Lucy's Chance

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Lucy's Chance Page 7

by Jackie D


  She called Diego and filled him in, and he offered to call and update the family on what they had found. She was grateful for the assistance. She was never very good at that part of the job, whereas Diego had a natural ability to calm people. The tow truck arrived quickly, and Erica watched diligently as the operator hooked up the car, wanting to make sure no evidence could be compromised as he pulled it up onto the back of the truck. She had placed evidence tape over the doors, ensuring they would only be opened upon processing. Nothing could be processed until the next day when the staff came in, but maybe there was something. Whoever had taken Jessica had clearly been in the car, and she hoped they left something behind.

  The other police officer pulled in front of the tow truck to escort him back to the station. Erica looked at her watch. It was a little after eleven. She could go back to the station and start going over the old case files, but she’d rather do that with Diego. Two sets of eyes were always better than one, especially in this instance.

  She decided the best course of action would be to go home, get some rest, and start back at it the next day. She was just going to make one stop. She wanted to go back to Junior’s and observe the staff. Jessica was a regular at the establishment, and it appeared the same was true for Claudia. Maybe if she sat there for a bit as a guest instead of a police officer asking questions, she’d be able to notice something that could help. It would also help take her mind off Lucy, a ghost stirring up all kinds of stuff she wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  * * *

  “Your mom’s cooking is seriously off the charts.” Grayson flopped down on her bed, arms out.

  “We ate hours ago.”

  Holly jumped up on his stomach and turned two circles before lying down in a ball on top of him. “I know, and I still can’t get over it. Think I can talk her into sending me home with some?”

  Lucy closed her laptop. “I’m sure it would be the highlight of her month.”

  “Let’s go out.” He rolled onto his side, widening his eyes at her.

  Lucy stroked Bella’s head. The giant marshmallow had sat down next to her and flopped her head on her lap. “There’s nowhere to go out here. Not the way you’re used to, anyway.”

  “I want to experience the local culture.” He smiled.

  “Ha! That won’t take long.”

  “Come on, Lucky! Please.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why did you just call me Lucky?”

  He sat up, clearly excited to reveal what he had learned. “I happen to know that was your nickname when you were a kid. Your dad still calls you that when he talks about all your achievements. Did you know he still has every award you ever won hanging in his office? I mean, like, every one. I even saw a participant ribbon for soccer in there.”

  “Soccer wasn’t my thing.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that because the award said Participant and not First Place.”

  “I get it.”

  “It wasn’t even a second place ribbon.”

  “I understand.”

  “I mean, I could even understand a third place.”

  She threw the pillow at him. “I’d love to find your off switch one day.”

  “Oh, honey, get in line.” He threw the pillow back. “I know it’s your nickname, but he didn’t tell me why.”

  “I shouldn’t even tell you after all that.”

  “But you will because you like the name. I could tell when I said it.”

  “I was called Lucky Lucy because I was a bit of a klutz growing up. If there was something to trip on, I would. If there was even the slightest chance I’d hit my head on something, you could be sure I’d find a way. I once got so mad at my brother that I tried to throw my doll at him, but it caught on my shirt and I ended up not only ripping my shirt but hitting myself in the head with the doll, too.”

  His laughter started out quiet and then turned into a deep, full stomach cackle. “It’s just so adorable you keep telling these stories like they’re past tense.”

  “I’m not nearly as bad as I used to be.”

  He blinked at her a few times and started laughing again. “Okay, just today, I watched you walk straight into a glass door because you thought it was a push and not pull.”

  “That could happen to anyone.”

  “Then you pulled the door open and hit yourself in the face.”

  She reached down and stroked Bella’s face. “Don’t listen to him, Bella.” Her tail thumped up and down at the mention of her name.

  He was still laughing on the bed when she grabbed a sweatshirt out of her suitcase. “Let’s go out and have a drink so I can listen to you make fun of someone besides me.”

  She wasn’t only in search of a distraction. She wanted to use this opportunity to do a bit of work. Diego and Erica had been at Junior’s earlier that day because they thought it was a possible link. She had worked with police officers long enough to know they wouldn’t just hand out information to the press without purpose. If the murder of Claudia Ramos was tied to the missing person case, she wanted her hands on the information and leads. Even if she had to dig them up herself.

  Chapter Twelve

  Erica couldn’t remember the last time she was in a bar on a Saturday night. Junior’s was crowded, people were loud, drunk, and all over the place. Although, if there was an upside, she was grateful for the good cover it created. It was easy to sit in the corner of the bar, sip her beer, and just observe.

  It was pretty easy to tell who was there for what reason. She could pinpoint the group of men looking for a quick hookup, as well as the women who were looking for the same interaction. She could tell who was there for a girls’ night out, with no intention of going home with anyone but the friends they had come with. Then, there were the people who looked like regulars. They probably came on their own, with the intention of just running into people they knew. The couples were looking to change up their date night routines. Everyone seemed to fit nicely into their little categories. But where did that leave her?

  She realized she recognized quite a few people in the bar, because most she had gone to high school with. They had stayed in Clearbrook to raise families or they’d gotten jobs nearby and never left. She wanted to go say hello, almost longing for a normal connection, but then she’d reveal she was there. If the killer was here, in this bar, the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to the fact that a police officer was nearby. No, she needed to stay as incognito as possible. Best-case scenario was that Jessica was still alive and they would be able to find her before it was too late.

  She ran her finger up the side of the sweating glass, watching the condensation flow over her finger. It was peculiar, this sudden need to feel a connection. She hadn’t felt it for quite some time. Erica was accustomed to being alone, and she rather liked it that way. She was able to come and go as she pleased, and she didn’t worry about checking in with anyone. She didn’t worry about the late nights she had to work upsetting someone, either. But now, she felt a piece missing she didn’t recognize. An emptiness that left her feeling hollow.

  Then the air seemed to shift, and she heard Lucy’s voice before she saw her. Or maybe it was that she felt her presence, which she’d always been attuned to. Lucy and her friend Grayson walked directly to the bar and ordered. Grayson was busy glancing around, seemingly taking in the atmosphere. Lucy, however, barely looked up. Erica was surprised that after all this time, she still recognized her facial expressions for what they were, a mirror of what she was feeling. Like her, Lucy seemed to be a bit out of place, ill at ease among people they’d both known a billion years ago. Lucy had never been very good at hiding her emotions, and that attribute hadn’t changed in their years apart.

  It had been twelve years since Lucy had essentially ripped Erica’s heart from her chest and left it lying outside her body. When Erica had driven home that night from UC San Diego, she kept touching her chest, surprised there wasn’t a physical hole where her fingers touched. After, Erica had fo
rced herself to get out of bed, to go to classes, go to the gym, but it was all done on autopilot. For months, she spent nights hoping the earth would open up and swallow her whole. Her eyes had burned from the ever-present tears that scorched her cheeks and kept a salty flavor on her lips. Her body had felt heavy, making even the most basic movement painful and forced. It remained, unequivocally, the worst time of her life. She hadn’t almost lost herself during that period of time, she felt as if there was nothing that remained of her. She’d had to rebuild and become a different person altogether.

  From the ashes of Lucy’s breakup, came a methodical construction of rules Erica had lived by ever since. She gave her love interests four months, and not a day more. Four months was long enough to know whether or not she wanted to create a life with someone, and if it wasn’t there, she’d end it. She refused to ever be the Lucy in a relationship, to let someone believe they were her world, when she had no intention of making them the center of her universe.

  One of the women she’d dated had asked her what exactly was she was looking for. She wanted to know what Erica defined as the “it” she was always seeking. Erica hadn’t known what to say at the time, and she was unprepared to slap a definition on the side of her proverbial Holy Grail. But later, she realized it was actually much simpler than people would expect. She wanted genuine intimacy. Not in the physical sense, though that was wonderful too, but she wanted it in the emotional sense. She wanted someone she could say anything to, share her deepest, darkest, and weirdest thoughts with, and have it be okay. Intimacy meant finding someone that would rather die than intentionally hurt the person they loved. It meant putting someone not only before themselves, but everything and everyone else, as well. She wanted to feel, in the deepest and most secret part of her heart, that they could overcome anything. She didn’t want it just as lip service but as something she felt and lived, every day. She wanted to look into someone’s eyes and see herself. She wanted the good, the bad, and everything in between. Anything less wasn’t something she’d waste her time with.

  It had taken Erica two years to recover from Lucy. Two years of therapy, two years of self-examination, two years of asking what-if. And now, here Lucy was again, only fifteen feet away. If anyone had asked Erica a week ago if there were any residual feelings still brewing inside her, she’d have blown off the implication. Until today, when she touched her again, felt her body against her, felt her breath catch at the familiar scent of Lucy’s favorite lotion. Lucy didn’t look the same as she had the night Erica had driven away from that college campus. Yes, her skin was still smooth, warm, and welcoming. Her lips were still full and her eyes were still the color of a dark roast coffee. But there were lines around her eyes now, small creases from years of laughing. Laughing while they had been apart, someone else’s doing. One thing hadn’t changed since she last saw her, though. Lucy was still the most beautiful creature Erica had ever seen.

  Lucy looked up and caught her eye. Erica’s mind was a flurry of questions about why she had come here, what she wanted, and when she’d leave. Yes, she was here to cover a story, but did she actually need to be here to do it? Clearbrook was her town now. Lucy had left it and never looked back. She expected the bubbling in her stomach to be anger, frustration, even annoyance, but that’s not what was simmering.

  She was frustrated that she wanted to ask Lucy a hundred questions. And none of them had to do with anything that would bring Erica a sense of resolution. She wanted to know how she had been, how her job was, and if she was happy. She felt the draw to want to know Lucy again. But why? That would only lead to disappointment, to their inevitable parting. It would lead to Erica hurting all over again, and she wasn’t sure she could handle losing Lucy twice.

  Erica pushed her reflections away as Lucy and Grayson set their glasses down on the table. She wouldn’t let Lucy see the effect she apparently still had on her.

  Grayson spoke first, taking a moment in between the sips from his tiny red straw. “Hey, Erica, seems a bit like fate meeting you here.”

  Erica didn’t want to like him, but she did. He had an easy way about him, a smooth and friendly voice. “It’s the only bar in town, and I’m not an expert on fate, but I don’t think this is it.”

  He crinkled his nose at her. “Spirited…I love it.”

  “Hi.” Lucy’s voice was timid, not like the lively girl she had once known better than herself.

  “Hey. You two out looking for trouble?” Erica tried her best to keep her tone light, joking.

  “Only if your name is trouble.” Grayson winked at her.

  Damn it, she really did like him. “Not that I don’t want to catch up.” She almost choked on the lie. “But I’m kind of working.”

  Grayson looked around. “I need to become a cop. Your job is awesome.”

  It was clearly the wrong thing to say, because it only seemed to pique Lucy’s interest. “You have a lead?”

  “No.” She wasn’t going to divulge anything to a reporter, and their history didn’t matter in this situation. There was a dead college student and another one was missing.

  “Is this like a stakeout? I always wanted to be on a stakeout. Should we get snacks?” Grayson slid a chair up next to her, still sipping on the tiny straw.

  Lucy hadn’t once taken her eyes off of Erica. “You think it’s someone who works here?”

  “I never said that.”

  Lucy leaned closer and Erica could feel her breath on her face. Her hair fell forward and brushed against Erica’s cheek. Erica sipped her beer to keep her mouth busy.

  “No, but you were here earlier, and it looked like you were doing an interview. There’s only one reason you’d be back, drinking alone.”

  Erica already knew Lucy was good at her job. It had been a lifetime since they had last spoken, but that didn’t mean Erica hadn’t kept track of her. She had read her articles, followed her career, and had been proud of her when she had been awarded a Pulitzer. Putting these pieces together wasn’t a stretch, not for Lucy.

  “Maybe I just felt like having a drink in the only bar in town.” She looked between Lucy and Grayson. “Alone.”

  Grayson leaned across her, speaking to Lucy as if she wasn’t there. “I think she wants us to leave.”

  Lucy had rested her hand next to hers. Erica made sure not to move her fingers, scared of what the contact would do to her resolve. “I like him. He’s very intuitive.”

  Grayson put his arm around her. “Don’t forget exceptionally good-looking.”

  Lucy wasn’t deterred. “You know you look less conspicuous sitting here with two people. How about this, everything is off the record.”

  Erica considered the prospect. On the one hand, Lucy was right, having two people with her did make her presence seem more like a night out with friends, rather than a stakeout. On the other, she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend time with Lucy. Claudia’s and Jessica’s faces flashed in her mind. They were more important than any uncomfortable feeling she was currently having, and if it helped her cover to have two people with her, then so be it. “Okay, but off the record.”

  Lucy’s eyes lit up, the same way they always had when she achieved some form of victory. The familiarity burned the back of her throat, leaving her speechless. Erica had, at one time, aspired to be the person who put that look on Lucy’s face. She wanted to make her happy, to be the one to share all of life’s ups and downs. Now, all she was to Lucy was a story she might disclose to new lovers. Or maybe she didn’t mention her at all. Maybe Lucy had closed that chapter of her life, the chapter where Erica had played the primary character. She didn’t want to know the answer.

  * * *

  Lucy took the seat in front of Erica, wanting the gesture to signify her agreement to keep things off the record, making sure she couldn’t track Erica’s line of sight. She still couldn’t believe Erica hadn’t dismissed her immediately. Not for the first time, she was grateful for Grayson. He had a way of easing the situation, making things mo
re comfortable.

  But now that she was actually sitting in front of her, close enough to touch, she wasn’t sure what to say. There hadn’t been a day since they parted ways she hadn’t thought of Erica, wondered how she was doing. Now she had the chance to ask her and she couldn’t form a single sentence. Not a useful or thoughtful one, anyway. “Crazy weather, huh?”

  Erica stared at her. “Not really, pretty typical spring.”

  “How about that rain a few years back?” Grayson joked. “Brutal.”

  Erica smiled at him and she seemed to relax slightly. “What do you do, Grayson?”

  “I perform miracles on hair.”

  Realization flashed in Erica’s expression. “You do Maria’s hair, don’t you?”

  “I do. I used to do it for free, now I want payment in enchiladas. I won’t be making any exceptions.”

  Erica met her eyes, and she wondered if they were having the same memory. Prom night. “She makes a mean enchilada.”

  “So, Chance, I’m going to call you Chance. You seeing anyone?” He chewed on his straw. Lucy felt her face flush. She wanted to know. She had been looking for any indication, and she should’ve expected Grayson to just come out and ask it, but it caught her off-guard all the same. Yes, her mom had mentioned something about Erica dating, but she couldn’t be privy to everything.

  Erica looked at him for a long moment, apparently thinking of her response, which shouldn’t have taken much consideration. There were only two answers to his question, but the pause made Lucy question whether she wanted to know the answer.

  “I see someone, but we don’t call it anything official. And, yes, you can call me Chance. Most people do.”

  There it was. Erica was taken. Lucy’s stomach pinched up and her heart hurt a bit. She didn’t want to hear the details. “I met Bella.”

 

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