When Summer Comes

by Brenda Novak

  “You coming in?”

  Callie jerked her head up to see Levi standing in the doorway. Thanks to her conversation with Kyle, she’d stopped checking to see if he was ready for her. “Uh, yeah,” she said, and dropped her phone in her purse before climbing out.

  Levi watched her closely. “Kyle said something you didn’t like?”

  She refused to meet his eyes. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him.”

  “He wants me gone,” he said simply.

  “I don’t think he knows what he wants.”

  Levi could’ve said more. No doubt he understood why their relationship was so complex. But he didn’t press her to answer any more questions. He merely held the door and she went in to pay.

  * * *

  After the auto parts store, which was located in the next town, they returned to Whiskey Creek and bought a shower rod from the hardware store. With the Old West–style boardwalk in front and the antique gold lettering on the window, the place resembled a mercantile out of the 1800s. Most of the other businesses on Sutter Street looked similar. They were definitely a blast from the past, including Callie’s photography studio, where they stopped next. When Levi had passed through Whiskey Creek, he hadn’t paid a lot of attention to it, except to eat and buy gas. Two days ago, this town was just another spot on the map. He’d never expected to see it again.

  A young woman with long dark hair sat working on a computer. She glanced up when the bell over the door rang, then jumped to her feet.

  “I didn’t realize you were coming in,” she said to Callie.

  Callie shrugged. “I was in town, so I thought I’d come by, see how things are going.”

  Her eyes drifted to Levi.

  “This is a friend of mine,” Callie explained. “He’s visiting for a week or so. Levi, this is Tina, my assistant.”

  Tina offered him a shy smile. “Hello.”

  He acknowledged her greeting with a nod.

  “I was just finishing up the Barrado album,” she said, returning her attention to Callie.

  “How’s it turning out?”

  “Great.”

  “Farrah Johnson called. She was wondering when her pictures will be in.”

  “I don’t know why she bothered you. I’ve already talked to her. I have an appointment with her next week.”

  “Maybe she’s miffed that I didn’t do her wedding myself.”

  Their words faded to background noise as Levi circled the studio, studying the photographs that hung on the walls—a pregnant woman standing partially in shadow, two toddlers playing with a bunny, a family wading in a river, several brides and graduates and chubby babies. Callie was good at chronicling life, he thought. She seemed to capture just the right nuances of lighting and expression—if these were all her work and not Tina’s.

  In a small covelike display area, he found a picture of ten people, who all looked to be about the same age. Callie hadn’t taken this shot; she was in it. So was Kyle.

  “You ready?” Callie asked

  Levi glanced over at her. “Who are these people?”

  “My best friends.”

  “There’re a lot of them.”

  She smiled. “Except for Chey, we’ve known one another since grade school.”

  “Only in a place like this,” he murmured.

  “Probably.” She fished out her keys. “There’s too much shifting around in the bigger cities.”

  “You didn’t lose any of the group? None of them ever moved away?”

  She pointed to a moderately attractive redhead at one end. “Gail did. She’s still gone, but she comes back to visit when she can. Do you recognize her?”

  “No. Am I supposed to?”

  “She’s married to Simon O’Neal.”

  “The movie star Simon O’Neal?”

  “One and the same.”

  “How did she meet him?”

  “She started a PR company in L.A. about eleven years ago. Used to do his publicity. She still does.”

  “Didn’t he recently go through a very public meltdown?” He remembered getting bits and pieces of Hollywood gossip, even in Afghanistan.

  “It’s been a couple of years, but yes. Definitely not his finest hour. That was before they fell in love and she got him turned around,” she added with a wink.

  “I haven’t heard anything about him lately.” But he didn’t spend much time in front of the TV. Once he

  returned home after his third tour, he took to the road almost immediately. At that point, what one movie star or another was or wasn’t doing seemed to have no relevance to his life.

  “The fact that you haven’t heard anything is good news. It means he’s recovered.” She drew his attention to a dark-haired woman with olive skin and a severe widow’s peak. “This is Eve. She runs Little Mary’s

  B and B down the street, which her parents bought shortly after their marriage.” She rested one graceful-looking hand on her hip. “It’s rumored to be haunted by the ghost of a six-year-old girl who was murdered in the basement in 1871.”

  He slid his hands into his pockets. “Do you believe that’s true?”

  “The murder’s documented. I don’t know about the haunting. Some strange things have certainly happened there. Eve’s not the superstitious type, would never make this up. And she’s not the only one who’s experienced strange noises and movement. Some people even claim to have seen the child’s ghost.”

  “But not Eve.”

  “She hasn’t, no.”

  “Who killed the girl?”

  “No one knows. The truth never came out.”

  “Sounds like the twentieth-century equivalent of the JonBenét Ramsey case.”

  “I guess you could say that. Unsolved Mysteries came here the first of the year and did a show on it. They hired investigators and forensic profilers and had Simon do a cameo appearance. In the end, they tried to say it was most likely the gardener, but I wasn’t convinced.”

  “What about her father?”

  Callie seemed mildly surprised by the question. “He was an older wealthy man who married late in life. Mary was his only child. You think he might’ve killed her?”

  “I’m thinking he would’ve had access and opportunity.”

  “But his own daughter?”

  “Maybe she made him angry. Maybe he was trying to punish her and got carried away, went too far.” He understood how that went, didn’t he? If his father wasn’t beating on him physically, he was pushing him in the gym.

  “The show suggested that exact scenario as their second favorite solution. But they couldn’t uncover any proof. I assume that’s why they went with the gardener. Who wants to believe a father could be so heinous?”

  No one. Only the mother was likely to know what the father was capable of. But if she was as cowed as his mother had been, it wouldn’t matter. The child would be left with no protection.

  Callie went through the rest of the group, telling him who everyone was and what each person did for a living. Noah Somebody owned a bike store. Baxter North commuted to San Francisco, where he worked as a stockbroker. Kyle manufactured solar panels.

  “So he’s rich?” Levi asked.

  “Kyle?”

  He nodded. In the picture, he wasn’t standing by Callie. He had his arm around someone else.

  “He’s not as rich as Simon and Gail,” she said. “But almost no one’s as rich as they are. Still, Kyle does very well for himself.”

  Levi looked back at the portrait. “Who’s this?”

  She’d already told him, but repeated the name. “Cheyenne. Pretty, isn’t she?”

  Not as pretty as Callie. None of the other women were as pretty as Callie.

  “But don’t get your hopes up,” she teased. “She just got married.”

  “And this person?” He pointed to someone else.

  “That’s Ted Dixon. He’s a thriller writer. Has a handful of books out. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”

  “No.” He’d neve
r done much reading, not even when he was in school. Homework and preparing for college—that hadn’t been nearly as important to his father as making sure Levi was lifting weights and learning new martial-arts moves. Leo had needed a prizefighter to put his dojo on the map. His own street cred had depended on it; so had the amount he could earn.

  Tina interrupted with a question for Callie, and Callie walked over to the computer to help. When she returned, she touched his arm. “You ready to go?”

  Levi pulled himself away from the portrait. He hadn’t expected it, but the unity and tranquillity of this town appealed to him.

  7

  Callie felt a hard lump in her stomach the moment she saw a police cruiser turn down her drive. She’d been out photographing the anthill again while Levi repaired the hinges on the back door of the barn. The roof would need even more work, but due to their trip to town, which had included some grocery shopping on the way home, they hadn’t gotten an early start. He fixed his motorcycle first, so he’d only been working on the barn for an hour. She was already walking to the house, planning what to make for dinner, when she saw that the cop was Tim Stacy, chief of Whiskey Creek’s four-man police force.

  Window down, arm hanging out, he didn’t seem to notice the dust being kicked up by his tires. He waved as if this was a friendly visit, but she suspected it wasn’t all that friendly. Although Chief Stacy was about ten years her senior, they’d known each other for years. She’d taken his children’s baby pictures. But if she had to guess, he wasn’t here for personal reasons. He’d come to get to the bottom of the dog incident. She wouldn’t have minded that, except it was probably at Denny and Powell’s insistence.

  And she knew Levi wouldn’t be pleased to learn the police were now involved....

  Masking her concern with a welcoming smile, she greeted Stacy as he got out. “Hi, Chief!”

  “Gorgeous evening, isn’t it?”

  “There’s no summer like a Whiskey Creek summer,” she said, although to her mind, fall was even more beautiful.

  He acknowledged her words with a jerk of his hat. “No, ma’am.”

  Leaving her camera on the wicker love seat by the front door, she stepped up to meet him as he reached the stairs. “What can I do for you today?”

  The way he studied her gave her the impression that he was weighing every reaction. “Word has it you have a guest.”

  “That’s true.”

  Thumbs hooked in his belt, he turned to survey the property until he heard Levi’s hammer ring out from the vicinity of the barn. Then, seemingly satisfied to have located the object of their conversation, he faced her again.

  “A drifter—that right?”

  The censure in those words, suggesting she was crazy to take Levi in, bothered her but she couldn’t blame Stacy. She knew her parents would feel the same. “I don’t know much about his personal situation,” she admitted. “But his name is Levi McCloud.”

  “Do you know where he’s from?”

  She felt as if every line he spoke had an alternate interpretation. This time he was asking if she’d looked into his background, at least to that extent. “Seattle,” she told him.

  “And you met him...”

  He already knew this. He was taking her through the basic facts to drive home a point. “Here. Night before last. He showed up at my door.”

  “Covered in blood. So you called emergency services.”

  “That’s right. Officers Willis and Jones came out, but he was gone by the time they got here.” And they couldn’t find him, even though they’d searched, because Levi had slipped into her bathroom. But she wasn’t going to volunteer that. It certainly wouldn’t make her actions look any more sensible—or his any less suspect.

  “That’s how I understand it, too.” He squinted at her. “So when did he come back?”

  “After they left.”

  “Because...”

  “He had no choice,” she explained. “He’d been attacked by two dogs and was in no condition to go elsewhere.”

  “See...this is where I get confused.” He pushed his hat up to scratch underneath it. “How’d he manage to elude my men if he was so badly hurt? Or maybe a better question would be...why would he go to the trouble?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” It was the truth, but she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.

  “Yet this man is staying here with you.”

  Denny and Powell had paid Stacy a visit, all right. Otherwise, how would the police chief know where Levi was?

  Or maybe Kyle or Godfrey had asked him to keep an eye on her.

  “Until he can get his motorcycle fixed, yes,” she said.

  “I see.” He sighed before glancing in the direction of the intermittent hammering. “You mind if I have a talk with him?”

  “Not at all,” she replied but, in a way, she did mind. If there was anything terrible in Levi’s background, she didn’t want to know about it. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she believed he needed a new start—that regardless of what had happened in the past, he’d suffered enough.

  “Levi?” she called. “Could you come to the house for a minute?”

  The hammering stopped. Callie felt certain he’d heard her. But he didn’t appear.

  “Levi?” she called again. “Chief Stacy would like a word with you.”

  Nothing. No answer.

  Finally, they walked to where he’d been repairing the door. Rifle was lying near the ladder, but Levi was gone. And when they searched the farm they couldn’t find him anywhere.

  * * *

  By the time Levi knocked at the farmhouse door, it’d been a good hour since the police had left. Levi had been wrestling with himself all of that time. He knew he should drive away and leave Whiskey Creek behind. It wasn’t wise to stay here. But, wise or not, he couldn’t go without fulfilling the promises he’d made.

  Maybe Callie would change his mind. Maybe she’d refuse to let him in. But she didn’t. She stared up at him for a second, then stepped back so he could walk past her. “Your dinner’s cold,” she said. “Come and sit down. I’ll heat it up.”

  “I can heat it up,” he responded, but either she didn’t hear him or she wanted to do it herself because she didn’t change course.

  “They’ll just come back later. You realize that,” she said as a plate of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy turned in the microwave.

  He’d chosen the seat on the far side of the table, where he’d sat for breakfast. “I do.”

  “By then you’ll have your bike fixed. Is that it?”

  “My bike’s already fixed. By then I’m hoping to have the barn finished.”

  She took some utensils out of the drawer and placed them in front of him, along with a glass of wine. “What are you afraid they’ll do?”

  “I told you.”

  “You’re afraid they’ll arrest you.”

  He stretched out his legs. “Basically.”

  “Over an unpaid speeding ticket.”

  There was also a warrant out for his arrest in Nevada, which was far more serious, but he couldn’t say anything about that. “Two unpaid speeding tickets.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen?” she asked.

  “Don’t know. And I don’t want to find out.”

  “Community service? Fines? Jail time?”

  “Probably jail time.” Definitely jail time, since the speeding tickets were the least of his worries.

  “Maybe they won’t realize you have those outstanding warrants.”

  “They will eventually.” If they ever figured out his real last name...

  The microwave shut off with a ding. “Right. They’re too curious about you,” she admitted as she retrieved his plate. “With Denny and Powell making you sound shady in an attempt to save their dogs, everyone will want to know who you are.”

  “It’d be best if I’m gone by the time they dig up too many details.”

  “That might not be long.”

&
nbsp; He understood that. But he didn’t want to go without keeping his end of the bargain. She’d put herself at risk to help him, and he wouldn’t forget her generosity. “We’ll play it by ear, see how much we can get done in the next few days.”

  “If you say so.”

  He certainly didn’t want to leave right now. The food smelled so good his stomach growled. He couldn’t remember ever enjoying meals as much as he’d enjoyed them since coming to Callie’s. He’d been to many roadside cafés in the past six months, but they couldn’t compete with her home cooking. What made it even better was that she seemed to like feeding him. At least, she smiled as she watched him eat whatever she put in front of him.

  “You haven’t asked where I went,” he said when he was about halfway through.

  “What are you talking about?” She was back at the counter.

  “When the police chief came.”

  She blew out a sigh. “Because I don’t want to know.”

  That made sense. Not knowing enabled her to be honest if he ever had to hide there again, which protected them both.

  “Want more?” she asked.

  “No, thanks.” He paused to look up at her. The dark circles under her eyes were more marked instead of less. “Have you eaten?”

  She started tidying up. “I had dinner earlier.”

  The memory of her, leaning on the table last night as if she didn’t have the strength to stand, popped into his mind. There was probably plenty she wasn’t telling him.

  But there was plenty he wasn’t telling her, too.

  “Eat just a few bites.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

  “Because you need the nutrients.”

  “Fine.” Taking his right hand, she ate the piece of chicken he had on his fork. “There you go,” she said with a laugh.

  The fact that she was willing to eat from his fork told him she wasn’t afraid he carried some sort of disease. It also drew his attention to her mouth.

  “You know how pretty you are, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

  She didn’t blush or glance away as he thought she might. Her eyes remained steady on his. No doubt she’d had her share of compliments. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever really looked at me.”