by Raven Snow
“I guess.” Rowen looked back up the stairs. “Willow!” she yelled again. “Are you ready or what!”
“Give me a minute!” came a shout back down the stairs.
“Get a few more pictures,” Tiffany told Lydia, quietly.
Aunt Lydia began to dutifully snap more pictures. “Oh, come on. Why?” Rowen stood there sheepishly in the flash, not sure whether to smile or not. She really was in a hurry.
“You never went to prom,” Tiffany said, sadly. “I never got any prom pictures.”
“Mom, I got married. You have wedding pictures now.” Rowen looked back up the staircase. Willow was finally coming down. If Rowen was any judge, she was looking prettier than she was. Her blond hair was in a tight bun that sparkled with sparingly placed jeweled bobby pins. Her dress was white and billowy. She looked like an angel or a muse or something. She was lovely.
“Oh.” Nadine beamed and prodded Lydia in the arm, trying to get her to aim her camera in this direction.
“Your girls are looking lovely,” Aunt Lydia told her sisters. “I wish my Rose could have gone.”
“We decided it was better if Willow came along,” Rowen said, holding her hand out for Willow. She had chosen some less than practical heels that were giving her some difficulties on the stairs.
Aunt Lydia lowered her camera. “You mean my Rose wanted to go with you?”
“Yes,” said Rowen. “But we decided that might cause a scene, so--”
“So, you took Willow?” Aunt Lydia looked positively scandalized.
Aunt Nadine frowned at her sister. “Don’t blame Willow for this. Someone has to go with Rowen. Why not my Willow?”
“Oh, hush. You already got your prom pictures.” Aunt Lydia snatched her camera out of Nadine’s reach when she made a grab for it.
Tiffany hadn’t missed a beat. She was still smiling and looking at her daughter and niece with an unmistakable expression of pride. “You two have fun. Don’t get into any trouble now.”
Still holding on to Willow’s hand to steady her, Rowen headed for the door. “Come on. We should get out of here,” she said over the sound of her aunt’s bickering.
“Have fun!” Aunt Nadine called once she saw that they were leaving.
Even Aunt Lydia relented with a sigh. “Yes, yes. Have fun… I guess. Say hello to Darren for me. Rose says he’s getting divorced soon, and that man has aged well.”
“Don’t mention the divorce to anyone,” Rowen snapped over her shoulder as she headed for the car. Geez, her family was such a handful.
“How do I look?” Willow asked, once they were outside.
“You look amazing,” Rowen assured her. She was beginning to fear that Eric had been right, though. Maybe they should have dressed down for this. Willow was definitely going to draw some eyes her way.
“Hey!” a voice shouted from somewhere above them. Rowen looked up to see Peony leaning out her bedroom window on the second story. “I think it’s really rude you didn’t invite me!”
Rowen rolled her eyes. These people were impossible. “Come on,” she said, tugging Willow along. “Let’s get out of here before Grammy breaks out of jail to come slow us down, too.”
The Channel 2 parking lot was packed with cars by the time they got there, so Rowen had to find a spot across the street. “Not the most elegant entrance,” she complained as they tried to cross the street as quickly as possible in heels and without being hit. “You remember everything, right?” She had brought Willow up to speed on the way over.
Willow nodded. “First order of business, find Benji.” She tucked a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. “I was going to do that anyway.”
“Do you like him?” asked Rowen, since they were alone. She honestly couldn’t tell. Willow had had so many different boyfriends. To be honest, she had never really been able to tell when and how much Willow actually liked a guy. She was distressingly hard to read, and Rowen was always so good at getting a feel for everyone else.
“Sure,” said Willow, which wasn’t terribly encouraging. “He’s cute. I’ve mentioned that, haven’t I? He’s super cute.”
“But do you like him as a person?” Rowen urged.
“I don’t have any plans to break up with him any time soon, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s not really what I mean, but all right.” They were at the front doors. The time for private conversations was over. This was probably the first time Rowen was going in through the front doors of this place like a civilized human being. It had a nice little marble tiled lobby with polished black floors that shown like mirrors. The room was currently staffed with a couple of people in tuxes who looked like they had been hired for the event. Rowen presented their tickets and they were escorted on through to the sound stage where the gala was taking place.
There were more things that went on at the Channel 2 building than just the news. There were some public access shows that were filmed there. None of it was very high budget or anything, but Lainswich took its local programming surprisingly serious. Rowen couldn’t tell what had been filmed on this particular sound stage. Everything had been moved aside to make room for tables and chairs and a dance floor. There was even a stage set up. No one was standing on it at the moment, but there was a projection behind it running a highlight reel of some of Channel 2’s work from throughout this past year on a loop. The whole place was filled with Lainswich’s finest, business owners and the like. There were some people she didn’t recognize there either, maybe people and investors from neighboring towns like Tarricville. At least Rowen assumed that was where they had to be from. Lainswich didn’t exactly have a very big population, much less a large population of the rich and fabulous.
Rowen realized she had made a slight miscalculation in the dress department. Most of the women here appeared to be of the older variety. They weren’t old like Seraphina was old either. These women had very much embraced a certain refined dignity. There were a lot of long sleeves and high collars.
If Willow noticed, she didn’t care. Maybe she was just used to being the center of attention. She was a very pretty girl, after all. “I think I see Benji,” she said, pointing in the direction of a table that held food. Her heels might not have been practical, but they did offer her a height advantage. Rowen let her lead the way.
Benji was indeed next to the food. He was standing there with Craig, munching on crackers and looking terribly awkward. He’d dressed in a suit for the occasion, but it didn’t fit him right. He kept tugging at the sleeves like he could make them fit his arms somehow. It looked like this was the same suit he had worn to prom or something. Craig was fairing a little better, if only because his suit actually fit. He wasn’t wearing it quite right. His jacket was hanging open and his shirt was untucked. It looked deliberate. His mussed up brown hair was even gelled. Rowen supposed it lent him some slacker chic, but it wasn’t really her thing.
“Surprise!” Willow sang out, throwing up her arms, jumping out in front of Benji, and doing just about the opposite of not drawing attention to either of them.
Benji jumped, spilling a couple of his crackers from his plate and onto the floor. His eyes moved over Willow, darting as if scared at first. He recognized after a moment and relaxed all at once. “Oh. Oh, Willow… Willow? What? What are…” he trailed off, looking very lost. He seemed distracted even from that question when he got a good look at her. “Wow, you look, ah, gorgeous. You look gorgeous.”
Willow beamed and gave him a spin. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Craig was watching, also looking uncertain. He managed a smile when Rowen made eye contact with him. “Hey.”
Rowen gave him a nod. “Is your friend Frank here with you too or are you each other’s dates tonight?”
“Frank skipped out. It’s not mandatory. If it’s not mandatory, he’s not going to show up for something like this.”
“How did you guys get in here?” asked Benji,
finally coming to his senses long enough to ask the obvious question. “Who can afford tickets? I couldn’t get extra tickets, and I work here.”
“You’re an intern,” Craig corrected. “If you were an actual employee, you can get an extra ticket if you need one.”
“You didn’t have anyone you wanted to bring?” asked Benji, giving Craig a surprised look.
Craig didn’t answer his question. He sighed. “I’m gonna go get a drink,” he said, heading for the bar nearby.
“A fan sent them in,” said Rowen, bringing the conversation back to the tickets. “She has too much money and, I suppose, thought it would be a laugh if we came to this thing. She might be here tonight herself for all we know. She didn’t sign her last name on the envelope they came in.” Rowen and Eric had already concocted a very elaborate story. Maybe it was a little too elaborate. Benji was giving her a sort of vacant expression like this was more back-story for the ticket than he had been prepared to receive.
“Well, that’s good,” said Benji. He smiled a bit more genuinely at Willow. “I’m glad you could make it. This thing is a little more boring than I’d thought it would be.”
“What’s the schedule like?” asked Rowen. She knew he was trying to just talk to Willow, but she cut in. It would be good to know if they had any events planned. That way they could time things a little better. “I mean, is anyone speaking or anything? Is there an auction?”
“There’s a silent auction,” said Benji, looking like he wasn’t sure why she even cared. He pointed to some tables off at one corner of the room. “I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing. They’ll announced that at the end of the night, I guess.”
“Well, I don’t have enough money for that,” said Willow, taking Benji by the hands. “C’mon. Let’s dance.”
“Dance?” Benji looked uncertain. “I don’t really dance.”
“Oh, come on.” It didn’t look like Willow was about to take no for an answer. She began to drag him off toward the dance floor. “They’re not even playing anything fast. This is all slow dance music. Anyone can slow dance.”
“I can’t,” Benji insisted. “I’ve got no rhythm.”
“Anyone can slow dance.” Willow insisted. Benji finally relented and let himself be led away.
Rowen might have been annoyed at Willow for abandoning her so quickly, but it was probably for the best. Anything less might have been suspicious, and it wasn’t like they could slip away after just getting here. Still, that left Rowen without anything to do in the meantime. She scanned the room, wishing desperately that Eric was here. Maybe his presence would have been a little awkward, but he was good at this sort of thing. He knew what to say and do around wealthy people. Rowen certainly didn’t know what to do. She wished she could be as carefree as Willow.
After standing there alone for a couple of minutes, she headed for the bar. What else was there to do? Maybe a drink would calm her nerves. She ordered some wine, because that seemed classier and less alcoholic than what she might have ordered otherwise. Turned out it was free, so at least there was that. She got her wine and was sipping at it before she realized she was standing next to Craig. He probably realized before now but wasn’t going to say anything. He still smiled when they made eye contact. That seemed to be his thing, only socializing when it was absolutely necessary.
“Do you come to this thing every year?” asked Rowen, feeling obligated to start some small talk.
Craig nodded. “Yeah. Most years. I usually bring a date, though. It’s not really fun without a date. Not sure why I came this year.”
Rowen gave what she hoped was a sympathetic grimace. “Yeah, being here alone sort of sucks. At least Willow and Benji are having fun, I guess.” She pointed to the dance floor.
Craig looked toward where she was pointing. An idea seemed to occur to him then. “Hey, you wanna dance?”
Rowen hadn’t seen that sort of suggestion coming from someone like Craig. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Yeah, why not?” It was only slow dancing. She let him lead her to the dance floor. There was a live band playing slow, classical tunes. Rowen wondered how much they spent on this thing. Whatever they sold at that silent auction had to be worth quite a bit for this shindig to do better than break even.
There weren’t many couples on the dance floor. There were a couple of tipsy looking older couples. There was an older gentleman with what looked like a scantily clad trophy wife. (So at least they wouldn’t be the only ones turning heads. They just might be mistaken for someone’s trophy wife.) Willow and Benji were on the dance floor too. It looked like Benji hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t dance. He was a mess out there, stepping on Willow’s feet every few steps.
Craig proved to be a slightly better dancer. After the initial awkwardness of placing a hand on Rowen’s waist, things got easier. He had decent rhythm. Soon enough, moving to the music became effortless. “How’s the paper going?” he asked to fill the silence.
“Well enough,” said Rowen. “Most of the stories are about Jerry, of course.”
Craig’s expression grew a bit more serious as he nodded. “Sucks that that whole internal investigation thing is going on before they’ve figured out who… you know. Before they find whoever murdered Jerry.”
“Yeah,” Rowen agreed. “I hate this whole thing. The internal investigation, I mean. I hate how Channel 2 is covering it.” She quickly shook her head. This wasn’t exactly an appropriate conversation to have with Craig. Though, it did remind her that there was something she had been meaning to ask him. “Hey, I know this probably isn’t the best time, but I was wondering… I was talking to Frank recently. He heard that Jerry had a couple of cameras for personal use.”
Craig shrugged. “Yeah, of course. He was into all that stuff. I gave every camera I could find to the police.”
“Of course,” said Rowen. She had suspected as much.
“You still helping them?” asked Craig. “The police, I mean.”
“It’s been a little quiet on Ben’s end. He has other stuff on his plate and, like your friend Frank said, I’m just one of those kooky psychics that police consult with sometimes.” Rowen didn’t feel like that was revealing too much. He already knew about the investigation derailing this murder case a bit. Rowen’s help wasn’t necessary. Worse than that, spending too much time around the Greensmiths while he was under scrutiny wasn’t going to reflect well on him.
“I don’t think that.” Craig tripped a bit as they turned. He managed to steady himself and continue before he missed more than a couple of beats. “Sorry. What I mean is, I don’t think you’re a kooky psychic.”
“You don’t think I’m kooky? Or you don’t think I’m psychic? Or both?”
“The kooky one,” said Craig. “I’ll reserve judgment on the psychic part. Point is, I like to keep an open mind.”
That was kind of endearing. Rowen smiled. “I appreciate that. This day and age, that’s sort of rare.”
“So, can you, like, communicate with the dead and stuff?” He stumbled through the question a bit, like maybe it was improper to ask.
Rowen kept smiling, hoping to reassure him. “Don’t worry. Everyone asks stuff like that.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “And, yes, I can.”
Craig’s eyes widened just a bit. He seemed skeptical but interested. “Did you… Did you try contacting…” He trailed off, but it was clear who he was asking about.
“I did.” Rowen nodded. “But he didn’t answer me. Sometimes, they don’t. A lot of times they don’t, actually. Sometimes, they’ve already moved on. I like to think that’s a good thing.”
Craig nodded back at her. He looked to be lost in thought. “Weird he’d move on after… how he died, isn’t it?” asked Craig, which was a fair point. “Does that mean it was really an accident or there are no hard feelings between him and his killer or what? Is that unusual in these circumstances?”
“Not really.” Rowen didn’t have much experience with dying,
but she supposed it was different for everyone. “Some people just move on to whatever it is that comes next. They’re done with business here. It’s our job to tie up the loose ends down here and make sure whoever did the deed gets punished for it.”
“I’m going to miss him.” Craig slowed to a stop now that the song they were dancing to was ending. “We all are, I think.”
“I can imagine.” Rowen stopped as well, joining in the light applause for the band as they readied for the next song. She wasn’t sure she wanted to stick around on the dance floor for it.
“I hope you catch him, but… Well, you’re off the case I guess.”
“For now.” Rowen didn’t see any point in telling him she was still looking into things on the side.
“So, if you have some spare time…” Craig glanced away, his face growing a bit red all of a sudden. “I don’t suppose you’d like to grab some dinner with me or something? Maybe go to a movie? Coffee? Whatever.”
Rowen stared. She hadn’t anticipated this. Oh no, had he thought her agreeing to dance with him meant something? Craig must have read her expression, because he began to quickly backpedal. “I’m married,” Rowen blurted before he could. “That is, I’d be happy to go out with you sometime, but I’m married, so…” That was a lie. Craig wasn’t really her type. He didn’t need to know that, though. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.” Lainswich was such a smile town and the Greensmiths were so infamous in it, she always just assumed everyone knew everything about her.
“Oh,” said Craig. He didn’t say anything else for what felt like an uncomfortably long time. A new song was starting up. They were the only people on the dance floor not dancing. They probably didn’t intend to either, not after what had just happened. “Sorry about that. I just… I didn’t think… Geez, I have the worst luck picking out ladies.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Rowen looked off to one side, looking for some excuse to wander off. Willow was already dancing with Benji again. It seemed even more awkward to drag her away from that. She spotted Darren, though. That looked promising. Risky, but promising. “I’ll be right back. I need to go talk to your boss. It looks like he has a moment to himself, and I’d like to grab him while he’s not busy.”
