44: Book Six (7 page)

Read 44: Book Six Online

Authors: Jools Sinclair

Tags: #Mystery, #ghosts, #paranormal romance, #Christmas

BOOK: 44: Book Six
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“Stop it,” I whispered, following him. “You’re crazy. He’s like 35.”

“A hot 35. Okay, but I get it. Maybe a little short. But don’t tell him I said that. He’s like one of my biggest fans.”

“Of course he is,” I said.

“No, he really is. He teaches English and loves the theater. He goes to all our productions. He said I was really good.”

“You
are
really good, David. You don’t have to take some professor’s word for it. A lot of people tell you the same thing.”

“You’re right. Anyway, I realize that my timing might not be the best regarding ski lessons. But when love comes a knockin’ you best not keep it waiting. But I get the feeling Patti Smith over there doesn’t know the first thing about love either.”

“Hey, lover boy, Patti Smith knows plenty about love,” Mo said. “Just ask Fred Sonic Smith.”

“Okay, I don’t even know,” David said, looking at me. “In any case, I’ve been skiing before. When I was a kid. I was told I’m very flexible. And believe me, I’ve had loads of practice since then. I mean, being flexible.”

He laughed and went back and reached below the counter, turning up the music as he eyed Mo.

“But, Abby Craig, I wouldn’t mind a lesson or two if you have the time,” he said in a soft voice. “You know, just to get me up on my feet. I don’t want to come across as a total beginner with Sven. I want to look, you know, sporty.”

Now I laughed. I didn’t really know how sporty looked, but I was pretty sure David wouldn’t be the poster boy for it.

“What?” he said, snapping his towel into my arm. “Quit it. Just quit it right now! Anyway, I do recall you mentioning something about wanting to get up to the mountain this season.”

Sometimes the size of my mouth and my inability to keep it shut was only rivaled by David.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to reclaim it or something?”

I hadn’t been back on a snowboard since the accident. It had even been longer since I had been skiing. I knew I had my balance back, knew that I probably could do it again now, but whenever I gave it any serious thought, I felt my calves grow weak.

Even after everything I had been through, it scared me. Still. Maybe it was the simple fact that being up on the mountain would be forever linked in my mind with the accident and Jesse’s death. But I knew it was wrong to live like that. After Clyde, I promised myself that I would head back up there. That I would take back the things I could take back. Little victories.

“So, you’re going to have your first lesson and then ski down the mountain with me?”

David laughed.

“No, silly. I’ll be your cheerleader as you come down the slopes. That’s what you call them, right? I’m using the right lingo?”

“Cheerleader?”

No, slopes.”

I was playing with him.

“Yeah, ‘slopes’ is good,” I said.

“Well, isn’t it like riding a bike? And other things?”

“I suppose.”

I sensed he wasn’t going to be talked out of it. And I reckoned I should be there to minimize the damage and pick up the pieces if it came to that.

“Okay, but let’s wait until after your audition,” I said. “The day after you get back or the day after that.”

“Yay, perfect, Abby Craig!” he said, throwing his arms around me. “You’re the best!”

 

 

CHAPTER 19

 

The wind was strong, blowing through the pines on the sides of the track. I shivered for the first couple of laps before shaking off the cold. A mass of gray and white clouds sped across the sky above me. Snow was in the forecast again, but I had started to lose faith. Snow had started to feel like Santa Claus. Like it would never come.

I slowly started picking up my speed with each lap. I hoped I could get to that place where my mind turned off. But there was no guarantee. In any case, there was something about strenuous exercise that made everything seem better. And I often came away with a new perspective on things and, sometimes, a solution to a problem.

Thoughts of the ghost came up, but I didn’t fight. I just went with it, keeping my emotions out of the picture. My mind replayed the images while my legs churned around the track. The snowy alley. The body. The blood.

I had done a more thorough internet search but had again come up with nothing. Kate hadn’t turned up anything useful on her end either. There was no record of a body being found anywhere near Tin Pan Alley in the last 30 years.

Maybe I was wrong about the location of the alley. Maybe it was a different alley in a different town. I didn’t think so. Kate was going to expand her search anyway.

I had seen the ghost twice now in real life and several times in visions. But I wasn’t making any progress.

It started raining. I thought about how this storm would eventually make its way to Montana. I thought about Ty.

I wasn’t making any progress there either.

And there was nothing I could think of to do about it. I loved Ty and had told him so. I felt that deep down in his heart he believed that. But he had heard me say those words, and I couldn’t take them back. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be the truth. I knew now that I would never stop loving Jesse. It was just part of who I was, just like seeing ghosts was part of who I was.

I was going around in circles. I had reached the same conclusion before. Ty had a lot on his plate and I couldn’t blame him for needing time. Still I wished I could turn back time to that summer night, so far away now, so out of reach, under the shadows of Broken Top, under the stars.

The miles passed under my feet, four, five, six, but I wasn’t finding any peace or any kind of breakthrough. I decided to stop at seven.

On my last lap, I felt the phone vibrate in my pocket. I slowed down and pulled it out.

It was Ty.

“Hi,” I said, breathless.

“Good to know I still have that effect on you,” he said.

“That’s for sure,” I said. “But I was out here on the track.”

“You want to call back?”

“No, now’s good. I was just thinking about you actually. I’m glad you called.”

“I’m glad I called too then.”

“I wanted to tell you something,” I said. “I’ve been seeing ghosts again. I thought you should know.”

“I’m happy you told me,” he said after a brief delay. “I want you to tell me those things.”

He didn’t ask for any details and I let it go. Maybe that was enough, me telling him. It didn’t have to become his life too. I could live with that.

“Listen, Abby, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back in Bend tomorrow.”

The embers of hope inside me, almost burned out, blew back to life.

 

 

CHAPTER 20

 

“You can still stay with Erin, you know,” Kate said to David. “She wouldn’t mind.”

We were all sitting in the living room, watching TV. David was on the leather sofa with an almost empty martini glass in his hand, eyeing the bottle of
Absolut
vodka sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He swirled the dirty martini around in his glass, and then gulped it back. The rank smell of olive juice filled the air.

David had brought over the cocktail supplies earlier, and had tried to get Kate and me to join in, but we knew better. The drink, a mix of olive juice, vermouth, and vodka, smelled awful and tasted worse. I wasn’t sure if David even really liked them. I think he just drank them because he thought they were something Detective Slocum would drink.

“Hey, how do you think I would look with those gray wings in my hair?” he asked, pointing when the character named Paulie came on the screen. The odd contrast of light against dark hair made him look like he was related to the Bride of Frankenstein.

“I don’t know,” Kate said. “Like a lunatic?”

We were watching the final episode of
The Sopranos
. I’d never seen the show before, but David had wanted to see it before his audition because one of the producers on the show had worked on
The Sopranos
.

“Aw, c’mon, fashion diva Craig,” he said to Kate. “I could totally pull that look off and you know it.”

“Well, if you want to try, go ahead,” she said. “Just don’t do it before tomorrow. You want to stand out, but not in that way, if you know what I mean.”

David poured more vodka in his glass. I held out my Mirror Pond beer to him for a toast. Kate joined in with her glass of white wine.

“To your audition tomorrow,” I said. “You’re going to kill it. I just know it.”

“Yeah,” Kate said. “Go get ‘em, David.”

“Aw, Thanks, Sista Craigs. That just makes me feel all warm and cozy inside. Thanks guys, too, for the good luck dinner. Girlfriend can cook, right, Katie Craig?”

Kate glared at him.

“Okay, Kate Craig. Sorry.”

“He’s right,” she said, looking at me. “That’s why I had to change into sweats. Something to do with how delicious it was and my two huge servings. Awesome flavors.”

I had made a version of a chicken pot pie, Thai style, making it with a green curry sauce and a rich, buttery pastry. David loved Thai food, so I made it especially for him.

“And I’m so happy you guys are willing to watch the ending of one of my favorite shows,” he said. “Come on, really. This episode is amazing.”

Kate sighed. Unlike me, she’d seen all six seasons of the show.

“I liked the show, but I hate this last episode. I hate endings like that. If you’re going to go to the trouble of putting out a show for that many years, then finish it, damn it. You know what I mean? Don’t just leave me hanging in a diner with Journey playing on the jukebox.”

“Hey,” David said. “Don’t knock Journey.”

He started singing the intro to
Don’t Stop Believing
.

“Nothing against Steve Perry or anyone in yellow leopard shirts,” Kate said. “But I just expect more from a show like that.”

I smiled, not sure what they were getting so worked up over.

“I love the good cliffhanger,” David said. “You go to work the next day and talk about all the possibilities of what happened. It’s fun. It makes the audience think.”

“But not in a series,” Kate said, putting down her empty wine glass. “You put hours and hours into a watching a show, and then they just don’t write an ending for it? That’s just dumb.”

He shrugged.

“Okay, Mama Kate, maybe it’s an age thing.”

He took another sip from his drink, smiling and raising his eyebrows and then looking at me.

“What are you talking about?” Kate said. “I’m not that much older than you.”

“Ha! Maybe you aren’t, but even you gotta admit that you’re pretty serious. It’s not a bad thing, but I’m just saying you don’t like, you know, relax about things. You’re a little uptight.”

He laughed, trying to make it a light-hearted comment. But judging from Kate’s expression, she didn’t take it that way. David noticed too.

“Come on, don’t be mad at me now or all I’ll think about on the way over to Portland tomorrow is that Sista Kate has put a hex on me. I meant that uptight thing as a compliment. Somebody has to be the adult here, right?”

“Yeah, sure, David,” she said.

When he offered her a sip of his dirty martini, she took his glass, and finished it off.

“See, I’m not so uptight, David Norton,” she said, her face twisting into a look of disgust. “Ugh, how do you drink these things? They’re sick.”

David just laughed as he poured himself another.

“I’ll have to get used to them if I’m going to be Detective Slocum. He’s a real man, and this is a real man’s drink right here.”

“Yeah,” Kate said. “A real drunk man.”

I laughed and shook my head.

We were quiet for a little while, watching the show. I was in the chair leaning sideways, my feet up on the arm. Even though I wanted to pull the blanket over me, I thought the better of it with David in the house. His spinster comment was still fresh in my mind.

A nice fire was crackling in the fireplace. Drops of rain were splattering across the window. I tried to focus on the show, but I ended up staring outside into the dark rainy night a while, my thoughts turning to Ty.

And how he was getting back, just about now.

Coming off the airplane. Home again, in Bend.

“So, do you feel ready?” Kate asked, yawning and stretching.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” David said, letting out a rare nervous sigh. “I just worry that I’ll freeze up or something. You know, draw a complete blank while I’m up there.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” I said. “I’ve got a good feeling about it. I’m excited for you, David. I really, really am.”

“Yeah, yeah, but tell me what you see for my future, Psychic Abby Craig. Do I get the part?”

He rubbed his hands together and looked at me expectantly.

“I wish I could say,” I said. “I mean, I could tell you about the ghost that keeps bothering me, but I’m afraid that’s about it in terms of that kind of thing. Unless you’re dead, I can’t seem to help.”

He sighed.

“Oh well. I wish you’d just see the future instead. That way it would be of some use.”

His words lingered for a moment.

The future.

Suddenly, I was struck by a thought.

Something I hadn’t realized before.

David, drunk on the sofa.

Helping me understand.

Helping me realize exactly what was going on.

 

 

CHAPTER 21

 

I was trying to finalize my menu for Christmas dinner. I had a biscotti recipe in mind for dessert but I wanted to practice making it one more time to cut down on the possibility of a last-minute meltdown. We had made it in cooking class. The chef had told us how Italians like to dip their biscotti in wine, when it was served as a dessert.

I figured I better try the wine as well. I poured a small glass and got down to business.

I took out all the ingredients and put them on the counter in front of me. Flour, salt, sugar, butter. I began mixing everything together. If this batch turned out, I was going to give them to Jesse’s dad. I had already bought a remastered copy of an early ZZ Top album for him and planned to drop them off at his garage after work tomorrow. Now all there was to do was to make the cookies and place them in the snowman tin I had bought.

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