Chapter 5 #2
“No, gracias.” She bit off a piece of a pretzel, then after swallowing, said, “Let’s see, one time we were at the same party when the message went out.
I saw it first, swiped her car keys from the key bowl, put them in the fridge.
” She laughed at the memory. “I texted her after I got the primo case and told her where they were. Another time, she got the message first, saw where I’d parked, and let all the air out of one of my tires, then she went in and grabbed the best case. ”
“This is getting really interesting,” he said, laughing softly. “Who won this ongoing competition of yours?” he asked.
Camellia shook her head. “We agreed it was a tie and that our final grade would be the tiebreaker.”
“And?”
“We got the exact same score. Perfect. One hundred percent, both of us.”
“Have you seen her since?”
“Not since she flipped me off with a smile at the reception after we aced the licensing exam. I returned it with both hands and a superior smile.”
“I see.”
“So I won.”
“Noted.”
Her playful smile died and she said, “Maybe I should call her. Maybe she could help us figure this out. She’s the only snoop I know who’s as good as I am.”
“I have absolute faith in you,” he said. “Have you been in business long, then?”
“I haven’t really started my business yet.”
“Oh.”
She glanced his way quickly. “Declared absolute faith a little soon, didn’t you?”
“Not a bit.”
“Why? You don’t even know me.”
The teasing lilt had left her voice. “Oh, I think I’m getting to know you pretty well,” he said. “Highly competitive, holds a grudge long-term, likes her whiskey on ice, speaks Spanish, and not allergic to peanuts. You already have ideas about these roadblocks you’ve hit, I can see you do.”
“I have a couple. But the main one sucks.”
“What is it?”
“That Cilla’s story was incorrect, either on purpose—which I feel is very unlikely since the whole tale is backed up in her diaries—or in some way she couldn’t have known.”
“Such as?”
“Maybe you got into the river some other way.”
He lowered his head to hide the hurt that kept creeping in. “You mean, maybe someone left me there.”
She bit her lip but nodded.
“I can’t say I haven’t been wondering the same thing.” He took a long pull from his bottle. When he set it down, he said, “That was your main idea, you said. What are your others?”
“Just one really. We need to go back to Big Bend, where Cilla was staying when you were found. Work our way upstream with a stop in whatever towns got hit hardest by that flash flood.”
“And do what?”
“Ask questions. Talk to the locals, the ones old enough to remember.”
He pressed his lips and said, “I gotta say, I like that option better.”
She smiled quickly. “Because the other one’s too depressing?”
“Because the other one’s the end of the story. And I’m not happy with that ending.” He held her eyes for a long moment, but then someone dropped some change into the jukebox and started up a song.
He took her hand and pulled her out onto the floor, where nobody else was dancing. He didn’t know why; he just did it. She came along laughing, and he led her through the simple, bouncing steps his mom and grandma had taught him as a little boy, part cha-cha, part jitterbug, Grandma Sage had said.
She picked up the steps quickly and was soon laughing with him on the floor.
Wolf felt better than he’d felt in ages, aside from the notion that he’d been thrown away like unwanted garbage as a baby.
The music stopped and a slow song came on; he was still holding her hands. They locked eyes. She shrugged and smiled, then slid her hands around his neck, so he moved his to her waist, and told himself the urge to pull her in closer was a very bad idea.
Then she pulled herself closer and rested her head on his shoulder.
His breath whispered out of his lungs and for a second, he forgot to suck anymore back in.
Then she picked her head up and said, “So you want to do it?” And before he could put his eyeballs back into their sockets, she added, “You want to head down to that national park on the border and try to find your origin story?”
His heartbeat hadn’t slowed back to normal yet. “Yes. I do.”
“Can you get away for a few days?” she asked. “Starting tomorrow?”
“Boss on my construction crew told me to take some downtime after I explained about my mom and all. Said he’d hold my spot for me for a couple more weeks, but after that, all bets are off.”
“Well, heck, we oughtta be able to wrap this up in a couple of weeks. One way or another, we’ll have reached the end of the line by then.”
“And it’ll get you outta town for a while,” he said. “Give that ex time to cool off.”
“I don’t know why he left me alone for six months only to call again now,” she said.
“But you could find out. I mean, you’re a P.I.”
The song wound down, and he walked her back to the table with his arm hanging lightly around her waist, resting on her hip. Casual, not intimate. But almost intimate. Maybe.
As she slid into her chair, she said, “Like I said, I was afraid to check up on him. If I slipped and he realized it, it might spur him to start up again.”
“Well, he’s started up again anyway, hasn’t he?”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Here, use my phone. Then he won’t know it’s you.” He handed his phone across to her. She tapped away while he waved at the waitress and asked for a refill on his beer.
Moments later, Camellia nodded. “Ahh, he was dating somebody else. Mary Jo Gallagher. He changed his status from “in a relationship” to “it’s complicated” two weeks ago. Wait I’ll check her social. Her sites are…oh my God.”
The color had drained from Camellia’s face and the fear he’d seen earlier returned to her eyes. She turned the phone his way.
“In memoriam,” he read, beneath a photo of a pretty blonde.
Camellia had pulled out her own phone by then, and within few more seconds said, “Suicide. Hanged herself last weekend. Body was found in the woods about five miles from her home. She left a note stuck to the tree.”
“Holy God,” he said. “He drove her to suicide?”
“Maybe.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Or maybe it’s a damn good idea for me to get out of town for a while. Can you, um…be ready tomorrow?”
“I can. But—and don’t take this wrong. I swear I’m not violating our agreement—are you gonna be okay alone tonight?”
“Of course I am.”
Camellia
Camellia didn’t sleep a wink. Every time the wind rattled a shutter or a pipe groaned, she thought it was Earl coming after her. She’d changed her phone number and notified the police last night, first thing, before staying awake all night long.
It was okay, though. She’d had a lot of preparing to do. Like dragging Dad’s camping duffle down from the attic. Thing was four feet long and packed like a jigsaw puzzle. She packed a smaller bag for herself and did some online research, too.
In the morning, she couldn’t wait to get out of there. She had the most horrible feeling that Earl was going to jump out at her just before she managed to get away, and it was terrifying. She didn’t mean to leave rubber on the pavement in front of the house, but she did anyway.
She drove to the usually bustling village parking lot in town. It wasn’t bustling yet, because it was too dang early. You could barely tell it was daytime, the sky was so overcast.
They’d decided to take Wolf’s truck on the drive down to Big Bend, as it was more reliable than hers. Oh, her little Civic was solid, but all the routine maintenance stuff her dad used to take care of for her hadn’t been done since he’d passed, and she knew it was past due for a lot of it.
She didn’t want to leave her car at her mother’s. If her car wasn’t there, Earl would assume she wasn’t either and stay away. Even though her mom would be safe on her cruise for the next ten days, she didn’t want Earl sniffing around her place.
She found a parking spot out of the way and pulled in, then taped a pre-written note to her windshield. “Not abandoned. Please don’t tow. Back in a week.”
She was leaning over, smoothing the tape to her windshield when she heard the rumbling sound of Wolf’s pickup.
That old truck sounded way better than it looked, that was for sure.
She turned to watch as he drove right up behind her car and rolled his window down with a hand crank.
His long black hair was pulled back in a band today, and his smile was warm.
He wore a black felt cowboy hat, pushed back on his head.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning.” She grabbed the normal-sized backpack and the giant-sized duffel bag from her car and slung them into the back of his pickup, then went around to the passenger side and climbed in.
“You good?” he asked.
She noticed how closely he was looking at her. He wondered if she’d heard from Earl, she realized.
“I’m good. Got a new number immediately, as you know from our texts this morning.”
“Got it. Saved it. Didn’t use your real name in my phone either.”
“No? What did you use?”
“Veronica Mars,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and laughed softly as he drove away from the village, heading south. “I talked to Mom. They’re already the cruise ship, which leaves port at nine.”
“That’s good. I was worried.” He handed her a coffee from the console. “Place all locked up?”
“Like a vault.” She took a sip, said, “Mmm,” and took another. “I talked to Detective Simms last night. She was the one who helped me before, when Earl was everywhere I looked.”
“And you told her? About the girlfriend’s suicide?”
She nodded while drinking coffee, then lowered the cup and said, “She hadn’t heard. No reason she would, I guess. But she’s interested now. Said she’d keep me posted, and she’s been pretty good about that in the past.”
“Good. Also good that we’re getting you the hell away from here.”
“Hell, yes.” She glanced behind them as she said it. “Latest registration in his name is a Chevy Blazer, 1990. Probably the same one he had last year. It’s jacked with flat black paint.”
“That should be easy to spot.”
She twisted around in the seat, bringing up one knee, watching the traffic behind them.
Wolf reached over and touched her shoulder, and she looked at him instead. “You can take a breath now.”
She looked at him, nodded, smiled a little.
“Have you been this nervous all night? Did you even sleep?”
“Not really.”
“You should’ve called, Camellia. You could’ve crashed in Mom’s room.”
She glanced at him quickly, and he must’ve seen the slight alarm in her eyes, because he went on quickly. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I feel like we are.”
She pressed her lips, nodded. “It’s a new friendship, but yeah, I feel that way, too.”
“Well, you’re allowed to crash at a friend’s place when you’re scared and alone,” he said. “I think it’s in the rulebook.”
He was really trying to put her at ease, and she was beginning to think he meant it. Maybe he didn’t have any expectations from her beyond helping with the case. And becoming a friend.
“I had a long night, too,” he said, maybe to change the subject.
“What kept you up?” Camellia asked.
He patted the dashboard. “Put in a new starter. Got her a brand-new battery, too. Tested the alternator just to be sure. We’re in good shape for the drive.”
She nodded, appreciating that, but her nerves didn’t ease until they’d put a solid fifty miles between themselves, Hobbsville, and everything related to Earl.
At length and unprompted, she said, “He was a nice guy once. It was like something broke in his mind. All of the sudden, he was suspicious and controlling, always sure I was deceiving him one way or another. And he started hanging out with the worst group of guys, a bunch of gun-nut survivalist types. It was a relief, though, when he started going with them on their trips.”
“Trips?”
“All over Texas. Wilderness training, he called it. They’d set up camp in one park or another, do some target shooting and survival shit.
I swear it sounded like one of those Taliban training videos you see, except with white boys.
” She sighed, shaking her head. “God, I hope he didn’t kill Mary Jo Gallagher. ”
“Tell you what,” Wolf said. “I brought Ma’s diaries.” He reached across in front of her, popped open the glove compartment, and pulled out the red journal with a bookmark in it. “Why don’t you read aloud while I drive?”
“Sure,” she said. It touched her to be entrusted with his mother’s words. So she opened to where he’d left off and began.