by Ciana Stone
"Of course," Lula agreed.
Mercy returned to the house just as Naomie walked out. "Okay, you all look like kids about to sneak a bottle of booze from the bar. What's up?"
Lula quickly gave Naomie a summary of what happened. "Whoa, that's next level. I hate I missed out."
"Pardon?" Mathias asked.
"On seeing a spirit. I'd love to have seen her."
"Well, stick around. Chances are, she's going to be around the rest of the day."
"And I'm betting you're going to be nudging Mercy to get info out of Nellie Mae?"
"You know me well for not having known me long," Lula admitted.
"Birds of a feather, girl. So, what comes after you get the scoop from Nellie Mae?"
"Then we go find Nanette."
"You know I'm going with you, right?"
Lula smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Chapter Twenty
Lincoln parked in front of the garage door, making note of the lights shining from the kitchen window. He climbed off the bike and stretched. He'd pushed it to get back to Cotton Creek before Thanksgiving was over. A quick check of the time told him it was probably about time for the evening meal of left-overs.
He walked up the steps to the door, tapped and then opened it. "Happy Thanksgiving."
"Uncle Lincoln!" Kaylee ran across the room, and he caught her as she launched herself at him.
"Hey Rug Rat." He hugged her. "Having a good Thanksgiving?"
"Yes!" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "We had four kinds of pie and brownies, and a ghost came to see us."
"Well, that sounds like a heck of a day. Any chance you have some of that pie left?"
"Sure. We're getting ready for supper. You want to eat with us?"
"I'd love to."
"Good!" She wiggled out of his arms. "I'm glad you're home. I hope you make Miss Lula smile again." With that, she ran out of the room, and Lincoln looked over at Mercy and Reese who were pulling leftovers from the refrigerator.
"Happy Thanksgiving, ladies."
"Same to you, Lincoln," Mercy said and smiled.
Reese sounded far less friendly. "Surprised to see you. Everyone thought you were long gone."
"I haven't been gone that long."
"Long enough." Her tone conveyed the message loud and clear. "Excuse me, I'm going to go take drink orders."
Lincoln watched her leave. She nearly collided with Wiley. "You're back," Wiley stated the obvious and smiled. "I'm glad."
"Well, that makes one person who is."
"Look, you've got to expect a certain amount—" The sound of Molly screaming Wiley's name had Wiley and Mercy racing for the family room. Lincoln followed and noticed the front door closing as he entered. He recognized Lula and Naomie and hurried after them.
"Lula, wait."
She looked back but didn't stop, so he moved faster and managed to get in front of her. "Not the time, dude," Naomie said.
"I need to talk to you," Lincoln ignored Naomie.
"We have nothing to talk about," Lula said and sidestepped him. "Come on, Naomie."
Lincoln followed them to the car and put his hand on the passenger door to keep Lula from opening it as Naomie got into the driver's seat.
"Will, you just give me five minutes?"
"For what?"
"To explain?"
"Oh, explain. You mean extend the courtesy to you that you refused me before you ran off? I don't think so."
"Lula, if you'd just—"
"I said no. Now get out of my way, or should I call Wiley and Mathias and ask them to move you?"
"Fine." He stepped back out of her way and watched them drive off before he returned inside.
It didn't take long to figure out that Molly was in labor. Everyone was excited, concerned and the level of noise from the chatter was almost deafening. Lincoln backtracked to the kitchen, snagged a beer from the refrigerator and walked out to take a seat on the patio.
A few seconds later, Mathias joined him. "Good to see you."
"Likewise," Lincoln said. "Although, I get the distinct impression I'm on more than one shit-list."
Mathias smiled and nodded. "That's a fair assumption. Did you expect differently?"
"No. I deserve it."
"Yeah, you do."
"Well, thanks, it's nice to know I have friends."
"Don't. You know damn well you do, but a friend is honest, and you weren't fair to her. You judged—misjudged her and never bothered to stop and consider that maybe what you saw was her being surprised by a guy who acted inappropriately and without invitation."
"And is that what I saw?"
"It's just as possible as the conclusion you jumped to. But that's for you to discover and come to terms with. All I can say is that regardless of the family and friends you have here, people care about Lula. She's honest and kind and caring, and it's been tough seeing her so hurt."
Mathias stood. "But you know, people get over things and move on. I'm gonna go see if Reese is ready to go. Glad your home, bro. Be seeing you."
Lincoln watched Mathias leave, leaned back and stared up at the sky. This homecoming was every bit as miserable as he'd feared. The question was, how did he start to mend fences and which fence did he begin with?
*****
Lula passed the joint to Naomie as she exhaled a plume of smoke. "I wish he hadn't come back." She stared up at the endless sky of stars above them where they sat on the small deck of her house.
Naomie dragged deeply on the joint twice before returning it. "This is kick-ass pot. I'm surprised you smoke, though. Don't you get drug tested?"
"Depends on the assignment. Undercover gigs offer more leniency. And I do love me some weed, girl."
Naomie laughed, coughed and accepted the joint again. "Amen."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. "What was your first thought when you saw him?" Naomie asked.
"I don't know. Part of me wanted to run to him, and another part wanted to knock the holy shit out of him. I thought I was getting past it, you know? I mean it still hurts, but I'd accepted it was over. And with him gone, it was getting easier.
"Now...shit, now I don't even want to think about it. About him."
"About being with him? It was good, wasn't it?"
"Dear God was it," Lula could admit that. "He knows how to touch a woman, you know? I mean, I know he's more accustomed to being on the receiving end, and he digs the hell out of that, but still, he knows how to be a good lover and I mean, an A-plus."
"Yeah, you're right, let's not talk about that. My love life is about as exciting as Netta's."
"Only because you choose it to be that way."
"Not true."
"Oh?" Lula angled in her lounge chair. "Are you sure? I've seen you and him together, remember and I know how he looks at you. Russell Walker is as hot for you as you are him. What I don't get is why you're so all mighty determined not to go there."
"Okay, let me ask you this? Have you ever had the hots for someone you worked with? Better yet, someone you worked for?"
That question hit a nerve. "Yeah, I have."
"And?"
Lula shook her head. "I almost screwed up and let it go there."
"Then you know. There are some lines you can't cross."
"Yeah, I hear ya and girl, I do know where you are. Back when it was my turn, I wanted to cross that line. Wanted it bad."
"What stopped you?"
"A lot of things. He wasn't my boss, but he was someone—important, and there could come a day I would have worked for him or maybe his family. And he had a family. A wife and a daughter. As much as I wanted him, I didn't want to be someone who would cause him to cheat."
"You think he would have?"
Lula shrugged. "He didn't, so no, I guess not. We had our moment, and we let it pass, and I think because of that, we became close. Closer than we would have been if we'd slept together."
"Do you ever think of him?"
"O
f course. He helped shape me into who I am now, and he's a great man. Seriously great."
"Great as in Richard Walker?"
Lula couldn't have been more surprised. "What would make you think that?"
"The way you and he looked at one another when he introduced you to Russell. I remember thinking there was history between the two of you. Lots of energy."
"History. Just history and nothing happened. Maybe a few kisses, but nothing more."
"I believe you. And between you and me... girl, are those Walker men something or what? Damn."
Lula laughed. "Knowin' girl. Even though I don't have any desire for Dillon, he's still hot as a match."
"I can't believe you don't want to take a bite of that."
"Yeah, color me crazy. Maybe one day I won't close my eyes and feel that swell of longing inside for Thor, but that day isn't today. And damn, I'm done with this conversation, so switching gears—what do you think about the information Mercy got from Nellie Mae?"
"I think the ghost is definitely Nellie Mae's sister. And I've been thinking about the clues. She was looking for spiral shells, right?"
"Yes."
"And at the time she went missing, Nellie Mae's family lived not far from here. Netta told me that. That big old house just before you turn off the hard surface road to come here? You've seen it. The one on the right."
"Yeah, I know it."
"That was where she grew up. So, it stands to reason that she and her siblings probably played around here, swam in the lake and what not. And I remember reading about a variety of freshwater snails that are common to the lakes here, so maybe she was gathering shells from the lakeshore."
"Okay, that makes sense. But the part about ending up in the dark?"
"How about an old well or cave entrance or-or I don't know. Grab your laptop and let's Google. Have I mentioned that I'm a world class Googler?"
Lula laughed as she got up to go fetch the laptop. Seeing Lincoln had affected her more than she wanted to admit. All the feelings she'd been trying to forget, good and bad, were now pounding at her and she needed a distraction. She was grateful to Naomie for coming home with her to spend the night and help solve the mystery.
Two hours and another joint later, they were both excited. There were several old homesites within a few miles of Lula's place, along with an old logging camp that had been in use back in the 1800's that was now a ghost town.
"But we need to focus on the places closest to the water, first, don't you think?" Namoie asked.
"I guess, but hold on. Remember, she was going to look for the shells, and something happened to her, so maybe we should start at the places close to her home, but on a route, she'd take to the lake."
"Good thinking. Let's have another look at the map."
Lula's phone rang, and she picked it up. "Lincoln," she said as she hit the ignore button.
"You don't want to talk to him?"
"And say what? That I'm hurt and pissed and feel betrayed? That I wish we could start over? Oh no, how about, oh and I hooked up with the Coach."
"But you didn't. Not really."
"Only he can't know that, can he?"
"Maybe. You can ask Russ—Mr. Walker."
"That's hard, isn't it? Calling him mister when what you really want to call him is—"
"Don't even go there."
"I'm sorry. I know it kind of sucks."
"No one said life is fair, and besides he made it plain that he's too old for me."
"That's such a load of crap."
"I think so, too, but he does have children my age so..."
"I get it. And he probably figures you'd kill him if you had sex."
Naomie laughed. "You think he's that ancient?"
"No girl, I'm betting you're that dynamic. Anyway, look here, there are two places between Nanette's childhood home and the lake. We should check those out in the morning."
"Sounds good to me. Okay, I'm done. Where do I sleep?"
"The guest room is all set up. First door on the right after the laundry room."
"Okay. See you in the morning."
"Sleep well. And thank you. I mean it."
"It's called being a friend, sugar." Naomie kissed the top of Lula's head. "Good night."
"Night." Lula leaned back and closed her eyes. A cool waft of air, cooler than typical, had her opening her eyes.
There stood Nanette. "We're going to help you, Nanette. Me and my friend, Naomie. We're going to check some places in the morning, and with luck, we'll find you. And when we do, we'll let Nellie Mae know. She still loves you, you know, and she never stopped missing you or hoping she'd find out what happened to you."
I'm tired of the dark. I want to go, Miss Lula. I want to go to the light, but first, you have to find me and find my sister's Christmas present.
"Wait!" Lula reached for the spirit, even knowing full well, she'd touch nothing. "Don't go. What do you mean find her present? Did you find what you wanted before something happened? Nanette, please."
It was no use. Nanette was gone. Lula sat beneath the stars, thinking about the sad spirit of the child, and how her life had been cut short. She'd never known what it felt like to fall in love, be heartbroken, have a family or grow old.
That thought brought home a new wash of pain and longing. Lula didn't want to spend her life alone. She wanted to have a mate and children she could watch grow. She wanted to grow old with the man she loved, be a grandmother and spend her life enjoying the people around her.
And she wanted that with Lincoln. The problem was, she no longer trusted him. He'd already trampled on her heart and basically showed with his actions that he had no respect for her. It was like a knife in her heart that he thought her so capable of cheating on him.
How could he not have seen her any clearer than that? And how in the world was she ever going to be able to tell him the truth as long as she kept this assignment?
One thing was for dead sure. Her life was a red hot mess.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was mid-afternoon, and they were both, hot, tired and sweaty. This was the fourth place on the map they'd drawn, and if they didn't find something here, Lula was ready to call it quits for the day, go home, guzzle a gallon of water and then throw herself in the lake.
"This is kind of creepy," Naomie commented as they made their way through the thick bramble toward the old dilapidated structure. "And where's Nanette? You'd think she could show up long enough to give us a "warm, no colder, colder, you're getting warmer" kind of thing."
Lula couldn't help smiling at the way Naomie phrased it. The truth was, she was beginning to wonder why Nanette wasn't making an appearance. "Hey, Naomie, look at this. It looks like there's a hole in the floor beneath this collapsed wall."
Naomie walked over to look as Lula took a step on one of the boards. "I don't think you should—"
The crack of wood came a split second before Lula felt everything under her foot shift. "No!" She screamed as Naomie rushed to her aid.
The board and everything beneath it gave way and down they both went. Lula felt the air whoosh out of her as boards, and pieces of wood rained down on them, and they tumbled into darkness. She hit something and was bounced to one side and then slammed into wet, cold muck.
A second later, Naomie landed on her legs. Something hit Lula in the head, and after a bright flash of light, everything went dark.
Naomie groaned as she tried to sit. Pain shot down her right leg all the way to her toes. She put her hand on her thigh and jerked it back. Once she'd gotten her breath and summoned her courage, she felt again.
This time the sound that came from her mouth was a scared whimper, which annoyed the living hell out of her. She couldn't let fear control her, but dear God there was a piece of wood stabbed all the way through her leg. She had to figure out how bad it was bleeding and if it'd struck an artery.
After a few minutes of examination that had her nearly screaming in pain, Naomie determined, or guessed, a
s was more correct, that based on the amount of blood on her jeans no major vessels had been compromised. As long as they got out of here soon and got help she'd be fine.
Wait! Where was Lula?
That's when she realized she had Lula pinned to the ground beneath her. That gave her the impetus to scoot unevenly until she was rested on cold mud. "Lula. Lula." Naomie shook her but got no response. There was enough light filtering down for her to see blood marring the side of Lula's face all the way up the side of her head.
"Lula, wake up girl. You need to wake up."
Lula didn't move, blink or make a sound. Naomie checked her pulse. It was slow but steady, and her breathing didn't seem to be impaired. There were no other signs of bleeding. Mentally crossing her fingers that Lula would soon wake, Naomie turned her attention to their surroundings.
They must have fallen into an old basement. There were once walls, but the wood had long since rotted and fallen away. A couple of support posts still existed, as did the cross beams that supported what was left of the floor. One look at that had Naomie even more eager to get the hell out of Dodge. Those beams were rotten and already split. One could give way at any moment, and the rest of what was above them would come tumbling down.
The rotten boards that had collapsed would be of no use, so she ruled out trying to fashion some type of steps or handholds. Could they fashion foot and hand holds from the dirt inside of the hole? It looked pretty wet, so chances were that wouldn't work either.
Okay, think, Naomie, think. She looked around then felt like smacking herself in the head. Dumb ass. She quickly felt for her phone and worked it free from her back pocket. One look at the screen had her wanting to cry. It was badly cracked. But phones could still work with cracked screens.
She tried the screen operations. Nothing. Her next attempt was the emergency functions. Still nothing. Naomie stared at the screen. She was smart, she could figure something out. That was thought one. Thought two was less optimistic. There was not even a full bar of signal.
Damn, damn, damn. What the hell was she going to do? A groan from Lula claimed her attention.
"Are you okay?" Naomie took Lula's hand. "Talk to me, Lula."
