While Lucy browsed for magazines, Mel snuck another peak at the cut. It was still hot to the touch and the redness was spreading, but the wound didn’t seem to be weeping at all. In fact, the cut was nearly healed, which was more than a little puzzling. To be truthful, her whole body felt… different; tingling as if each individual cell was up to something. A dull headache had been her constant companion for the past two days as well, and she had the strangest feeling of paranoia; as if there was someone else was in her head and privy to her thoughts.
She popped another pain killer and loosened her collar as a wave of heat came over her again. Wiping her brow with a trembling hand, she pasted a smile on her face when Lucy re-appeared with two coffees and several magazines.
“Here, this will make you feel better. It’s one of those special blends you always talk about.” Lucy sat down beside her, pressing a cup into Mel’s hands.
Mel thanked her and took a sip, waiting for the familiar rush that only a good cup of coffee could bring. The rush, unfortunately, was more of fizzle and she sighed heavily. Just her luck, the first cup of coffee back in civilization and it was a dud. Resignedly, she continued to drink the beverage, wondering if it was the fever that was making the coffee taste different or if the upscale coffee chain had managed to mess up one of her favourite drinks.
After what seemed like an interminable time, their flight was called. Mel stood, pleased that she’d had to change from her original Saturday flight to the one on Friday—Saturday’s hadn’t been able to accommodate Lucy. The thought of being home in familiar surroundings seemed immensely comforting and the sooner she was back in Chicago the better.
Boarding went smoothly, thank goodness, no one even giving her more than a cursory glance as she settled into her seat. As the flight took off, Mel closed her eyes and idly listened to Lucy chattering away. The pain killers had taken effect and she was pleasantly fuzzy headed. It actually took her a few moments to realize that Lucy had finally grown quiet. Opening her eyes and turning her head, she noticed the other woman was frowning and nibbling on her lip.
“What’s the matter?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” Lucy looked away, but Mel could tell something was wrong. The other woman was seldom quiet for long.
“Come on, tell me. Are you feeling air sick? Because if you are—”
“No! No… It’s just… well… I was wondering what he was up to.”
“Ryne?” Mel sat up straighter. Why was Lucy thinking about Ryne? Hadn’t she been assured there was nothing between them?
“No! Armand.”
“Armand?” Mel couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. She hadn’t been expecting that.
“Yeah. He was sort of upset that I was leaving.”
“I thought you said he was okay with you taking time off?”
“He was… It’s just that when I went to leave, he… well… he kissed me.”
“Oh.” Mel absorbed the information. “And… ?”
“Armand’s never kissed me before.” Lucy picked at an invisible piece of lint that must have been resting on her pant leg.
“You mean, you and he never… ?”
Lucy made a wry face. “Nope. We never.”
“But I thought you said you’d… well… you know… with everyone.”
“Well, almost everyone, but not Armand. I’ve teased him and ignored him and practically thrown myself at him, but he never responded. I’d actually wondered if he might be gay or celibate or something, but now, I don’t know what to think!”
Mel sat back and frowned. “Gee Lucy, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe he’s had a secret crush on you all this time.”
“Then why did he have to wait until I was leaving to do something about it?” Lucy folded her arms, her face a study of consternation.
“Well… maybe he needed the idea of you leaving to shake him up a bit.”
“I don’t know… I suppose it’s a possibility.”
Studying her friend’s face, Mel watched the myriad of emotions that passed over it. Hmm… it appeared that Lucy had a crush on the bearish man but now that he seemed to be finally returning her interest, she didn’t know what to do about it, especially given the timing .“How would you feel about it, if Armand had his eye on you?”
Lucy furrowed her brow, considering the idea. “I’m not sure. For years I’ve been saying that I want out of Stump River so I can make a fresh start, but then again Armand is really good to me… ” She gave a confused whimper. “I just don’t know.”
“Well, this week away might be the perfect time to get things in perspective.”
“Yeah, maybe so.” Lucy was silent for a moment, before turning the tables on her companion. “And how do you feel about leaving Ryne?”
“Ryne?” Mel snorted and turned away, folding her arms across her chest then wincing as her arm protested the motion. “I don’t want to ever see him again. He’s nothing but a lying bastard.” Something inside her quivered as she spoke the words, almost as if part of her was protesting the thought, which was ridiculous. After the way he’d treated her, the things he’d said; nothing could redeem him in her eyes.
“Ouch! Is all that anger just over him backing out of the interview?”
“Yes… No… Some of it is and some of it is because of stuff he said.” Mel took a quivering breath as the hurt she felt bubbled to the surface. “He said I was only moderately entertaining and that… well… I wasn’t worth very much in bed.”
“Ryne said that?” Lucy looked aghast. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s not the sort of thing I’d imagine.”
“No… Of course not, but… there must have been a reason. Ryne’s not usually quite that rude. He isn’t exactly what people would call refined, but usually he’s a decent guy.”
“Not with me, he isn’t.” Mel glowered at the back of the seat in front of her as Ryne’s words echoed in her head.
“Well, I wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly what happened, but I bet there’s something else going on. Something we don’t know about that made him act that way.”
Mel shook her head, unwilling to hear anything that might exonerate the man. Lucy sighed and turned away, probably realizing that her companion wasn’t in a receptive mood. A silence fell between them and Mel became lost in thought over recent events. It kept her occupied for the remainder of the flight but by the time they landed in Chicago, she had no clear answers as to what demon had made Ryne act as he did. From the look on Lucy’s face, the other woman hadn’t been successful in her musings, either.
Suppressing a derisive snort, Mel stiffly rose from her seat and prepared to depart the plane. Wasn’t this just fine and dandy. Here she and Lucy were ready for an exciting week together exploring Chicago, and instead of planning girl friend fun, they’d spent the last few hours dwelling on the men they’d left several hundred miles away.
*****
They survived the wait at Immigration and even found their luggage with minimal difficulty. Luck continued to be with them as they easily got a taxi-cab and headed towards their destination—her apartment. Lucy enjoyed the ride, exclaiming over the large buildings, multi-laned highways, and throngs of people. By time the trip came to an end, even the taciturn driver was smiling over her enthusiasm. As they climbed out of the cab, Mel was uncomfortably aware that her neighbourhood was going to be a let-down for her friend. The rundown buildings, weedy cracked sidewalks and the constant rumble from the nearby public transit was quite a change from Stump River. However, Lucy either didn’t care or notice, instead chattering about what she hoped to do during her visit.
After climbing the stairs—the elevator was out of order again—Mel unlocked her apartment door and pushed it open. Stale air wafted into their faces, only slightly more pleasant than the scent in the hallway, where the smell of boiled cabbage was predominant.
“Here we are, home sweet home.” Mel ushered Lucy inside and shut the door, automatically chaining it, and turning t
he various locks.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many locks on a door. Do you use them all the time?” Lucy stared in apparent amazement.
Mel nodded. “Yep. This isn’t the safest of neighbourhoods. The crime rate is high; theft, drugs, assaults… You can’t be too careful.”
“But what about the people next door? What if they want to pop in for a visit? All that locking and unlocking must get tiring.”
“Lucy, quite frankly I don’t even know the names of the people next door… ” She paused and then qualified her answer. “Well, I do know one person’s name but that’s only because I hear the woman calling it out when they’re… ”
“Having sex? You can hear that? Ew!” Lucy wrinkled her nose and Mel laughed at her obvious distaste.
“Yeah. I agree. The walls are pretty thin, but the rent’s cheap.” Mel flopped down on the sofa and closed her eyes. Travelling was tiring at the best of times and this infection, or whatever was wrong with her, seemed to be draining all her energy. If she didn’t feel better by morning, she’d have to go to a clinic; there went more money she didn’t have.
“You look all done in, Mel. Why don’t you go to bed? I can take care of myself.”
Forcing her eyes open, she tried to sound perky for the sake of her guest. “No. I invited you to come with me. Just let me rest for a few minutes and then I’ll head to the corner store and get some groceries.”
Lucy folded her arms and raised her brows. “Nonsense. You rest. I can go out. It’ll be my first adventure in Chicago.”
It was a short lived argument and soon Mel was lying in bed while Lucy left to purchase food. The cool sheets felt good against her hot skin and she began to relax, enjoying the first bit of peace and quiet she’d experienced in several days.
Her eyes drifted shut only to snap open when she heard a voice beside her. Startled, she sat up and looked around, but no one was there. Grumbling about noisy neighbours, she glared at the adjoining walls. She debated banging on the plastered surface but knew from previous experience it would do little good. Instead she flopped back down and put the pillow over her head, determined to get some rest. A moment later, the voice spoke again, the murmuring indistinguishable, yet definitely nearby. Mel stiffened, feeling the hairs rising on the back of her neck. There was definitely someone speaking, another presence close at hand. Slowly she removed the pillow from her face and glanced nervously about, trying to determine the source. It wasn’t coming from the walls or the dead clock-radio beside her bed, yet there was no doubt she was hearing a voice. A shiver ran over her as she recalled the dubious stain that had been on the carpet when she’d moved in. Had it been blood? Was her apartment haunted?
As soon as the idea popped into her head, she scoffed at her own foolishness. No, she wasn’t going down that road again, not after what happened last time at Ryne’s house. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on the sound. Hmm… It seemed to be… inside her head? But how could that be?
She tugged on her ear and gave her head a shake before listening again. There! It was definitely a voice! Furrowing her brow she tried to decipher what was being said, but the sound faded away to nothing. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the voice was gone. Mel swallowed and pushed her hair from her face with a shaking hand. Was she losing her mind? No. Of course, not. She was overtired, that was all. Rest was what she needed.
Latching onto the idea like a lifeline, Mel forced herself to calm down. Plumping her pillows, she wiggled into a comfortable position, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. No voices resounded in her head. A relieved smile crept onto her face. Yep, overtired, that’s all it was. Her muscles relaxed and she sank into the softness of her mattress. Sleep, glorious sleep… everything was calm and quiet… she was just on the edge… drifting away… Darn! The phone rang and her eyes popped open.
Well, she wasn’t getting up to answer it. Whoever was on the line could just leave a message. She rolled onto her side and firmly shut her eyes again. Unfortunately, as much as she tried to ignore it, Mel’s curiosity clicked in and she couldn’t help but strain to hear who was calling when the machine turned on. Aldrich’s supercilious voice filled the room.
“Ms. Greene? Pick up the phone… ..” Immediately, she identified the voice as belonging to Mr. Aldrich. He huffed when she didn’t comply. “I know you’re home. You can pretend you aren’t, but rest assured I have my sources… . Fine. Play games if you wish, but I’ll still expect you at my office at ten o’clock tomorrow morning with a complete report. No excuses, unless you’re prepared to face legal proceedings for the return of the funds advanced to you. And make no mistake; I have the papers here on my desk, ready to be filed. By time I’m done with you, you won’t have a penny left.”
Mel groaned. Wasn’t this just great. How had the man known she was home? It hadn’t been three hours since she’d stepped off the plane. He must have spies at the airport. Well, it was fine and dandy for him to want a report, but there wasn’t one! Mr. Ryne-pain-in-the-ass-Taylor had only given her the most meagre details about himself. All she really knew was how he took pictures. How in heaven’s name was she supposed to write a report when the only information she had…
Hmm… Mel nibbled on her lip as she considered a possible solution. Those pictures from Ryne’s camera were still on her computer. While she’d never looked at them, she hadn’t dumped the recycle bin, either. Maybe… Dragging herself out of bed, she found her laptop and turned it on. If she studied the pictures carefully enough, she might be able to gather enough information to satisfy Aldrich, at least for a while. What Greyson would think of the report was another story since she’d never dealt with him in person, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
Opening the picture file, she leaned close to study the images trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over her. Ryne hadn’t wanted her looking at these. Mel hesitated, glancing around her apartment. The furniture was old, the decorations cheap; it wasn’t much, but it was all she had. The thought of losing everything she owned gave her a sinking feeling—what would it be like to start over, with absolutely nothing?
She furrowed her brow. Surely, Ryne was over-reacting. Letting the world know a little bit about his life wasn’t such a bad thing. Still trying to convince herself that she wasn’t doing anything that wrong, Mel began to analyze the images on the screen.
*****
It was four in the morning. Mel rubbed her gritty eyes and then arched her back before clicking on save. The report—such as it was—was complete. She’d read it over again in the morning before printing, but didn’t think there was much else she could add to it.
By examining the pictures on her laptop and noting their sequence, she’d been able to piece together a plausible background for Ryne. Much of it was supposition, but if the man didn’t grant interviews, who would ever know? And there were some concrete facts. His work on cars and the restoration of that house were facts. He’d mentioned running, and by the look of his lean muscled body—she suppressed the physical response the image invoked—he must be into fitness. The photography lessons he’d given her had provided insight into his techniques and even his street-crossing lessons with Harley showed a love of animals. Mel was actually rather impressed with herself over what she’d managed to piece together.
In some places, she had really stretched things. A picture of an older couple in front of a large house had her writing that he had a large extended family, and wanted a big family himself one day. After all, she reasoned, why would he have purchased that oversized monstrosity outside Stump River, if he was going to live there all alone?
Their dinner at Armand’s had allowed her to state that he enjoyed life’s simple pleasures; cold beer, time spent with friends and a good movie… Her more ‘personal’ experiences with him, and his sexual prowess, however, were definitely not included. Some things just weren’t meant to be shared!
The piece de resistance of the whole report was her deduction reg
arding where Ryne took his pictures. Mel knew that for some reason Greyson was extremely interested in that point and felt he’d be pleased with her sleuthing. The background, clothing, numbering of the pictures and even the weather, led her to believe all were taken on the same day somewhere near Smythston, Oregon. Even more exciting was the fact that in one picture, she was sure she saw wolves in the distance. The image was fuzzy, but unmistakeably some form of canine. If Greyson was looking for where a certain wolf picture had originated, she was sure she’d found his answer.
Just to cover herself, she’d generalized that while Ryne worked mostly in the Oregon area, he never revealed exact locations. This, she said, was because of his great commitment to the environment and his desire to prevent people from disturbing the delicate balance of nature in the places he worked. It was a bit sappy, but any person who claimed ‘they didn’t exist before photography’ could very well say something like her final statement.
Mel stared at the picture that had wolves in the distance. Something niggled in her brain when she looked at it, as if there was something she should know or remember. Unfortunately, the harder she tried to bring the thought into focus, the more it faded away. With a sigh, she gave up and shut down the computer. She was too tired to think. Maybe in the morning she’d be able to figure out what it was about that picture that called to her.
Yawning, Mel stood up, hoping the sketchy report would satisfy Aldrich and get him to leave her alone for a while. Heading towards the couch—she’d told Lucy to sleep in her room—she shed her robe and lay down, intent on getting a few hours sleep before going to see the lawyer. As she tried to get comfortable on the old and lumpy couch, she bemusedly realized that at some point during the night, her fever had broken. Thank heavens for small mercies.
Chapter 31
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Lucy stared at Mel with a frown. “You still don’t look so good.”
The two women were leaning against the kitchen counter sipping coffee and preparing to start their day. Mel, however reluctantly, had to head off to meet with Aldrich, while Lucy was going to spend the morning taking a bus tour of the city that Mel had recommended.
The Keeping Page 32
