2 Multiple Exposures

by Audrey Claire

  I parked in the last available spot in the front lot of Zekey’s and stepped out of the car. Most tables were occupied in the eatery, but I spotted Inna and her guest right away. The woman seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place her. She had a pretty face with soft chocolate eyes and a pleasant smile, which could have matched anyone I might have passed on the streets of New York.

  As I drew near the table, she turned a welcoming smile on me and offered her hand to shake. “You must be Makayla. I’m Isabelle Givens. It’s very nice to meet you. I feel like I know you since Inna hasn’t stopped talking about her friend, the photographer.”

  I blushed. “It’s good to meet you too, Isabelle. I feel like I know you. Have we met?”

  “I think I might have one of those faces. Have you ever visited Summit’s Edge?”

  “North Carolina?”

  “Yes, it’s a small town, about the size of this one.”

  “No, I’m afraid I’ve never heard of it. I’m not originally from the area.”

  She waved a hand. “I didn’t think you had. We’re just a blip on the map anyway. New York?”

  “Yes, the accent?”

  She nodded. Throughout our conversation, while I warmed to Isabelle and she seemed like a friendly enough sort of person, I got the feeling that she knew so much more about me than she led on. Not that I thought she misled me, but there was a look in her eyes. Sort of like that wisdom from the older generation—the older generation that wasn’t busy competing with each other for attention, I mean.

  We ordered lunch, and I decided on the tuna salad to try to make up for my bad choices in recent days. Inna ordered a burger and fries because her young genes were still firing away, burning everything off seconds after she swallowed it. Can you sense the jealousy? Isabelle also made modest choices, but she admitted to indulging with a hot cocoa with marshmallows, whipped topping, and a cinnamon stick.

  As we tucked into our food, I asked Isabelle, “So what do you do?”

  She wiped her mouth with delicate grace and set her napkin down. “I’m a nurse by profession, but recently I opened a shop of my own where I sell herbs.”

  Inna wrinkled her nose. “Do people buy that stuff?”

  Isabelle chuckled. “Yes, of course, else I wouldn’t sell it. What’s most important is that they need it. Because they do, they will come to me.”

  I was just as skeptical, but I figured Isabelle knew her business, and she wouldn’t have given up a job with benefits if she didn’t think she could make her dream a success. I always admired entrepreneurs and told her so.

  “Thank you, Makayla. I appreciate that.” When she spoke, she laid a polite hand on my arm, and then left it there, tilting her head to the side as she studied me. “You’ll have troubles in love, but everything will be all right in the end.”

  I started and pulled away frowning then looked at Inna. My friend appeared as doubtful as I felt. “Um, I guess word gets around. Personal lives seem to be on display for everyone to critique in Briney Creek.”

  I didn’t mean to sound so snappy or sensitive. The fact is, I had sneaked out of the meeting the other night to meet Spencer, and while I didn’t feel we had resolved all of our questions regarding what we were doing, I did let him stay the night. I didn’t know how to feel the next morning, so I had just left for the studio. We texted a few times, nothing major. Isabelle’s comment made me think people were talking, even the ones just visiting. My life should be so interesting. No, it shouldn’t. I was happy with routine.

  “Oh, no,” Isabelle assured me, “sometimes I just know things. No one has spoken to me about you, other than Inna about your work, not your personal life.”

  I noticed Inna stared down at her French fries, but since Isabelle first spoke so directly regarding my love life, she hadn’t eaten a bite. “So you’re some kind of psychic?”

  “Heavens, no.” Isabelle chuckled, a light and pleasant sound. She was smooth. I had to give her that, but I didn’t trust her, not with Inna.

  “Why did you place that ad?”

  “That’s a fair question.” Isabelle shrugged. “It’s simple. I was looking for someone like me.”

  “What does that mean?” I leaned forward. “Inna is my friend, and if you’re here—”

  “Makayla,” Inna squeaked. “Isabelle wouldn’t—”

  “It’s okay.” Isabelle was unperturbed by my accusation. She rested her hands together in her lap, shoulders relaxed, smile in place. “Inna is young, and I’m glad she has people who love her and worry about her well-being. I have people who worry about me too, and I look out for them. One in particular has had life-changing challenges. I can’t explain specifically, but what I was looking for in the ad was a friend of a like mindset.”

  I still didn’t understand. “A girlfriend?”

  She grinned. “I assure you, Makayla, I’m looking for love too—from a man. I just haven’t found him yet. I maintain hope, like you.”

  “I…” My impulse was to deny it, but what was the point? I could watch her while she was in town and warn Inna to be careful. “How long will you be in Briney Creek?”

  “As long as needed, I suppose.”

  What did that mean? I groaned, and Inna smirked.

  “Dude, she speaks like that all the time. It’s freaking annoying.” While Inna complained, I saw her excitement. She liked Isabelle, probably looked up to her for some reason that I couldn’t fathom. Maybe it was the way a young person’s mind worked these days. I would still talk to her and have to trust her common sense.

  I continued with my meal. “Well, I don’t want to disappoint you, sweetheart, but love problems aren’t to come. They’re here now. I’m not wearing any rose-colored glasses. I’m a strong woman who will do what she needs to…even…well, even if it comes with a little pain.”

  Isabelle nodded. “That you are, and you will.”

  Conversation moved to other topics and Inna’s desperation to get away on her own. She lamented her mother’s lecturing, and I tried to soothe her with how worried Allie Kate was. The smart rebuttals to my opinions and Isabelle’s for that matter never slowed down. In the end, Isabelle and I shared a knowing glance or two and let the girl be.

  When we were done eating, we stood, and Inna and I walked Isabelle out to the street. She hugged Inna and to my surprise me as well. “I will be here a few more days. Makayla, if you would like to talk, I’m always available. Inna has my number.” She squeezed Inna’s hand and headed off down the street.”

  Inna swung in my direction. “So, what do you think?”

  “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be thinking. This situation confuses me, Inna. She’s the one who wrote the ad?”

  “Yeah, isn’t she cool? I think she’s a witch.”

  I blinked. “A witch?”

  “Yeah, how spooky is that?”

  “Um, not at all.” I folded my arms across my chest. “If real witches existed, I don’t think they’d be in Briney Creek.”

  “Wow, that’s logical,” Inna snarked.

  “You know what I mean, Inna. Wait, I’m not sure what I mean. Never mind. She seems nice if a bit odd. We’re used to odd here, so I’m sure she would fit right in if she stayed longer.”

  Inna said nothing.

  “Are you like her, Inna?”

  She rocked on her thick-soled boots that were Big Bird yellow today, and stuffed her hands into the oversized pockets of a sweater. The material was so thick it could double as a coat, which she used it for now. “Different? Alone in some respects, in a small town when I want to be gone yesterday? Yes!”

  “I didn’t get the impression she was unhappy at all or antsy to leave home.”

  “Not that, I guess, but she would if she thought it was what she should do. Isabelle is a free-spirit. She would blow with the wind, and it would totally be her choice. Nothing would hold her down.”

  I had the feeling Inna projected her own wishes onto Isabelle. Inna wanted to be so unfettered, and I didn’t bla
me her. Everyone had his or her desires. I for one wanted to stay in Briney Creek because I had found a peace and fulfillment here that I had never known before. My friends were my life, and I wouldn’t trade them.

  “It’s not long for you, kiddo. Before you know it, the end of the school year will be upon you, and we’ll be attending your graduation.”

  “I have almost the whole school year.”

  “An eternity in teen years, I forgot.”

  She glared at me. I laughed and said good-bye as I headed back to my apartment. For the rest of the day, I immersed myself in mindless television, alone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ringing bothered me, and I moaned, wishing it would stop. When it did, I sighed in contentment and started sinking down into oblivion. I had been having a wonderful dream where everything around me was roses and sunshine. If you really want to feel gaggy, I should tell you there were also kittens and butterflies. There really were, and I lay in the midst of it being fed strawberries. Have I said how much I love strawberries?

  The ringing started up again, cutting across the lovely warmth and blotting it out. I frowned in my sleep, but at last the fog began to lift. I opened my eyes to a darkened room. My sheets were on the floor where I’d kicked them, and my cell phone was still ringing.

  Something crashed to the floor as I waved my arm, but I found the cell and answered. “It’s got to be the middle of the night,” I growled, “or so early I wouldn’t dream of getting up. Who is this?”

  “Makayla?”

  I was instantly alert. “Lissa? Is that you?”

  “Makayla, I’m at the clinic,” she whispered.

  “Why in the world are you there?” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Have the police released it to the family or whoever owns the property?”

  “Dr. Bloomberg owns the building, and I don’t know if he has a beneficiary, but I’m sure his lawyer will handle it. Listen, that’s not important. I need to show you something. Can you come down here?”

  Trap, my mind shouted, and the scenarios ran through my head of how the foolish heroine goes out into the dark of night only to get herself killed. I was not a foolish heroine, thank you very much. I was, however, one concerned about Lissa and curious about what she’d found.

  “What is it?” I asked. They always behaved as if they couldn’t tell you over the phone. Nonsense!

  “Wait, hold on.” She left the phone, and I strained to hear. No sounds came over the line, and the silence almost hurt. I danced about the room, debating between pulling on some clothes and putting her on speaker to text Spencer. Fearing I’d somehow lose the connection, I kept the phone pressed to my ear and waited with impatience. At last, she returned. “Are you there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I thought Hardy Joe followed me. He fell asleep out in the back, and usually when he does that, he doesn’t wake up until all hours.”

  “The back?” I didn’t really want to know. The question tumbled out. Good thing she ignored it.

  “I have to hurry up before he wakes. I’ve been here longer than I meant to be, and I don’t want anyone happening down the street and seeing a light on.”

  “Nobody’s awake this time of night,” I half complained, yawning. “I do beg you to get to the point, Lissa, and get back home where you’re safe.”

  “I will, but I was thinking about what I told you, that Dr. Bloomberg had a partner.”

  I stiffened, recalling the information and that I had forgotten to mention it to Spencer because the conversation Lissa had overheard just wasn’t that conclusive. “You know who it is?” I asked, gripping my cell phone tighter.

  “Yes! I never would have believed it’s—”

  She cried out, and my stomach lurched. My fingers went limp, and I dropped the phone. Panicked, I fell to my knees and scrambled for it with hands that refused to work properly. I couldn’t get a grip. The phone kept falling away, and when I at last got control, the line had been disconnected. My throat constricted. I stabbed the phone emblem on the Home screen, and the dialer came up. Uttering a shriek, I swiped to get to Recent and pressed connect. I waited. The phone rang and rang. No answer.

  “No, no, no,” I muttered. If anything had happened to her, and I could have alerted Spencer sooner, could I forgive myself? I dialed him, and he answered on the second ring when I was ready to scream in frustration. “Spencer!”

  Something crashed on his end. “What is it, Makayla? What’s wrong?”

  “Get over to Dr. Bloomberg’s office. I think something’s happened to Lissa.”

  “Why would she be there at this time?”

  “Please, hurry!”

  I dropped the phone without even disconnecting and ran across the room, looking for clothes. Within moments, I was dressed. To stay home and wait didn’t occur to me. I snatched my keys from the counter separating the kitchen from the living room and scooted out the door.

  Most of Briney Creek being in proximity with everything else and Spencer probably driving at break neck speed, I arrived seconds after he screeched into Dr. Bloomberg’s office parking lot. Two other squad cars followed Spencer’s SUV, and the officers jumped from their vehicles, guns drawn. I froze inside my car, eyes wide, hands gripping the steering wheel. Part of me wanted to run in after Spencer. Another part realized one, I had no training to be of help in any way, shape, or form. Two, I might get in Spencer’s way and cause him or one of his men to be hurt. So I sat there, praying, hoping Lissa was fine. All I could think about was her husband and family and how she had sacrificed not just for them but for the many women that were Dr. Bloomberg’s and this mystery person’s victims. She just had to be okay.

  When more officers arrived, undoubtedly pulled from wherever in Briney Creek they had been, some by the look of them, from bed, my worries increased. Then Pete came walking out of the building with his head down and hands pushed into his hair. He stopped and stared at nothing. I unlocked my door to push it open. Someone pushed it closed again, and I looked into Jeff’s concerned face. He shook his head. I knew what it meant. Something had happened to Lissa, and they weren’t sure the premises were clear yet.

  Time ticked by at a snail’s pace. Pete disappeared. I wasn’t sure to where. The blue and red lights from the police vehicles seemed about ready to hypnotize me. My eyes ached, and so did my head. Then the front glass doors to the building opened, and Spencer appeared. Jeff backed away from my door, and I jumped out to run to the sheriff.

  I started in on him right away. “What about Lissa? Is she okay? Spencer?”

  He frowned, tightlipped. “You shouldn’t be here, Makayla.”

  “She called me,” I insisted. “She said—where is she?”

  He walked to his SUV and reached in to the radio, but he paused before speaking into it and sighed. “I’m sorry. She’s dead.”

  Another death. Another? My mind went numb. I stared, unblinking, and Spencer’s arm came around my shoulders as he drew me to him. I rested my face against his chest, but comfort refused to come.

  A bellow, and I lifted my head. “Oh no,” I whispered, “Pete must have called Hardy Joe.”

  “Lissa!” He shouted so loud, his voice almost hurt my ears. Hardy Joe ran full tilt at the doors to the doctor’s office, and when an officer stepped into his path to stop him, the man was almost barreled over. He came close to losing his footing as he struggled to hold Hardy Joe back.

  “You can’t go in there, Hardy Joe. I’m sorry. This is a crime scene.”

  “That’s my wife, you idiot,” Hardy Joe bellowed and pushed harder. Two other officers came over to hold him back. The group swayed one way and then the other as Hardy Joe tugged them along. Multiple feet shuffled on the lot as if they did some crazy dance. If my heart were not breaking, it might have been comical.

  “Hardy Joe,” a feminine voice this time, and the big man stilled. The tiny figure of Reeza appeared as she jumped out of a car just pulling into the lot. I had the irreleva
nt thought that she appeared no bigger than the last time I’d seen her, despite Allie Kate’s complaints that she was letting herself go.

  Hardy Joe spun back toward Reeza, and he cried like a poor, pitiful teddy bear. Even Spencer turned his head and cleared his throat. The officers were silent while Reeza rocked the big man, sobbing her eyes out. Pete hovered near his wife, at a loss. I sniffed and wiped my own wet face before raising my chin.

  “We have to catch this guy, Spencer. Lissa said—”

  He touched a finger to my lips and cut his eyes over toward the sobbing couple. I fell silent. Neither of them needed to know at this time what happened when I was speaking with Lissa on the phone. The horror of it shook me, and I wished with everything inside that I didn’t know.

  “Come to the station,” he said. “Unless you prefer to wait until daylight.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but there’s no way I’m going to sleep anymore tonight.” I glanced down at myself and realized I had mis-buttoned my coat. At least that was the worst of it. I was exhausted. “Do you have coffee?”

  “I’ll have someone bring some in. Whosever turn it was to restock failed to do it.”

  I nodded dumbly, and soon we sat in his office with me in a chair, sipping on passable coffee someone had found at an all night convenience store and Spencer behind his desk sorting through folders. Tension around his mouth and eyes told me a second body pushed him to the edge. He glanced up and found me watching him. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch him.”

  “I don’t doubt you.”

  His expression changed, and I had the feeling he was thinking of where my doubt did lay. I refused to think about that right now, and his gaze hardened. “We didn’t find any fingerprints the first time, nothing that gives us a clue to go on. You and I have gone through half our list.”