by Lilian Darcy
“Resentment kills off all the good feelings eventually, doesn’t it?” Harrison said, thinking of himself and Christie.
He stored away the comment Kate had made in passing about wanting kids of her own, like a squirrel storing a nut. He liked this woman. More than liked her. He could get serious about her. It seemed wrong and… just unlikely… to be concluding that about her so fast and on so little evidence, but he concluded it all the same.
I like her. I want to ask her out. See if it could go somewhere.
But the timing spooked him a little bit. His divorce had only been final for a few months. He still had this place, linking himself and Christie together. And Kate was only just starting to think about a new life for herself.
Don’t rush into anything, Harrison, he coached himself. Stay steady, stay rational. You’re not an idiot. Don’t be one now. You have to live in this town, and it’s a lot smaller than Helena. Wait a while.
Well, a few weeks, anyhow…
“We have one more place on our list,” Rick said, when they were back in the car. “Then I’ll drop you back at the office.”
This was where Kate had left her own vehicle, since Rick had preferred to do the driving, “so you can absorb your first impressions.”
She almost told him not to bother about the final place they were scheduled to view, but then she made herself be practical about it. She loved Harrison’s five acres and cute modern log home, but it was too crazy to think of buying it. It really was. Five acres, all by herself, when she would still be going out to help Rob on the ranch whenever she had free time. Realistically, she needed a place in town.
Rick showed her a two-bedroom apartment in a brand-new development right across the road from the elementary school, and just a few minutes’ walk from Marietta High. It had granite-look countertops in the kitchen and faux marble in the bathroom, and built-in closets in both bedrooms, and a balcony big enough for a barbecue in summer, and she hated it on sight.
No, Kate, be sensible.
How great would it be to have a two-minute walk to school, instead of a thirty-five minute drive? How great would it be to have a place that stayed clean because it was so new and compact and she was the only person in it?
How hard would it be to live in this clean little box, after spending her whole life in the air and dirt of a big Montana ranch?
“I’ll have a good think and call you next week,” she told Rick, when he dropped her back at her vehicle, parked in Main Street, outside his office.
“I’ll look forward to it,” he said.
CHAPTER FOUR
May, 1996
“It’s hot pink and backless, with a plunge neckline in front,” Neve Shepherd said. “I won’t be able to even think of wearing a bra.” She gave a laugh as she walked toward Kate through the lobby at Marietta High without sparing her a glance.
“But we were all going to wear red, you, me and Lorelai,” Gemma Clayton answered her. She sounded disappointed. “We planned to make a real splash together. We have our dresses already.”
Neve shrugged. “I changed my mind. I saw this new dress on Saturday in Bozeman and it was so much better than the red one, I couldn’t resist. It’s real silk, Italian fabric, with this knit, pleated section around the waist that’s so fine, it feels amazing.” She passed Kate, her walk containing its usual provocative swing of the hips, as practiced as a catwalk model.
“Well, hot pink will be perfect for your coloring,” Gemma Clayton said. “You’re sooo blonde.”
“The color’s called pearl luminesce. I wanted to go whiter for prom. And I’ll match the lipstick to the dress…”
The two seniors passed out of earshot on their way to the first class of the day, totally absorbed in their earth-shattering conversation about style choices for the upcoming prom. Kate felt a spurt of impatience about them. If they paid one quarter as much attention to their school work as they did to their social lives and fashion choices…
Girls this age were such a challenge sometimes, especially the sexually confident ones. Eighteen years old, or on the brink of it, so sure that the whole world was waiting for them, so sure they knew far more than anyone else about anything that was important.
In the case of Neve, especially, her knowing and too-mature sexuality was scary at times. Kate hadn’t been like that at eighteen and never would be. She was… shy, unsure of her own attractions. Every time she thought about Harrison Pearce she realized this afresh, and she thought about him too often.
Meanwhile, Neve’s grades were way lower than they could have been if she’d tried harder. She clearly thought it didn’t matter, that her beauty and style would be the only passports she needed for success in life.
Kate could have slapped her.
Wouldn’t do it, but gosh, there was a temptation.
Gemma concerned her in another way. There was something different about her lately, as if she inhabited an alternate universe more real to her than this one. She was going out with Garth Newell, going to prom with him, and that was a strange pairing Kate didn’t understand. Garth wasn’t very bright, wasn’t from a good family. He followed closely in his brother Judd’s footsteps, but without the charisma and brains that might… just might… allow Judd to make something of himself.
Kate wasn’t banking on that. She’d taught Judd five years ago, and there was a dark, unpleasant thread to his personality, cleverly hidden when he wanted it to be, beneath a façade of brooding good looks. He was twenty-two now, and she was sure he dealt drugs at the school, using Garth as a go-between. She had the idea that their father Warren was involved, also. She’d mentioned it to Principal Earnshaw, but she had no evidence, and the principal was counting his two years until retirement, now, and no longer had the energy for some of the tougher roles a high school principal needed to take on.
Which explained why she was the one standing in the entrance lobby just outside the school secretary’s office, waiting for Sheriff Pearce and a Marietta police department investigator to arrive at the school, to inspect the damage following a breakin over the weekend.
Her heart gave a sudden thunk.
Here were the sheriff and the detective now. They came up the concrete steps in front of the main building like twins, with a steady confidence to their walk that reminded Kate of the rock-like calm she liked in Harrison so much.
It was a month since she’d seen him, the day she’d toured his property for sale. Rick Styles had shown her several more places, including another two homes with attached acreage, three acres and two acres respectively. This kind of size was easier to contemplate than five acres, but she hadn’t loved the dwellings or the terrain.
In fact, the whole plan didn’t make sense. Not Harrison’s place, not any place with land. One of those smaller Victorian two-story homes at the far end of Bramble Lane would be much more sensible, since she really could not see herself in the brand-new condo, but the only Bramble Lane house that was currently for sale she didn’t like enough to—
“Kate,” Harrison said, reaching her. He looked happy to see her. His dark eyes contained an intent light and their focus was very steady.
“Hi,” she said. “I’ve been tasked to show you the breakin, since I was the one who found it.”
She knew she was blushing a little. They’d had such a great conversation, looking over his place last month. She’d had this shy, tentative little idea that he might call and ask her out, afterward, but he hadn’t and silly, romantic Kate had required a good, cheerful talking to from sensible, cynical Kate to put the idea out of her mind.
It was probably the three sets of glasses on your head and the four traffic violations, Kate. He thinks you’re a lunatic, and dangerous.
Harrison introduced the police detective, Greg Holding, who asked, “Has everything been left just as it was when you first saw it?”
“Um, yes, come this way and I’ll show you.” She almost took Harrison’s arm, pulling back just in time. It wasn’t the occasion f
or touching a man, for heaven’s sake, and especially not a man like this, in uniform! “There’s a lot of broken glass. Mr Earnshaw wanted to sweep it up, but I thought you both should see it first, on the chance there’s—”
Evidence. But she didn’t say this, in case they thought she’d been watching too many TV cop shows and crime dramas. Or in case she was gabbling.
“Good thinking,” Harrison said, and she felt ridiculously happy about the praise.
They smiled at each other, and her whole day changed.
“So how’ve you been?” he asked quietly. It was a long corridor, and the breakin was all the way at the other end.
“Good. Still hunting down real estate.”
“No decision yet?”
She sighed. “My heart and my head are telling me two different things, that’s the problem.”
“Know what you mean, there.”
Did he? He sounded as if he meant it, even though on the surface it was only a throwaway line. They reached the end of the corridor with no time for more conversation, and she stopped just before her shoes began crunching on the broken glass. “There.”
“Well, they’ve sure made a mess.”
“I know. I guess they rammed the glass from the outside and it all shattered inward.”
“What was taken?”
“Actually, nothing that we’ve been able to discover.” As soon as she said this, Detective Holding began taking notes. “This entrance is right opposite the music room, where we have some quite costly band instruments. The tuba and the drum set, for example. The trumpets and other brass wouldn’t fetch as much, but on the other hand they’re more portable, easier to hide and sell. If I were robbing the school, I’d go for these or the computers and televisions, but none of those have been touched, either, and we have three or four of each, in our media room.”
“This room usually kept locked?” Harrison asked.
The music room door was open now, and they went inside, but Kate told him, “Yes, it is. As you can see, though, there’s a glass panel in the door. It would be very easy to break that the same way they broke the outer door.”
“What about cash?” This was Detective Holding.
“The front office staff banks anything they receive on the same day it comes in. There’s never cash in the school overnight, let alone over the weekend.”
“And the building has no alarm?”
“No. There’s never been any reason to. It’s a small-town high school.”
“We’ve had alarms going off around town right, left and center, the past few weeks,” Detective Holding commented. “Grey’s Saloon five times, the Gun Mart four times, over at the strip mall.”
“The feed store a few times, too, beyond the town limits. That’s why we have two jurisdictions involved, town police and county sheriff,” Harrison said.
“Even the bank on Main Street a couple of times, although I don’t think anyone got inside it,” the detective added.
“So you think all the incidents are connected?” Kate asked.
“Seems that way,” said Detective Holding. “Has to be pranksters. There hasn’t been one report of anything stolen.”
“It’s strange,” Harrison agreed. “You’d think they’d be getting sick of it by now. We are, for sure!” He came back out of the music room and stood once more contemplating the shattered glass on the vinyl-tiled corridor floor. “And it’s strange that this glass is so widely scattered. Seems like they wanted to make sure someone noticed, or else to make it a real pain to clean up.”
“Which it will be,” Kate agreed. “We’ll get the cleaners on it as soon as you say we can.”
The detective took some photographs. “It can get cleaned up now, if you want,” he said, when he was done.
Harrison nodded. “Nothing more to see.” All the same, he bent down and took a good look at the scattering of glass, and Kate wondered if he was looking for clues. A cigarette end, or one of those things people always seemed to rather carelessly leave behind after murdering someone on TV. She was convinced that were she ever to commit murder—not a likely scenario, let’s face it—she would be far more diligent in covering her tracks.
“Pranksters,” the detective said again.
“Pranksters I’m starting to get pretty annoyed at,” Harrison answered.
“I’ll dust for prints. There haven’t been any at the previous alarms and breakins, and I have to think this is the same people.”
“Do it, for sure,” Harrison agreed, “but I doubt there’ll be anything useful.”
“Gotta keep to procedure.”
They went outside, with the police investigator picking his way carefully through the glass and using a handkerchief to open the door. Harrison and Kate followed, but there seemed nothing of interest to see outside. No handy mud footprints or tire tracks.
“Insurance will cover the repair?” Harrison asked.
“So Principal Earnshaw says.”
“Will he think about an alarm now?”
“That’s up to the school board, but with nothing taken, and no sense of anything vicious or dangerous about the breakin, I’m not sure they’ll think it’s warranted. It was probably just kids.”
“I’m going to head back,” Detective Holding said. They’d come in separate vehicles.
Harrison waited until he was out of earshot then asked Kate, “Do you have to get to class?”
“No, I’m free until next period.” She was a little confused. “Do you need me to help with the report?”
“No…” He looked embarrassed, boyish. “I—Okay, I want to ask you out, and I don’t want to have to rush it.”
“Oh.”
“Uh… if you think it’s a good idea, that is.” He stepped closer and she breathed him in, all the rightness of him, the strength and cleanness and calm, just the same as all the other times they’d met.
“I—Yes,” she said. “I think it’s a really good idea.”
He dropped his voice lower. “I’ve wanted to since you came and toured my place, but the divorce hasn’t been through long, and I told myself I should hold back.”
“Well, you did, I guess,” she said. “It’s been over a month.”
“I’m sorry you noticed.”
“No, no. It’s fine. That’s not what I meant.” Was he looking at her mouth? She wanted to look at his, but didn’t dare let her gaze drop. Those dark eyes of his seemed to see everything.
“Doesn’t matter what you meant,” he said. “As long as you meant it when you said it’s a good idea.”
“Oh, yes, I definitely meant that!”
They gave each other a bashful kind of grin, and gushed out twin sighs of relief. “Gee, I feel like I’m no good at this,” Harrison said.
“Better than I am.”
Neve Shepherd, for example, would be rolling her eyes in disgust.
“No, you were fine. You are fine. So can I pick you up Friday night, or something? Say seven o’clock?”
“Can’t be Friday. That’s prom, and I’m helping out.”
“Oh, right, I remember. So am I.”
“You are?”
“Playing chauffeur for my nephew and his friends.”
“Ah.”
He hesitated a moment, then said, “Is Wednesday too soon? I’m not supposed to do that. I’m supposed to give you some decent notice, as a courtesy. Or maybe as a power play. Do you care about things like that?”
“Power plays? No, not at all.”
“I meant the decent notice thing.”
“Not that, either. Wednesday would be fine.”
“Same idea? Pick you up at seven?”
“You don’t need to come all that way out to the ranch. Let me meet you somewhere in town.”
“Honestly, I can drive out.”
“No, really. I’ll come in. Or more likely I’ll stay in, after school.” She would need to bring a change of clothes and a towel, so she could shower in the gym. Then she had a horrible thought. Did he want
to pick her up because he still didn’t trust her driving?
Before she could say anything, he was speaking again. “Grey’s? We’ll have a drink and then go to dinner?”
“That would be great.”
“Kind of glad about this breakin, and seeing you.”
“Me, too.”
“Because otherwise it would have taken me a while to get up the gumption to call.”
“I think you have plenty of gumption.” Oh, boy, she really didn’t know what she was saying, at this point, she was just glad he’d asked.
It probably showed too much in her face.
Just along the corridor, she saw Gemma Clayton let herself out of a classroom and go scurrying along to the bathroom halfway along. She seemed in an awful hurry, and the bathroom door swung shut quite violently behind her.
“I’d better get going,” Harrison said.
“I’ll walk you out.”
They’d both turned tongue-tied now that they had the date signed, sealed and delivered, and the corridor was quiet in the middle of first period. On their way past the bathroom, Kate heard the sound of Gemma vomiting into a toilet and then flushing it fast.
She wondered about bulimia. Gemma was willowy thin, just like her best friend Neve. They could both have been models if they’d been just a little taller. Did Gemma have an eating disorder?
She also wondered about the conversation she’d overhead between Gemma and Neve about their prom dresses. Neve had said she’d “changed her mind,” but Kate suspected it was a deliberate way of making sure she stood out from the crowd. Even with her two best friends, Neve was never content to play second fiddle. She would have had that hot pink dress planned for months, especially if it really was Italian silk—not the kind of thing she would have easily picked up in Bozeman.
“You’re the one with the gumption,” Harrison said. He must have heard the sounds from the bathroom, also. “Couldn’t do what you do, teach a whole lot of teens, with all the problems they have.”
