He’s candidate three, remember? We don’t want him to know we’re— Oh! He’s getting out!”
Kristen fished her keys from her coat pocket. She’d just pointed the fob at her car, ready to punch the unlock button, when a shadow fell across them.
“Nice day for a trip to the hardware store, isn’t it?”
Kristen and Missy exchanged wide-eyed looks before they plastered identical smiles on their faces and turned toward the sheriff.
“Hi, Sheriff McIntyre,” Missy said brightly. “Chasing any criminals today?”
Josh gave an uneasy laugh, which made the sheriff turn his cool green gaze in his direction.
Kristen hoped against hope that they were acting normal, at least a little.
“What’s so funny there, Perez?” the sheriff asked.
Josh flushed. “Nothing. I mean… everyone knows there aren’t any criminals here in Dove Pond. Not real ones.”
“You might be surprised.” The sheriff’s gaze narrowed. “You kids seem nervous. Every
thing okay?”
Missy slid her sunglasses back in place. “Technically, we’re not kids, or I’m not. I’ll be eighteen in a few months.” Missy loved that she was older than the rest of them, which was funny because it was only because she’d failed third grade years ago and had to go twice.
The sheriff nodded thoughtfully. “Which means that under the right circumstances, you could be jailed for murder. No more juvie for you.” He eyed first Josh and then Kristen. “What are you all doing here?”
“Nothing,” Missy and Kristen said at the same time, each of them sending a frantic glare at the other.
Josh shifted from one foot to the other. “I guess we might as well tell the sheriff the truth.”
What? Kristen and Missy turned startled looks his way.
“We were just interviewing Mr. Stevens for an alumni section in the yearbook.”
Oh, thank God. Kristen let out a relieved sigh.
The sheriff flicked her a hard glance before he said to Josh, “The yearbook, hmm?”
“Yes!” Missy dove in. “We’re only focusing on successful graduates, of course, like Mr. Stevens, you, and a few other people. It’s nothing huge, just a cute little addition.”
The sheriff didn’t appear impressed. “I’m sure you can find far more successful people than me.”
“You have a really interesting job,” Josh said. “We’d interview you right now, but we just finished our interview with Mr. Stevens and, uh… we need to go through the notes and… and make sure we have good photos, too.”
“Right.” The sheriff’s gaze moved over each of them, resting the longest on Kristen. “Whatever you all are doing, be careful. You don’t want to get in trouble. I’d hate to have to call someone’s parents.” He gave them a cool nod and went on inside the hardware store.
Her heart thudding wildly, Kristen unlocked the car, and they all climbed in, sighing in relief when the doors closed.
“Oh my God!” Kristen covered her cheeks with her hands. “He was so suspicious!”
Although flushed, Missy pretended she hadn’t been in the least worried. “He probably thinks we’re up to a prank of some sort. He’d never suspect our real reason.”
Kristen guessed that was true. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be home, in her own room, surrounded by her own things and her dogs. She started the car. “Come on. I’ll drop you guys off at your cars.”
Missy looked disappointed. “I thought you were spending the night with me.”
“If we’re going to start the dad search now, I’ve got to do what I can to keep Grandma Ellen from suspecting anything.” I guess I’m back to being Wonder Kristen, at least for now.
“If you go home right now and act like nothing is wrong, she’ll know something’s up for sure. You were pretty mad when you last saw her.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let her know I’m still mad. She’ll expect that, but she’ll also be glad I’m home.”
“That’s a good strategy.” Josh leaned forward between the seats. “We should meet up tomorrow and work on our cover. Pulling that over on Mr. Stevens was one thing. Doing it to Sheriff McIntyre is going to be a lot harder. That man was born suspicious.”
Kristen couldn’t agree more. “He’ll ask us more questions than we ask him. I work at the tearoom until six. We can meet after that, if you all want to. I’ll just tell Grandma I’m working late.”
“We could use the practice,” Missy said brightly. “We should come up with a standard list of questions, too.”
Kristen murmured in agreement and then dropped off Missy and Josh at their cars, the two of them chatting excitedly, planning and plotting as if they really were in a spy movie.
But Kristen knew this wasn’t a movie. It was real.
And if she continued on this path, she might one day soon meet her dad.
Her friends might be excited, but she felt nothing but a growing sense of dread. And with that dread came anger, not just at Grandma Ellen, who had pushed her in this direction, but at Mom, too. Right now, every adult in Kristen’s life seemed determined to ruin it. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. She wouldn’t let that happen. Wonder Kristen was brave, and she would find a way to stay in Dove Pond with her friends, even if it meant she had to do something wild, something daring. That’s what superheroes do—the unexpected and the impossible.
And right now, Kristen had no choice but to do both.
CHAPTER 13 Ava
“It’s looking better. What did you do to it?”
Ava looked up from where she was kneeling beside the peppermint plant she’d brought home from the greenhouse and smiled at Sarah. “I repotted it to give the roots more room. To be honest, I think the sun has helped it more than anything.”
“It’s getting healthier by the day.” Sarah tied her scarf around her neck, the brilliant stripes no more colorful than her flowered leggings and bright red tunic top. “This room always did get the most sun. That’s why Momma loved it so much.”
The breakfast room was one of Ava’s favorite rooms, too, and for that very reason. It was located in the bottom floor of the turret just off the entryway. That was the beauty of a large, rambling Queen Anne–style home—they had more windows than walls. This particular room was octagonal in shape, with heavy wood trim, five large windows, a set of ornate pocket doors, and a fireplace with a black iron grate set against peacock-blue and green tiles.
Momma had loved every corner, nook, and cranny of this old house, although with seven daughters, she’d had neither the time nor the money to keep it up. As big as it was—nine bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms—the house had never felt too large to Ava, even after all her sisters except Sarah had moved away, one at a time, on their way to either college or new jobs. She and Sarah still hoped their sisters would eventually move back home, although so far, none of them had.
Ava slid the peppermint plant back in line with the other plants and set the watering can to one side. “I can’t believe you’re already dressed. You never get up this early.” Outside, the morning sun was just now gleaming bright enough to light the house.
“Do you know what today is?” Sarah asked, giving an excited little hop.
“It’s Monday. No, wait, it’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s Monday, and yes it’s Valentine’s Day, but those don’t matter. Today is the day I get to order new books.” Sarah’s smile could get no wider. “If I spend wisely, I can get three dozen!”
“I’m surprised you’re not already at work.”
“I know, right?” Sarah tilted her head to one side, her smile fading as her gaze moved over Ava’s face. “You look so tired. Did you sleep at all?”
No. She hadn’t. Last night, every time she’d closed her eyes, the stupid box had thumped up a storm. It had gone on for hours, too. Even now, she could hear it upstairs, thumping an angry beat that matched the headache already forming behind her eyes. Bam. Bam. Bam. It was remorseless.
When the secret had first started its banging and thumping, she’d been terrified that Sarah, who slept just down the hallway, would hear it. But she never had. Apparently only Ava could hear the box’s demanding fury. Thank God. She pressed her fingers to her temple, which throbbed in sync with the box.
“Another headache?” Sarah asked.
Ava nodded. “I just need some hot tea.” Gallons of it, to judge by the heaviness of her eyes. She walked past Sarah and headed to the kitchen, where she’d spent most of her money over the years. She’d gone a little crazy with granite countertops, Viking appliances, and other ridiculously expensive gadgets, but she and Sarah loved it, so it was worthwhile.
She filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove. Then she opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out a canister of rooibos and ginger tea, one of her newer blends.
Sarah walked to the counter, watching her with a concerned look.
Ava waved her away. “Go order your books. I’m fine.”
Sarah pro
pped her elbows on the counter. “You always have trouble sleeping. It’s been going on forever.”
“It’s just how I am. The best thing I can do is just keep on keeping on.”
“But these headaches. Ava, I’m worried. Have you seen Doc Bolton?”
Ava almost smiled to think of Doc’s expression if she told him she was being kept awake by a box under her bed holding a secret she’d locked away. “I don’t need to talk to the doc.”
Sarah sighed. “I wish you would.”
“And I wish you’d stop worrying about me and go buy your books. I’m heading to work in a few minutes myself, where I plan on staying so busy that I completely forget about my nagging headache.”
The kettle whistled, and Ava made her tea, stirring in a little honey as a boost. As soon as she got the tearoom up and running, she’d focus on the secret. Again. Over the years, she’d tried just about everything to make it stop, but nothing had worked. But there had to be something she could do.
“Can’t you make a tea to help you sleep?”
“Sarah!” Ava laughed. “Will you go to work already? Those books won’t buy themselves.”
“I just hate that you’re hurting.” Sarah drummed her fingers on the granite counter. “I wish I knew a— Oh! Maybe Aunt Mildred’s recipe book could help.”
Ava paused, her teacup halfway to her mouth. It had been years since Sarah had mentioned that book. Ava blew on her tea, the earthy scent rising to greet her. “I hadn’t thought about that book in forever. But I’ll check.”
Upstairs, the box settled into an even louder, even more demanding beat than usual. Ava’s headache quickened to match it. Stupid box. Stop that!
Sarah nodded absently, tapping her fingers on the counter as she thought. “I’ll walk through the science section of the library today and see if any of the medical books have an answer.”
Ava put her tea down. “Sarah, stop worrying. There’s no need to—” Her gaze locked on her tea. Small circles appeared on the dark tea, spiraling out in perfect harmony with the thumping upstairs.
No.
Slowly, Ava’s gaze moved from her cup to Sarah’s fingers, where they drummed in a steady row, perfectly matching the rhythm of the box.
A Cup of Silver Linings Page 18