Chapter 4 #3
“Yeah, but I feel like that would violate the spirit of our fake relationship, which is that I get to tease you with suggestions like that, not actually act on them. C’mon, I want to take a picture. This is a perfect spot.”
I groaned, but let him position me against the tree trunk, trying to follow his instructions and not look too posed.
After he’d snapped off a couple of pictures, I broke the pose. “Why don’t you tell me how to take your picture? You’d make a better model than me.”
“Been there, done that,” he said breezily, slinging his camera back over his shoulder. “Anyway, I got what I need.”
We left behind the cocoon of the tree and continued down the trail.
As we neared its end, the rushing of the stream grew louder and the hillside grew steeper and the boulders grew more numerous until, rounding a corner, we were greeted by the sight of a magnificent waterfall cascading hundreds of feet down a rocky bluff, splashing over boulders and pooling and churning into a small pond that lapped at our feet at the trail’s edge before feeding into the stream.
I stood for a moment, taking in the awe-inspiring scene, made even more magnificent by the sun finally breaking through the morning’s cloud cover.
I sensed Ricky moving by my side and turned to see him dropping to the ground, where he began to take off his shoes and socks.
I grinned and sat down next to him, following his lead, and together we dipped our toes in the freezing cold pond and stepped gingerly from one slippery rock to another in its shallows, laughing and occasionally reaching out to grab each other by the hand or arm to stay upright.
Finally growing too cold, I scrambled up the side of a massive boulder at the water’s edge, finding a luscious pool of sun on its top where I could stretch my legs and feel my toes returning to an acceptable temperature.
Ricky stayed below for a while, snapping photos, before coming up to join me in my basking.
He spread out next to me, our arms again touching.
I reached over and began lightly tracing an idle path on the back of his hand with my index finger.
“Now you’re teasing me,” he purred after a moment, his face still pointed to the sun with his eyes closed behind his sunglasses.
“Two-way street.” I grinned.
The sun was getting higher, suggesting that we should think about heading back to the inn for lunch before our couples massage in the afternoon.
We climbed down from our perch, put our shoes back on, and began the hike back to the parking area in comfortable silence.
As we passed back through the drooping tree, a wicked impulse seized me and I paused for a moment, taking Ricky’s hand as he drew up alongside me.
I pulled him close and brought my face toward his, as if to kiss him.
I hovered there for a beat, teasing him, then in a husky whisper said, “You’re right. This would be a great make-out spot.”
Then I dropped his hand and ran.
He ran after me, laughing and wheezing out, “You’re getting too good at this!”
We had slowed to a trot, still giving each other goofy grins, by the time we emerged from the trail into the clearing, dotted with picnic tables and punctuated to one side by a small copse of trees, between the trailhead and the parking lot.
I had my eyes on my target, Ricky’s car; the red Toyota pickup was still parked nearby and another car, a gray Mazda hatchback, had parked next to Ricky’s.
“Hey,” Ricky said in a low voice, grabbing my arm to get my attention.
I snapped back out of my focus, noticing for the first time that his wasn’t the only voice nearby.
My gaze followed his in the direction of the farthest picnic table, almost obscured by the clearing’s lone grove of trees, where two figures sat, deep in conversation.
Facing us was a woman in her mid- to late forties, with somewhat boxy short brown hair and wearing a somewhat boxy gray windbreaker.
The second woman, sitting with her back to us, had vaguely familiar flaming red hair.
Ricky was still looking intently. “Isn’t that the sister of the dead guy? Lis? The redhead,” he clarified.
Vaguely familiar, indeed. “I think you’re right.”
“Should we go say hello?” He started toward the trees.
I stayed rooted to my spot. I wasn’t sure why we had to go out of our way to talk to this woman we barely knew who hadn’t seen us. But Ricky seemed determined. “Ricky, wait,” I hissed at his back, then jogged to catch up.
He was deep in the shadows of the trees by the time I caught him, and just as I did, he stopped short. The boxy brunette’s voice had risen, and now her words reached us.
“… Don’t you get it?” she said, the exasperated edge growing sharper with every word. “Richard’s death is the opportunity we’ve wanted. Do you know how much is on the line here?”
“Yeah, let’s not interrupt them,” I whispered to Ricky.
“Shh,” he said, furtively looking around to make sure we were still cloaked in shadow and that the women hadn’t seen us.
Lis’s companion went on. “You’ve laid the groundwork to get back in her good graces. You need to make sure she changes the will. The time is now.”
Lis’s head fell into her hands, and her back shuddered as though she was crying. The other woman lowered her voice, reaching across the table and apparently trying to tamp down her own emotions to comfort Lis.
“Okay, come on. Let’s go,” I whispered to Ricky, uncomfortable with spying any longer. We turned and walked as quickly and as quietly as we could back to the car.
Ricky and I were both silent as he began the drive back down the narrow, winding country road.
I was puzzling over what we had overheard, trying to figure out what it could mean.
Ricky and I had both stopped in our tracks when we heard the woman mention Richard’s death.
And the mention of a will, with a great deal on the line, was a tantalizing mystery.
Richard’s death had looked like a ghastly accident; I wouldn’t have called an accident like that an “opportunity,” and I didn’t think I’d want to know anyone who would.
To speak so crassly to his sister, when the wound was so fresh—and she had seemed affected by it.
But now I wondered: was it grief … or guilt?