About Face

by V. K. Powell

  She slid to the floor and buried her face in her hands, letting the tears fall. She’d promised herself this would be her last case, but maybe—“No.” She said the words aloud, cementing them in her mind and making them permanent. “You…will not…do this…to yourself…again. I forbid it!” Even as she made the sobbing commitment, her lungs ached like she’d breathed in acid.

  She had no idea how long she’d been crying or how long Leigh had been sitting beside her before she noticed. “Sorry.”

  “I didn’t know if I should disturb you, leave you alone, or just wait. Are you hurt?”

  Macy stopped crying and laughed. How could she answer the simple question that summed up her entire adult life? Of course she was hurt. She’d always been hurt and had no idea when or if it would ever end. But that wasn’t really Leigh’s question. She wanted to know if Macy was functional. “I’m fine.” Isn’t that what everyone wanted to hear?

  “You’re obviously not fine, but you don’t want to talk either. So, what about that drive you promised me?” She stood and offered her hand.

  She hadn’t expected Leigh to be so perceptive or to know how desperately she needed a distraction. Wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her lab coat, she took Leigh’s hand and stood. “That would be perfect. But don’t get your hopes up. The pickings are slim at Belews Lake.”

  “I’ve been duly warned.”

  Leigh’s steady gaze was like a caress, touching her soul and assuring her that whatever had upset her wouldn’t last forever. She gave herself permission to believe the unspoken promise. At least her drawing proved this deceased person wasn’t Jesse, and though the consolation wasn’t absolute, a part of her felt lighter. As she discarded her coat and opened the front door, the evening sunlight cast a rainbow of colors like an omen in their direction.

  Leigh grasped her hand as they walked to her car, as comfortably and naturally as if she’d done it hundreds of times. Macy intentionally focused on their connection. When Leigh’s fingers entwined with hers and wrapped around her palm, she knew she’d follow her anywhere. The certainty of that feeling spiraled through her, and with it came the inspiration for a new painting—light, bright, and immense. She envisioned a canvas splattered with thick acrylic and finessed with her fingertips until the emotions of this moment breathed from the base. How long had it been since she’d wanted to paint, much less had an idea for an actual piece? As they walked, she looked down at their joined hands and the answer made her ache.

  The afternoon sky was awash with twilight colors as she dropped the top on her convertible and maneuvered out of the driveway. She inhaled the fresh air, absorbed some of Leigh’s obvious enthusiasm, and let the disappointment of her workday ebb. “I’m going to take you to a local hotspot. The place is renowned for its cuisine and entertainment.”

  “Seriously, out here in the great next-to-nothingness?” Leigh’s smile was as crooked as the skeptical look she gave Macy.

  “You’ll see.” As she drove, she pointed out Dean’s Service Center gas station, Smith’s Grocery and Grill, and the Riverside Golf Course. Leigh played along, expressing exaggerated enthusiasm for what passed as local landmarks. When she pulled into a gravel parking lot and stopped in front of a brown log building with a red tin roof and shutters, Leigh looked confused.

  “And this is what, exactly? I’m guessing a livestock barn by the goat and farmer-milking-a-cow cutouts on the side. Am I close?” Her green eyes twinkled as if they shared a secret known only to them.

  She laughed, and the confusion on Leigh’s face deepened. “I promised you a dining and entertainment venue—voilà.”

  Leigh’s head was like a tennis ball, back and forth from her to the building. “Really? This? You are kidding, right?”

  “I most certainly am not. This is the famous Hillbilly Hide-A-Way. It’s a true historical landmark in the area. They’re open on weekends for dinner, or supper as it’s called in these parts, and Sunday brunch. And there’s live music on Saturday night—bluegrass, country, and gospel—for three hours, if you can stand it that long. Contain your enthusiasm, please.”

  “I’m just dying to hear about the menu.”

  “Well, I’m glad you asked. They offer the usual country delicacies family-style, like fried chicken, ribs, country ham, pinto beans, fresh taters, chicken gravy, hoecake, cornbread, and green beans. For breakfast on Sunday, you can choose from eggs, sliced tenderloin, sausage, country ham, grits, biscuits, and sawmill gravy. What more could you want?”

  “A defibrillator close by. Have you ever actually eaten here? Please say no or my opinion of you will suffer badly.”

  She reached over and ruffled the tangled mass of copper curls on Leigh’s head. “I’ve been here many times, but not of my own volition. My parents loved this place when I was growing up. I always felt like I’d been dropped into Mayberry hell without even a hotdog or hamburger stand. What they serve is what you get, and I didn’t like any of it.”

  “Then I guess this place is out for our first date.” Leigh cocked her head and grinned. “That is, if you accept.”

  Leigh’s gaze was like fuel in the pit of her gut, swirling and burning a path lower. Part of her wanted to say yes, but what exactly was Leigh asking for—one date, a full courtship, sex, or a commitment? She couldn’t take the chance Leigh wanted more when she wasn’t prepared to give it. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, the dating thing. I’m not really in a position to—”

  “I know. You have things to figure out.”

  “You do know I’m attracted to you, right?”

  “Yeah, so we’re attracted to each other. What’s wrong with exploring? We don’t have to make an exclusive, total commitment, if that’s what you’re worried about. I promise not to cramp your style.”

  “It’d more likely be the other way around. I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea or mislead you. I’m absolutely horrible at any kind of relationship. Just ask my exes.”

  Leigh took her hand, raised it to her lips, and gently kissed her palm. “If I promise not to fall in love with you, would you consider dating me a little, or maybe a lot?”

  Her heart pounded like a wild mustang stamping at the corral enclosure. Again she struggled with saying yes immediately, but the practical, orderly part of her won. Caution was her touchstone, but she’d learned that extremes produce the same result. If she gave too little or too much, she’d end up in the same place she was now, alone and in denial. “Maybe.” It was as if someone else had spoken, but with Leigh kissing her palm again, it seemed the only answer she was capable of uttering.

  “Excellent. I’m a patient woman, but will you give me some indication if or when you decide? I’m more the blurting type. You’re subtler. I might not catch your delicate subtext.”

  “Let’s keep it loose. I can’t believe I said that. I’m the queen of schedules and timelines. And I really can’t explain my lack of control lately. It seems every time you see me I’m in tears or on the verge of a breakdown.” She wondered again how long Leigh had been by her side this afternoon as she cried, waiting patiently, completely silent, providing the support she needed.

  “Maybe you just need to let some things out. Can’t keep the past bottled up forever.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about that subject a bit yourself.”

  “Could be.” Leigh smiled and ran her hand along the back of her neck, before kissing her on the ear.

  Macy needed to change the subject before she said or did something more foolish. “Let’s get out of here before the Clan Hillbilly comes out and runs us off with shotguns.”

  “I’m at your service, pretty much kidnapped.”

  “Good, because I have another treasure to show you.”

  “I’m riveted.”

  Leigh trailed a finger down her arm and rested her hand on her thigh as she drove. With each touch, her fuse burned shorter and her passion hotter. She floored the accelerator, hoping the evening air would blow away the naked
images of Leigh swirling through her mind. By the time she pulled into the Pine Hall Boating Access area, her crotch was soaked.

  “Where are we?” Leigh asked.

  “Duke Energy substation. Close your eyes.” Leigh complied without question, and she parked between the trees facing the lake. “Keep them shut until I say.” She backed up, repositioned the car, and turned off the engine. “Now, open.”

  “What am I looking for?” As Leigh asked the question, her gaze landed on the surprise—a huge white water tower shaped like an upside-down lightbulb with painted red eyes and mouth, red lightning bolts on its head, red electrical sockets for ears, and a yellow lightbulb nose.

  “What the heck is that?”

  “It’s Reddy Kilowatt, the power company’s mascot. Isn’t he fantastic? I smile every time I see him. Sorry, he’s like a person to me. We came here when I was a kid. My parents fished, but I drew pictures of Reddy and imagined him in front of our dock.”

  “That’s something you don’t expect to see, a giant lightbulb with a face sticking out of the lake.”

  “And we’re just in time for the show.” She nodded toward the sunset and Leigh’s gaze followed. “Isn’t it magnificent? It’s one of my favorite places to watch the colors, worth the trip. I used to come here often.”

  “I can see why.”

  Leigh’s fingers stroked the top of her hand as they watched the array of light and shadow that made sunset on the lake so spectacular. In her mind, she expanded the painting she’d imagined when they left the cottage and let the beauty and enormity of it wash over her. She was almost ready to start working again.

  “You okay?” Leigh asked.

  “Yeah, but we should probably go. The ranger will be around shortly to close the gate.” She wanted to stay in this place with Leigh until they were bathed in moonlight and the ambience of a romantic evening, but she had to do one more thing first—tell her about Jesse.

  As she drove back to the cottage, their conversation was light, and the atmosphere around them crackled with electricity. Macy tried to remember the last time she’d visited any of the local sites but drew a blank. One thing was certain: she’d never enjoyed them so much. Leigh looked at everything with fresh eyes, and her enthusiasm was contagious. Macy now viewed the area and the quirky locations with the appreciation and enthusiasm of an artist instead of a bored teenager or a jaded adult.

  When they pulled into the driveway, Leigh insisted on helping put the top up on the car, thanked her for a great evening, and then scuffed her shoes in the gravel as if waiting for something.

  “If you aren’t totally bored with me yet, come in for a while,” Macy said.

  “I’ve really enjoyed being with you, and I’m not quite ready for it to be over.” Her tone sparked with innuendo and promise, and Macy loved her ability to just put her feelings out there.

  They walked inside the cottage and she motioned toward the kitchen. “There’s chilled wine in the fridge, if you want to grab it. I need to put some things away in the studio, and then I’ll be right back.”

  As she tidied up the tools left scattered across the table, she replayed the afternoon with Leigh. She hadn’t watched the sunset at the boating ramp with anyone since Jesse. Maybe this was the perfect moment to let go of the painful memories, maybe Jesse was sending her a sign, and maybe the drawing was confirmation it was time to move on. When had she started thinking about a future with Leigh? Is that what she wanted? The realization opened a floodgate of possibility, and this time she didn’t want to stop it.

  When she walked back into the den, Leigh handed her a glass of wine. “A toast to a wonderful afternoon with a beautiful woman.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” They clinked glasses, and the look Leigh gave her made her legs tremble. “Let’s sit. I want to talk to you about something.”

  The laugh lines around Leigh’s mouth disappeared, and Macy felt like she’d been robbed. “It’s not bad. Relax.” When they were settled on the sofa, she set their wineglasses on the table and took Leigh’s hand in hers.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. The drawing, my sketch of the missing person, wasn’t what I expected.” Leigh didn’t respond. She seemed to know Macy needed to get through this all at once. “I’ve been trying to find someone, a friend, for a long time. When I do a reconstruction, I always fear and hope it’s her…but it never is. I promised myself this would be the last one, so it was especially hard. Guess I lost it.”

  “You don’t owe me an apology. Must’ve been very painful, but isn’t that really what you want—not to find her in circumstances like this?”

  “Yes and no. Wondering is a steady drain of energy you can never completely turn off.”

  “But you still want to know what happened. I understand. Can I hold you?” When she nodded, Leigh urged her closer and hugged her.

  Her emotions were like a naked electrical wire seeking connection. Leigh’s gesture touched her, but the turmoil about Jesse raged. Was she doing the right thing, telling Leigh about Jesse? Before she could process the question completely, she started talking again. “We were teenagers, and every guy at school was in love with her. I wanted to beat them off when they hovered around her like dogs in heat. She had long blond hair and eyes the color of blue crystals. Guess I was more than a little in love with her. We told our parents we were spending that night at the other’s house, like kids do, but we went to a bar not far from her place, walked along the tracks.”

  The ominous weight of that night closed around her as she recalled what happened next. “I didn’t really want to go, but I’d never been good at denying her anything. She disappeared in the crowd the minute we walked in. Guys were lined up three deep to dance with her, each with a drink in his hand. She was in her element, and I was in hell. All I wanted was to be alone with her.”

  Leigh brushed a strand of Macy’s wavy brown hair off her gorgeous face. Her insides were at war with the story she was hearing and the feelings for Macy blossoming from her heartbreaking revelation. She wanted to comfort Macy, but she also wanted to stop her from repeating the story she already knew so well. The stories were too similar to be a coincidence—Macy’s tale and the case she’d wondered about her entire career and that now sat on her table awaiting a final review. She had to tell her…but what? Captain Howard had instructed her to tell no one about her efforts, and what if she was wrong and the two weren’t connected. “Macy—”

  “Leigh, please let me finish. The rest of that night was a blur. I saw her when she danced by a couple of times or on her way to the restroom. And then she was gone. The bar closed and I couldn’t find her. I searched inside and out, almost assaulted a couple of the guys she’d danced with. No one had seen her leave. I walked back along the railroad track hoping to find her passed out or maybe back at the house. She was…gone…I never saw her again. It was my fault. I was older and should’ve taken better care of her.”

  “No, Macy, it wasn’t. None of it was your fault.”

  Macy buried her face in Leigh’s shoulder and shook with the soul-wrenching sobs of a tortured woman. Now Leigh understood why. Macy felt guilty for her best friend’s disappearance and had carried the guilt for years. Leigh already knew the answer to her next question but had to ask. “What was her name?”

  “Jesse…Jesse Quinn.” Macy muffled another strangled cry as she covered her face. “And the cops, I’m sorry, the police, didn’t make much of an effort to find her. Who closes a missing person case in two weeks, especially one involving an innocent teenager?”

  A tremble of something akin to fear skittered up Leigh’s spine. The case Captain Howard had given her suddenly took on greater significance. Macy Sheridan was Macy Reynolds, but why the name difference? She would find out what happened to Jesse Quinn if only to bring Macy some peace. Sixteen years was a long time to wait for answers, for all of them. But first, she had to tell Macy about the case and her involvement in it. “Macy…”

  “I’m sorry,” her voice was
tight and distant, “it’s just so hard to say all this aloud after so long. I’ve never told anyone before.” When she looked up, her brown eyes were black and bottomless with grief. “I feel so, I don’t know, empty, I guess.”

  “Oh, Macy.”

  “Kiss me.” The request was a soft and pleading whisper. The look in Macy’s eyes turned serious and then dangerous, pulling her farther in.

  “But I need to tell you—”

  “Whatever it is, don’t. Not right now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please just kiss me, before I think myself out of it.”

  Macy’s lips were urgent and firm against hers as they met. When Macy licked her lips and slid her tongue inside Leigh’s mouth, her body felt molten at the core, her bones brittle, muscles loose, and her heart pounded with the exertion of a hard run. The salty taste of tears clung to the corners of Macy’s mouth, and she licked them away. “So good.” She fell deeper into this woman who kissed as if this were her last embrace.

  Macy slid sideways across her lap and Leigh pulled them closer. The kiss intensified, and Macy rubbed her breasts against Leigh’s until she felt their skin would combust.

  “Make love to me, Leigh.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please stop asking me that.”

  “Would you like me to take you into the bedroom?”

  “Just take me. Don’t treat me like a girlfriend.” Macy rose, unbuttoned her blouse, and dropped it on the floor, followed by her jeans. Before Leigh adjusted to the fact Macy was serious, she wore only a pair of bikinis and a bra. “Are you going to make me beg?”