Chapter 34
Deep Cover Your Ass
TRE
“Makes you wonder what they were trying to cover up,” I finish.
“Oh, honey, I didn’t even think about that!” Carol exclaims, raising her hand to her mouth.
“I’m so glad whoever returned that cat and tried to clear my name picked you.”
“Mr. White, you can come back now,” Nurse Machado says from the doorway.
“Me too, Tre. I knew you didn’t do those things they said. And I was so relieved that poor cat was safe,” Carol says, touching my shoulder as I walk past to follow the nurse.
“Ah, exam room two. Just like old times, huh?” I tease.
“Old times?” she queries, shutting the door.
“Yeah. You know. Like the other times I was here about my shoulder.”
“So this isn’t a recent injury?”
“It is. It got wrenched last week, and it still hurts. But I was here before. When I hurt it. Before.” I’m studying her face for any sign of remembrance as we go through the motions of checking my vitals.
While she applies the blood pressure cuff, she asks, “This pain started last week. Have you been able to use the shoulder?”
“Yeah, it still works, but it hurts when I move it in certain directions.”
“Take a look at this chart and tell me which number most closely matches the level of pain you’re experiencing.”
This again, I think. “Most of the time it’s zero, but it can be, uh, six.”
She dutifully records my information on the computer but makes no further comment.
“So, how’s your week going? Do anything exciting lately?” I’ll make friends with her eventually.
“It’s fine. How about you?”
I tilt my head quizzically. Is she not aware? She’s not real talkative, but I know how this town gossips, and it’s the biggest story around.
“Well, I was—” I begin when Fiona raps on the door and enters. Every time!
I turn to watch Fiona, no longer caring about whatever I was going to say. Her hair is pulled back, highlighting her face. Her malachite eyes are fixed on mine as she crosses the room. She speaks with the nurse quietly for a few moments before taking a seat at the computer.
“Hurting your shoulder twice in a couple of months… Maybe hiking isn’t your sport,” Nurse Machado comments as she leaves.
My eyebrows draw together, and I whip my head toward her. I didn’t tell her how I hurt it this time—hiking was my excuse last time. So she does remember…?
“You can stop staring now. She’s gone,” Fiona says, grabbing my attention.
“Huh. Is she… What’s her deal?”
“You’re always so concerned about my nurse. Is that what you want to spend our time focused on?” Fiona stands and walks the few feet to where I’m seated on the exam table. She moves between my legs and leans forward, her face inches from mine.
I close the distance and press my lips to hers. I slide my tongue into her mouth while one hand skims along her neck to the back of her head and the other grabs her ass, yanking her against me. We stay locked together for a minute until my dick is so hard it starts pulsating, aching to be touched.
I lean back to pull her onto the exam table with me, but she steps away. Her breath is coming fast as she says, “We don’t have that much time, Tre.” But her cheeks are flushed as she tucks stray hairs in place.
“Hey, all I know is we’re almost sort of a thing and you said to come here. Tuesday afternoon was the earliest appointment I could get without a favor from Carol. So what’s up?”
Fiona clears her throat. “I’ve got a plan. For us.”
“Of course you do.” I grin.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing bad. You just have very specific plans for every single thing. Even when people have no idea you’ve ever thought about something, you have an entire plan for it.
I love it.” Oh shit. Did I just use that word?
Can I say that? Is it too soon? Am I going to freak her out?
My eyes go wide as my mind pivots from humor to worry, but Fiona seems to take it in stride.
“Right. Anyway. If we’re going to be together without making me a person of interest, we need a cover story that will make sense to people.”
“A cover story?”
“Yes,” she says. “Something that won’t make people look at us and wonder how that happened. I was thinking we could volunteer to work on some town project. Something that’ll require us to spend time together planning it.”
“That… Of all the things I expected you might say, that never occurred to me.”
“We want to be together, but if I ‘change my mind’ and we start dating out of the blue, I’ll become an obvious suspect. I sure as hell don’t want to keep sneaking around forever. Not only do we barely get to see each other, but it’s… inefficient.”
“Yeah, I get it. We need a safe way to be around each other in public long enough that people won’t be suspicious when they finally see us dating,” I acknowledge.
“You’re not wrong. That Henley and Montank investigator is still watching me, and the ATF is hanging around town.
Speaking of which, I had an idea that could help. ”
I hear the skepticism in her voice when she asks, “What’s your idea?”
“They’re looking for suspects, so we’ll give them some.
I’ll get a couple of prepaid phones and call in some anonymous threats using right-wing ideology talking points.
‘Don’t tread on me. Free citizens don’t follow your corrupt laws.
Stay off our land…’ all that dumb shit. People are already speculating about some militia being responsible, so it might send the investigators down that path and make them less likely to ever consider you.
It’ll provide more reasonable doubt if there are any future charges.
“And maybe they’ll back off a little if they think that’s who’s behind it all. They’re dying to paint environmentalists as terrorists, but the extreme right gets free passes on everything. They might treat it like the Cliven Bundy standoff and drop the whole thing.”
“Hmm, maybe. Just let me know before you do it, okay? If you don’t do it right, they’ll trace it to you and you’ll be screwed.”
“Fine, I won’t do it yet. But I’ll probably start working on the wording of my ‘manifesto,’” I reply, grinning.
“Right. So, any ideas about an event we could use as a cover story?”
“You just assume I know everything that’s happening in—okay, yeah, fair enough.
” I consider it. “There’s nothing good coming up soon.
Everybody does their own thing for Labor Day.
There’s the Homecoming parade, but the high school puts that on, so it doesn’t make sense for us to get involved,” I say, and her face falls. “What if we create one?”
“Okay. What do you have in mind?”
“What if we did a harvest festival? Plenty of towns have something similar, so it’ll be easy to sell.
Most of Kalomish is united against the developments right now, and I don’t want to lose that.
This could help keep people connected.” I pause, thinking.
“If we’re going to sell it as a harvest festival, we should hold it in late September or early October.
That’d give us five or six weeks to work together openly, which is enough to make dating afterward believable.
Plus, it’ll give everyone a chance to see you as part of Kalomish again, instead of as someone who left. ” I nod. “It’s a good plan.”
“I don’t want a second job, Tre. Just a cover story.”
“Please. I’m going to get tons of people working on this. All we’ll have to do is keep the ideas flowing and coordinate everybody. It’ll be great!”
“Do you really think the city council is going to approve a new festival? Especially if it’s your idea?” Fiona asks, frowning. “Jacob hates you, and the rest of them follow his lead.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Jacob. I’ll work around him.
Same as always,” I tell her with a shrug.
“There’s no reason to change tactics now.
I’ll spread the word and get everyone excited first. Then we’ll make it official after the town’s already behind it.
You can even pipe up in the next town hall about how you think it’s ‘such a great community-building idea,’” I finish with a smirk.
“Alright,” Fiona says, rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling when she does. “I guess that settles that. I’m looking forward to spending the night more than once a month.”
“Yeah, and without being afraid I’ll get arrested for public indecency.”
She shoves my shoulder, grinning, and then stays in my personal space, eyes locked on mine.
“Oh, that reminds me.” I reach into my pocket and dig out a napkin, killing the moment.
“I heard of a house you can rent. You remember Mrs. Walker, the math teacher? Well, she passed a few years ago, and her son owns the house. But he’s a professor over in Eugene, so he rents it out.
You could probably move in whenever you’re ready because it’s been available for a couple of months. ”
“I’m amazed you found something already.”
“Yeah, I haven’t had much time, so it’s just the one. Sorry. I’ll keep looking and let you know of anything else in case that doesn’t work out.”
The bell above the door rings as I walk out from the rear of the diner carrying a stack of freshly washed plates.
“Hey. You can grab a—” I stop dead in my tracks. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
Richard Alan White the Second, as he likes to be called—or Junior, as I prefer to think of him—stands in the doorway surveying the diner.
He’s got two inches and probably fifty pounds on me.
He’s making no effort to hide his opinion, with his brow furrowed and a slight sneer on his face.
At three-forty in the afternoon on a Wednesday, he’s the only other person here besides Jackie, who’s having a meal in the back.
The lunch crowd is long gone, and it’s way too early for dinner.
I set the plates down on the nearest surface and wait for a response.
“I haven’t been in here in years. Looks exactly the same as it used to.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment,” he snaps.