by Kris Tualla
Miranda turned to Hollis. “You said he apologized?”
“Yep. He said it turned out to be a good decision after all and he was sorry for giving me such grief about everything.”
“Everything?” Campbell asked. “What is everything?”
Hollis waved a hand. “Oh, the whole ghost business. He thinks it’s dumb.”
The detective looked at his notes. “You were caught on camera with some sort of entity. And now the museum is encouraging spiritualists to investigate. Is that right?”
“They are paying for the opportunity,” Hollis clarified. “But yes.”
“Paying the museum? Hmm.” Detective Campbell met Hollis’s eyes. “What was on the camera?”
“He believes the image was fabricated in some way,” Sveyn warned.
Hollis faced the detective squarely. “I swear I am telling you the truth, Detective. I can’t explain what showed up then, any more than I can explain what the Ghost Myths, Inc. guys caught on their cameras.”
Sveyn shook his head. “You have said too much.”
“What did they see?”
Hollis rolled her eyes. “Watch the commercials. You’ll see.”
Campbell looked at his notes again. “Is it possible that some religious groups are trying to warn you away from this shift toward the occult?”
Hollis coughed a laugh. “If they are, then last night’s exorcism should appease them.”
His gaze shot up to hers. “Is that public knowledge?”
“No. Not yet.” Hollis looked at Miranda. “Maybe it should be?”
Miranda nodded. “We’ll talk after this and issue a press release.”
“All right.” Campbell leaned back in his chair. “Anyone else who might resent you for any reason?”
Sveyn leaned over and spoke in Hollis’s ear. “Matt’s wife cannot be pleased.”
Hollis’s eyes widened. “Suzan Wallace!”
“Who is she?”
How do I make this short? “I dated, lived with, and was engaged to a man for ten years. He broke up with me two years ago and married someone else soon afterwards.” Hollis wiggled a finger towards the detective’s notepad. “That’s Suzan with a Z.”
Detective Campbell nodded but his bland expression didn’t shift. “Go on.”
“This guy—Matt Wallace—showed up at the opening of the new wing claiming his marriage was a wreck and he wanted to reunite with me.” Hollis felt her cheeks getting tight. “I haven’t agreed yet, but he filed for divorce and has moved to Phoenix for a few weeks to try and convince me.”
“From where?”
“Milwaukee.”
Detective Campbell raised his brows. “Not to discourage you, but I’m from Minnesota. Moving to Phoenix for the winter has more than one draw.”
Rude. “That’s on him,” Hollis snapped. “I said I didn’t agree to anything.”
“Fair enough.” Campbell scribbled something on his pad. “What does Suzan Wallace know about you?”
Hollis scowled. “Whatever Matt told her, plus whatever’s on the internet.”
“So basically everything.”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“And sending a package to the museum—or having one delivered—would be easily done.” Campbell turned to Miranda. “Are there security cameras by the front doors?”
“Yes, and the back doors as well. I’ll see that the files are sent to you.”
“Neither delivery was to the back door, correct?”
“Right.”
The detective returned his attention to Hollis. “Anyone else you can think of?”
Hollis shook her head. “No, sir.”
Except Everett Sage, of course.
But he’s already in jail.
“All right then.” Detective Campbell closed his notepad and stood. He fished a business card from his shirt pocket. “Give me a call if you think of anything else, no matter how insignificant.”
Hollis accepted the card. “I will.”
*****
“Dead cats?” Matt asked over the phone. “That’s creepy.”
“Yeah. And cruel.” Hollis shuddered. “But I have to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“How mad is Suzan at you? Or me?”
The question was met with silence.
“Matt?”
“Are you suggesting that Suzan is doing this horrible thing? Really?” His tone was hard as granite.
Hollis winced. “No. But the detective asked me who might have a grudge against me and I did mention her name.”
“Oh, Hollis…”
“I don’t think it’s her, Matt,” Hollis repeated. “But I do want to know how upset she was when you told her why you filed for divorce.”
More silence.
“Matt?”
“I didn’t.”
Hollis slumped in her chair. “Didn’t what?”
“I didn’t mention you.”
“Does she know where you are?”
“Well, yes.” He cleared his throat. “She needs to know where to mail things. Documents.”
“So she knows you’re in Phoenix.” Hollis kept her voice level. “And when she Googles me, she’ll know I’m in Phoenix. You don’t think she’d put that together?”
“Why would she Google you?” The man sounded sincerely confused.
“You left me for her, Matt. Obviously I’m the first person she’d look for after you left her.” Hollis sighed her impatience. “She’ll want to know if you came back to me.” Duh.
Matt was silent again.
“The truth is, Matt,” Hollis said. “Men don’t leave unless they have somewhere to go.”
He drew a deep and audible breath. “Shit.”
Chapter Thirty
Hollis met Matt for dinner after begging and pleading with Stevie to talk George into joining them.
“It’s your first dinner together,” Stevie objected. “Why do you want company?”
“We had dinner last night, in my condo, after he arrived.” If you can call leftover sushi licked by a Viking apparition dinner. “And I really want to get your and George’s take on Matt. I don’t trust myself to be objective.”
Bless his heart, George was on board.
The quartet sat in a corner booth at a busy Mexican restaurant, crunching away on corn chips and salsa. Sveyn waited outside in the car. Or somewhere.
“I will still hear what you say,” he reminded Hollis. “So I will know with some certainty what the conversation entails.”
Though that uncomfortable reality colored her conversation, Hollis tried to be as natural as her nerves would let her.
Matt seemed to have regained his composure, following Hollis’s obvious but previously unconsidered revelation about female behavior in the twenty-first century. He remembered meeting Stevie and George at the opening of the Kensington wing, so that helped.
Once they placed their orders, George turned to Hollis, his expression grim. “I understand there was another ‘delivery’ today.”
Hollis nodded and avoided looking at Matt. “I now have an official case and an official detective working it.”
“He asked her if anyone held a grudge. She mentioned my soon-to-be ex-wife.” Matt apparently had no more qualms about throwing Suzan under the police bus.
Stevie gave a little gasp. “Do you think it could be her?”
“I didn’t at first,” Matt hedged. “But as I thought about it, she can be pretty vindictive when she wants to be.”
“What about you, Hollis?” George asked.
Hollis scooped a chip through the fresh but tame salsa. “I don’t know the woman, to be honest. But I figured she’s not happy with Matt, so she’s not happy with me by extension.”
Stevie faced Matt, her expression incredulous. “You told her you were going back to Hollis?”
“No.” Matt’s gold-streaked eyes jumped to Hollis’s. “But I have been assured that she knows.”
Stevie gave a little shrug. “That’s p
robably true. She would have done her Google and Facebook due diligence.”
Matt looked at George. “Does every woman know about this?”
“I guess so.” George pulled his surprised gaze from his fiancée. “We are screwed, my friend.”
“Oh, stop it.” Hollis wrinkled her nose. “It’s not like we are actual stalkers. But if the information is out there, then it’s out there. Simple as that.”
“And we’ll find it.” Stevie smiled sweetly at George.
The waitress arrived with their dinners. “Be careful, the plates are hot.”
Said every waitress in every Mexican restaurant ever.
Hollis risked touching hers and then adjusted its position on the table. “Why do they heat the plates so much, do you think?”
Stevie giggled. “So they can say that.”
Once everyone was situated, George turned another grim expression toward Hollis. “Did you give this detective the obvious name?”
“What obvious name?” Hollis asked, her mouth full of very hot enchiladas.
George’s brow wrinkled. “Everett Sage.”
Hollis coughed red sauce onto her plate.
Matt pounded her back. “Drink some water.”
Hollis took a big gulp of the ice water and got immediate brain freeze. She winced, rubbed her forehead, and stared at George. “I thought he was in prison.”
George nodded. “He is.”
“So how?”
“He has money. Lots of it.” George sipped his margarita. “With resources like that he can get things done, even from behind bars.”
Hollis’s shoulders slumped. “You think Everett Sage is doing this from prison?”
Sveyn appeared by her side. “I want to hear this.”
She didn’t argue with him.
“Let me talk to the detective,” George said calmly. “If there is any chance it’s Sage, he’ll be able to put a stop to it. Solitary confinement or whatever.”
“Less than the miscreant deserves,” Sveyn grumbled.
Hollis dug Detective Campbell’s business card from her purse and handed it to George. George put the policeman’s contact info in his phone and handed the card back to Hollis.
“I’ll call him tomorrow.” He patted Hollis’s hand. “Let’s talk about happier things.”
“Yes.” Stevie’s eyes twinkled dangerously. “Like why you want Hollis back.”
“Stevie!” Hollis’s face burst into flames. “That’s not—”
“Actually, I’d like to answer that,” Matt interrupted.
“Really?” Stevie grinned. “Okay, spill.”
Sveyn leaned against the next table. “I am interested as well.”
“Ugh!” Hollis covered her face with fists gripping her bright green napkin. “Somebody just shoot me now.”
Matt pulled her hands down. “Will you please listen like a grown-up for once?”
For once?
What did that mean?
Hollis forced a smile. “Sure. Let it rip.”
Matt faced Stevie and George. “I first met Hollis at the University of Wisconsin—Milwaukee on an overly warm September afternoon. Between the unexpected heat and the normal humidity, she was an out-of-control cloud of wild red curls and the bluest eyes I have ever seen. It was over in that moment. My heart was claimed.”
Hollis wagged her head. “You’ve always said it was love at first sight, but you didn’t ask me out for six more weeks.”
Matt turned his amazing eyes to hers and her heart lurched precariously. “One does not rush a goddess, my love. I couldn’t risk scaring you away.”
Sveyn crossed his arms. “He makes a point.”
Shut up.
And go away.
Stevie rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “Tell us about your first date.”
Matt’s expression brightened. “Ah! The art museum.”
As Hollis squirmed inwardly, Matt outlined the progression of their relationship in a fair amount of embarrassing detail. With each life step forward—dating, going steady, graduating, moving in together, and getting career jobs—he sang Hollis’s praises.
Listening to him tonight, it was impossible to believe that he ever walked out on her.
In the midst of Matt’s romance-novel-worthy love story, Hollis experienced a jolting moment of clarity.
“And then,” she said. “You met Suzan.”
George, Stevie, and Matt all startled, the spell of his narration abruptly broken. Matt’s cheeks flushed burgundy.
“Yes,” he admitted after a pause. “Then I met Suzan. And made the worst string of decisions in my life.”
*****
Matt kissed her goodnight for a solid fifteen minutes. It would have been longer if the night hadn’t grown so cold and Hollis hadn’t refused to make out in the car like teenagers.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he whispered.
Hollis looked up into his eyes, black in the restaurant’s dim parking lot light. “Sure. You can come with me when I shop for the white elephant gift for Miranda’s Christmas party. Unless you don’t want to play.”
“Oh, no! I’ve heard her white elephant exchange is legendary.” Matt grinned. “Send me the rules so I can start planning our strategy.”
“I’ll forward the email when I get home.” Hollis planted one last kiss on Matt’s lips then stepped away. “Goodnight.”
Sveyn was in the car, waiting for her. Hollis started the engine and cranked up the heat. “Most people think Phoenix is warm all the time.”
Sveyn tipped his head toward hers. “It is. From what I understand, it never snows and seldom freezes.”
“Snow has fallen,” she corrected.
“But it melts right away, does it not?”
“Unless the ground is frozen.”
“Which it never is.”
Hollis stuck out her tongue at him. “My point is, sometimes the nights do get below thirty-two. And with a breeze, fifty degrees is chilly.”
Sveyn laughed. “Duly noted.”
Hollis backed out of her spot and turned toward the street. “So what did you think of Matt tonight?”
“Do you mean what do I think about what he said?”
“Everything.” She glanced at the Viking lounging in her passenger seat. “All of it.”
Sveyn seemed to draw a breath. “I am still convinced he is here because he believes you to be a safe haven.”
“I can understand that. We’ve known each other a long time,” Hollis conceded. “But what’d you think about what he said about me?”
Sveyn leaned forward so he was in her peripheral vision. “I would not have waited six weeks.”
“You said he had a point about not scaring me off.”
Sveyn chuckled. “I would not have scared you. I would have taken time and gentled you into my arms. Two weeks and you would have been mine.”
Two weeks and I was yours.
Stop it. This is about Matt. “Do you trust him?”
“That is an interesting question.” Sveyn leaned back in his seat again. “I do believe he trusts himself.”
Hollis frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means, that if he is being untruthful to you, it is because he is being untruthful to himself first.”
Hollis drove without speaking, trying to puzzle out what the Viking was actually saying. Just before she pulled into her condo complex, she said, “You don’t think he loves me.”
“That is not what I said.”
“So explain it to me. Apparently I’m an idiot.” She took the turn a little too fast.
Sveyn didn’t answer until she shifted the car into park. “It is my opinion that Matt thinks he is in love with you.”
Hollis turned her head toward him. “Isn’t that the same as being in love with me?”
“No.” Sveyn slid through the door, exiting the car.
Ugh.
Vikings.
Hollis opened her door, got out, slammed it shu
t and locked the car. Sveyn was halfway to her front door.
“How is it different?” she called to his back.
He turned around and watched her approach. “Someday, he will be required to act on his love for you. If he does what is asked of him, then his love for you is true.”
“But if he doesn’t, then he was lying to himself.” Hollis stomped past Sveyn to unlock the door. “Is that it?”
“Yes.”
She spun to face him. “And you think that if that time—”
“When,” he interrupted. “When that time comes. Because it will.”
“Fine. When that time comes, you think he’s going to bail?”
Sveyn’s brows pulled together. “Bail?”
“Jump out. Like an airplane. With a parachute.” The double meaning of her analogy hit her in the gut.
With a parachute; another safe haven.
Sveyn nodded. “Ah, yes. I saw parachutes in the German war. Bail is what I mean. He will jump out of your relationship.”
“And land safely somewhere else?” she snapped.
Sveyn gave her a sympathetic look. “That was your choice of words, Hollis. Not mine.”
Wednesday
December 23
Hollis read through the list of requirements for Miranda’s white elephant gift exchange while Matt looked over her shoulder. She smelled his aftershave, and the scent took her back over two years to when she thought they were happy together.
“There must be three components that relate to each other. Only one can be new. And the total value must be between twenty-five and forty dollars.”
“Is there a size requirement?”
“Nope.”
Matt’s gaze swept the Goodwill. “The hunt begins. Let’s find the weirdest thing we can and build from there.”
Hollis hurried back to the housewares. “Too bad we can’t give away something from Ezra’s hoard,” she said to Sveyn who was helping in the search. “That stone dildo would be hilarious.”
“Look at this.” He pointed to a bright turquoise object lying on its side. “What is this used for?”
Hollis picked it up. “Oh my gosh! It’s a ladle shaped like the Loch Ness Monster.” She grinned at Sveyn. “When it is in a pot of soup, it’ll look like there’s a dinosaur in there.”
