“What’s there to talk about? You did the right thing. I’d try to get hired myself if I wasn’t already committed to the sheriff’s department.”
“I don’t want you to worry about Craig. He promised it would be strictly business.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “You know he lied.” He dropped into a chair across from her dad’s desk and put his feet up on the ottoman. He hoped he looked relaxed, even if every muscle in his body was rigid.
“Even if he did lie, it won’t matter.”
“You sure? He’s pretty important. Power can be seductive.”
“You have more power over me than he does. Mark, you have to trust me.”
He did trust her. He trusted Craig too — to do everything in his power to win her back. Part of him wanted to tell her not to take the job. She might even listen and stay at the newspaper. But then what?
He couldn’t hold her back. This was a great career opportunity, and why shouldn’t she have it? If Craig weren’t the boss, Mark would be rooting for her to take it. No, Mark never wanted to be the one who stood in the way of Deni’s dreams. He just wished Craig weren’t the one making them come true.
They heard hurried footsteps on the hardwood floor in the hallway, and Chris appeared in the doorway. “Oh, there you are.” She was out of breath. “Deni, you’ve got to help me. The party starts in three hours and I can’t get it all together!”
Deni got up. “But I have three stories to write, and I was hoping to wash up and change clothes.”
“Please, Deni. You can’t let me embarrass myself this way. You too, Mark. I need you both!”
Mark loved seeing Chris in a tizzy. It was quite amusing. “I can’t help right now, Chris. I just came by here on a break. I have to get back to work.”
She wadded the roots of her hair. “You’re not going to ditch the party, are you, Mark? What if nobody comes? What if I’m left with a ton of apple hors d’oeuvres and candles galore, and I’m sitting there all by myself?”
“Don’t worry, I’m coming,” Mark said. “I’m working till seven.”
“But it starts at seven!”
“I’ll be there,” he said.
Deni laughed and put her arm around her friend. “It’s going to be fine. Everybody’s talking about it.”
Chris looked at her. “Really?”
“Yes, really. And I’ll come over and help now, then I can come home to change after you’ve gotten a grip. I’ll just stay up all night writing those stories, but don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you!” She grabbed Deni’s hand and pulled her to the door.
Mark got up and followed them out. “Deni, I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll go a little early and meet you there.” Pulling away from Chris, she stood on her toes and kissed him. “See you then. Be careful.”
He couldn’t help laughing at the two of them as he went back to his car.
THIRTY-FIVE
BETH’S BEST FRIEND CHER WAS WAITING IN THE BRANNINGS’ garage when she got home from delivering her papers. Beth’s stomach tightened as she pulled in. She didn’t want to talk, or something might slip out. She’d told Jimmy way too much already.
Cher sat cross-legged on the concrete, playing with a kitten that looked only a few weeks old. “Isn’t she cute? I named her Freckles. She was from the litter that the Allens’ cat had. My mom said I could keep her.”
Beth got off her bike and sat down next to Cher. She picked up the gray tabby and looked her in the face, but the cat whined and scratched her, trying to get down. She thrust her back at Cher.
“You could get one if you wanted. They have three that haven’t been taken.”
“We have enough animals,” she said.
“Rabbits and chickens don’t count. They’re for food.”
“I don’t know what we’d feed a cat. Anyway, I don’t want one.”
Cher let the kitten go and watched it romp across the garage. “Guess who I saw yesterday?”
Beth wasn’t interested. She wanted to go in and lie down. “Who?”
“Jimmy. He rides by your house almost every day, like he’s trying to get a glimpse. Does he ever stop?”
Beth shrugged. “Not really. But I did see him today.”
“He really likes you. Aren’t you excited?”
“He’s okay.” A man on a bike rode by and Beth’s eyes followed him. It was just Jack Pratt’s dad.
“Okay? Beth, what is wrong with you?”
She wanted to close the garage, to keep anyone riding by from seeing her. What if the killer came by and she was sitting here? “I have to go in,” she said.
Cher got up and chased down her kitten. “You don’t want to hang out?”
“Not really. I don’t feel good.”
“Are you sick?”
Irritated, Beth started for the door. “Maybe. I don’t know. See you later, okay?”
Cher looked hurt again. She picked up her kitten and held it against her chest. “All right, I’ll go. Come by if you want to hang out.”
“I will.” Beth opened the door and stepped inside.
“Oh, one more thing.”
Beth turned back. “What?”
“There was this man looking for you.”
Beth’s lungs seemed to close, trapping her air. She stepped back into the garage. “What man?”
“Some man who had your necklace. You know, the cross one?”
Beth’s hand came up to her throat. It was him. The chain had broken. Her chest hurt. She thought she might faint. “Did you tell him where I live?”
“I didn’t see him,” Cher said. “My dad and brother were at the well Sunday when he stopped and asked. My dad said he’d give it to you, but the man didn’t trust him.”
Beth sucked in air, unable to let it out. Panicked, she ran to close the garage.
“What are you doing? I was about to leave.”
Beth slid the metal door to the ground with a crash. “Go through the house.” Darkness was thick between them. Beth opened the door and stepped into the kitchen. “What did they tell him?”
“Who?”
“The man!” Beth began to cry. “What did your dad tell the man?”
“I’m not sure. He didn’t give him your address, I know that. Beth, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t like people talking about me.” She couldn’t breathe out and began to get dizzy.
“Are you hyperactivating or something?”
Beth grabbed the counter, fearing she would fall.
Cher ran around it and grabbed a paper sack full of nails. She dumped it out and handed it to Beth. “Here, breathe into this.”
Beth took the bag and breathed, blowing it up, sucking it back in . . . out . . . in . . .
She could breathe better now. Sweating, she pulled the bag down. “Did they give him . . . my last name?”
“Maybe,” Cher said. “He can probably look it up in the phone book and find the address. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get your necklace back.”
She heard her mother coming in the back door. “Cher! It’s good to see you, honey.”
Cher turned to her with concern. “I’m glad you’re here. Beth was having trouble breathing.”
Her mother gasped, “Beth, are you okay?”
She was still breathing hard.
“I gave her that bag to breathe into.”
“She was hyperventilating?”
Now her mother was all concerned, and Beth didn’t want anyone hovering over her right now. She needed to lie down.
“Honey, what caused this?”
“Nothing.” Cher was going to tell her mother about the man who was looking for her. Her mom would tell her father who would tell the sheriff, and then what? Her mind raced for a story. “I just . . . realized I lost my necklace. The cross.”
“Honey, that’s okay. It’s no big deal.”
Cher opened her mouth to speak. Beth grabbed Che
r’s hand, almost making her drop the kitten. “Cher has to go, don’t you, Cher?”
Cher gaped at her, baffled. Still, she played along. “Uh, yeah. I told my mom I’d come right home.”
Beth led her to the door, opened it, and waited for her to leave.
“You’re acting crazy,” Cher whispered harshly. “What is wrong with you?”
“I told you, I’m sick.” As Cher stepped out onto the porch, Beth closed the door. She waved at Cher through the glass and watched her huff away.
Her mother came up behind her.
“Beth, honey, tell me what’s going on.”
“I just got hot,” she said. “I need to lie down.” With that, she ran up the stairs.
THIRTY-SIX
WHEN SHE WAS SURE THAT CHRIS HAD EVERYTHING UNDER control, Deni hurried back home to get ready for her friend’s party. It had been warm today, and since she’d ridden all over town on her bike, she needed a bath. What she wouldn’t give for hot running water.
Maybe her work with Craig would make that happen faster.
She did her best to clean up with cold well water.
She put her hair in a towel, then went to her room to finish cleaning up. She wanted to look nice tonight, and she hoped her hair would dry fast enough.
She dressed in a blouse she hadn’t worn much in the past year, so it still looked fresh and clean. And she pulled on a pair of Beth’s old jeans. They were too big for her thirteen-year-old sister now, but they fit Deni rather nicely. They were too short, but she folded them up, making them into capris. A girl did what a girl had to do.
Finally, a pair of pants that didn’t have to be belted or safety-pinned to keep them from falling down. She stood in front of the mirror, feeling emaciated. She’d never imagined she’d think that of herself. But the winter had been tough, and she’d come out of it with an angular, anorexic body. In her early college years, she had worked hard for a skeletal body. Now food rationing had done the job that starving herself had failed to do. How stupid was that? Striving to look like you were starving to death? Why would anyone with plenty of food deny their hunger pangs?
That was just one of the things the Pulses had clarified for her.
She heard Craig’s voice downstairs, and she stepped out into the hall as he came up. He looked tired and distracted. “Hey, are you coming to the party?”
He smiled at the sight of her. “What party?”
“Chris’s party, remember?”
He hit his forehead. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been so busy, I forgot. Yeah, I’ll come for a little while, but then I have to go back to the office. I was just taking a break.”
“I was about to leave.” She had run out of lip gloss, so she took some Vaseline and slicked it on her lips. It would have to do.
He leaned in the bathroom doorway, watching her. The intimacy in that struck her, and she turned away from the mirror.
“You look pretty,” he said.
“Thank you.” She moved to the door, but he didn’t step out of the way. She looked up at him. “I . . . need to get to my purse.”
Finally, he moved aside. “Wait a minute and I’ll come with you.”
She went into her bedroom and stared down at her purse, wondering if she should tell him she’d rather go without him. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to think she was his date. But since they were both going to the same place, it would be absurd to make him wait ten minutes and walk there alone.
She waited for him downstairs, and in a few minutes he was ready. “Wanna take my car?”
She glanced at it as they stepped outside. “I thought you were supposed to conserve gas.”
“I am, but it’s not that far.”
“We can walk.”
“Sure? It’s been a long time since you’ve ridden in one.”
“Not really. Mark drives a patrol car. He gives me rides sometimes.”
He smirked. “Good ole Mark.”
She breathed a laugh.
“Are you ready to get started Monday?” he asked as they walked.
“More than ready. I can’t wait. But I felt bad when I told my editor. She really depends a lot on me.”
“Then she should pay you better.”
“She pays me what she can afford.”
“Then she can’t afford you.”
Deni looked up at him. “The job wasn’t about money, you know. I loved what I was doing. I did it for free before she hired me.”
“Yeah, but labors of love don’t help you climb the employment ladder. You need some résumé enhancers. Some real work with real pay.”
She didn’t like the mercenary way that sounded, but she let it go. “So how are things going? Made any progress?”
“We’re still hiring, trying to build our workforce so we can get the circuits repaired in the power substations. We’ve made some progress toward getting the refineries powered. I’m guessing some of them will have electricity in the next few days, if everything stays on schedule.”
“And if they work, then we’ll be able to get fuel?”
“That’s right. It’s the domino effect. You can’t do one thing without the other.”
Her excitement waxed again. She would be in on all of this. Participating in the recovery. Making things happen.
Chris’s front door was wide open, and Deni heard laughter and voices inside. She led Craig in, smiling at the transformation the house had undergone in just the last hour. It glowed with candlelight, and Chris greeted everyone at the door. Her blonde curls were loosely pulled into a striking updo that gave her a look of sophistication and elegance. She looked polished and lovely. Deni was impressed.
As they walked into the living room, she felt Craig’s proprietary hand on her back. She tried to walk faster, to put some distance between them, but he kept pace. She looked around, hoping Mark was there so she could quickly put to rest any appearance that she was with Craig. But Mark hadn’t yet arrived.
Jeff, Deni’s brother, was already there, playing guitar with his friend Zach, providing a nice musical ambience.
People stood in clusters, talking and laughing. Deni saw Amber, her next-door neighbor. She sometimes forgot that Amber wasn’t much older than she. Raising three preschoolers alone made her seem so much older. She sat on a barstool talking to Will Truman and George Mason, two of the town’s paramedics. Will had a girl with him that Deni didn’t recognize, but George had his eyes on Chris as she flitted around greeting her guests.
Deni decided to see what she could do to help that along. She got a cup of water and held it like a cocktail as she joined them. “You guys clean up nice. Amber, I love your blouse.”
Amber looked down at herself, as if she couldn’t believe someone would compliment her. She was beautiful when she fixed herself up, but she still had that sad glint to her eyes that reminded Deni she wasn’t finished grieving over her marriage.
“This is great, isn’t it? Doesn’t Chris look beautiful?”
George grinned. “Does she? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Liar,” Will said. “You can’t keep your eyes off her.”
“If you’re interested,” Deni said, “you’d better snap her up. There are other eligible bachelors here.”
Amber bit into an apple slice. “Are you back with that guy?”
Deni glanced back at Craig. Chris was introducing him around as though he were a celebrity. “No, I’m still with Mark. Craig’s just a friend now.”
“Must be weird having him staying with you when you two were engaged.”
Deni sighed and lowered her voice. “It is, frankly. But it’s just temporary.”
Amber sighed. “Just be careful. You don’t want to choose the wrong guy and wind up like me.”
Deni winced. “Have you heard from Mike since the banks opened?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “He served me with divorce papers. He’s trying to get the courts on his side about the money. But Brad hooked me up with a pro bono attorney, so we’ll make sure they kn
ow about his girlfriend — and the abandonment.” Her eyes welled as she looked down at her glass. “Thing is, I really don’t want a divorce.”
“I know.”
“But what can you do, if they just leave?” Amber drew in a breath and dabbed at her eyes. Looking through the crowd, she nodded toward Derek and Cathy Morton. “Hope someone can save that marriage.”
Deni’s gaze drifted through the crowd to Derek Morton, the doctor who lived in the neighborhood, and his wife Cathy. Cathy looked flashy in a gold lamé blouse. Deni had rarely seen her without her baby since it was born seven months before, but her eyes darted to and fro as if trying to catch another woman meeting Derek’s eyes. The problem was, his eyes did rove. Hopefully no one here would return his interest.
Deni heard a knock at the door and turned to see Mark coming in. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt with a picture of a globe on it and an arrow that said, “You are here” — a stark contrast to the khakis and button-down dress shirt Craig wore. A smile lifted her face as she waited for him to meet her eyes.
Finally, they connected. He winked, and she went toward him, forgetting all about Craig. She took his hand and reached up to kiss him, and saw the pleasure in his eyes. “Where’ve you been? I thought you’d never get here.”
“Hey, I had to make my entrance.” He glanced across and found Craig, surrounded by people bending his ear about the recovery. “Seriously, I didn’t want to come in uniform, so I went home to change.” He leaned down to her ear and said, “What’s with you coming with Craig? My mother said she saw you walking over.”
“He was there and I was there, and we were coming at the same time. But don’t worry. I’m with you. I’ll make sure everyone knows it.”
He checked out her face, and she hoped he saw the sincerity there. He was tanned dark, and his black hair was a little shaggier than normal. She loved it like that.
“You look great,” he whispered against her hair. “Smell good, too.”
The hairs on her neck rose. “Want a water cocktail?” she asked.
He grinned. “Make it a double.”
“And apple hors d’oeuvres, which I helped make.”
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