Goddess of Summer Love: a Cursed Luck novella Page 7

  Kennedy walks over, catching the end of that as she brings the necklace to wrap for the customers. “Diversion, then? Set off the alarms, and then rob other shops that are still open?”

  “That’s a theory,” she says. “Seems elaborate, though. We’ll know more when we get a full accounting of what’s missing.”

  Kennedy and I exchange a look.

  “What about tonight’s Lisa Lake tour?” I ask. “We bought a block of tickets, but I’m presuming it’s been cancelled.”

  “There will be extra security, but we wouldn’t do that to Ms. Dowling. She put a lot of work into this tour. She’s sold out Saturday and Sunday, and has asked to do another one Monday. The council is considering it, though some people aren’t happy about that.”

  “Because of the thefts?”

  “No, they just don’t like dredging up that history. Mitch Keeling came to see me this morning, with a few other concerned citizens. I told them to speak to the mayor, but I can’t imagine anything coming of it. We gave her the permit, and no one’s eager to withdraw it halfway through the weekend. Especially when there’s a film crew coming out tomorrow night to tape her tour.” She slaps the counter. “I should move on. Checking in with all the businesses.”

  “We appreciate that,” Kennedy says, and the chief heads for the door as four more people come in.

  * * *

  This morning over breakfast, when telling the others what we discovered last night, Jonathan had offered to compile what he could on the Lake case from the town archives. After the police chief leaves, I head to the library to see what he has. At breakfast, he’d been discussing it with Ani, so I’d presumed they do it together, but instead I find him alone in the library, which is closed except for special events.

  “Where’s Ani?” I ask as he lets me in.

  “Volunteering, volunteering and more volunteering.” He takes a stack of books to the counter.

  “I thought I heard you two saying something about spending the morning together?”

  “At the dunking booth,” he says. “That’s where she is. But it was slow enough that I decided to come back to the library and gather what you guys are looking for.”

  In other words, my attempt to bring them together actually meant that they lost precious weekend time together. Wonderful.

  “Oh, but it’s such a lovely warm day,” I say. “You really should be out at the dunk tank.”

  “And I will be. I got your text as I was leaving, so I stuck around to give you the bad news in person.”

  “Bad news?”

  He heads for the door, waving for me to follow. “The archives are Lisa-free.”

  “What?”

  “Someone checked out all the records. Which is odd, because we don’t normally allow those to leave the library. I also can’t find a record of the check out, so my guess is that another librarian let someone take them, probably Ms. Dowling.”

  “Isn’t that a bit odd?”

  He laughs as he reaches for the door. “It’s Unstable. I can say that we usually don’t let someone borrow our archival material. I can also say that they’re supposed to check out whatever is taken. But if I’m not the one on the desk, the rules are more like guidelines. We have one librarian with Alzheimer’s and while she never works alone, whoever’s with her could have been busy at the time. Or it was the other librarian, who decided to bend the rules for a professional interested in local history. I’ll track down the archives, but it won’t be this weekend.”

  “You wear a lot of hats in this town, don’t you?” I say as we head out. “Head librarian. Town councilor. Volunteer worker.”

  He shrugs. “I like to get involved.”

  “You and Ani both work very hard, for your careers and your community. It must not leave much time for personal lives.” I rap his arm as we pause behind the library back doors. “Young people need to be careful of that. Work-life balance. When’s the last time you’ve been on a date?”

  He glances away and rocks on his heels. “It’s been a while.” He comes back with, “But that’s not me being busy. Just . . .” He wrinkles his nose. “Still bouncing back from a bad experience. It’s an old story. Meet a girl, think she might be the one, and then she’s not.”

  “It’s a good thing you realized that in time.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t the one who realized it. Totally out of left field for me.” He locks the door. “But, yeah, in retrospect, it was probably for the best. We weren’t a match.”

  “Uh-huh.” I take out my sunglasses and put them on as we step into the gardens. “And what about Ani? Is she seeing anyone?”

  He pauses, and his eyes narrow. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

  “No, what?”

  “Please tell me you are not trying to match make.”

  “Why not? You and Ani are obviously very—”

  “Very good friends. Lifelong best friends. Naturally, we should end up together. As we have been hearing since we were, oh, roughly five years old.”

  “And it’s not what you want?”

  “Who knows what we want?” he says, with genuine frustration in his voice. “No one will back off enough for us to figure it out.” He sighs. “They mean well. But it’s as if the whole town has bought tickets to our wedding, and we’re ruining everything by not actually getting married. My parents, Ani’s sisters, the entire town—they’re all part of a giant conspiracy to get us together.”

  “And you just want them all to back off. Give you breathing room.”

  “Yes.” He exhales. “That was more than I meant to say. Just please don’t add to the fray.” He clasps his hands together, raising them, mock pleading. “Please, please, please. Let us be friends. If there’s more there, let us find it on our own.”

  * * *

  “Everything okay?” Marius asks. I’m in the Bennett’s living room after dinner, everyone else out in the backyard.

  “I made a mistake,” I say. I glance over his shoulder and lower my voice. “With Ani and Jonathan. I should leave them alone. They don’t need anyone else interfering.”

  He shrugs as he lowers himself onto the sofa with me. “Didn’t seem like you were doing much interfering. Just little nudges that weren’t really working out. They’ve both been very busy this weekend.”

  “They’re always very busy. I just hate to see . . .” I exhale. “I can joke about mortal lifetimes, but I hate to see opportunities slipping away. I want to grab people and shake them and tell them how quickly it will be over. How much they can miss by doing the wrong things and throwing away their lives but also by doing too much of the right thing.”

  I exhale. “I’m not making sense.”

  He entwines his fingers with mine. “You are to me. You’re worried that Ani and Jonathan are so caught up in their careers and their community and helping others that they’re missing out on each other. Except they’re not.” He waves toward the back. “They’re out there right now, staking out a corner of the yard and talking like they’ve been separated for weeks.”

  “Which means—” I cut myself off. “Which only means they truly enjoy each other’s company, not that they need more. Not yet at least.”

  “They’re moving at their pace,” he says. “They aren’t even thirty yet. They have plenty of time if that’s what they want.” He leans back, hand still in mine. “I’m more worried about Aiden. At least Ani and Jonathan have balance. Work, family, community, friends. Aiden?”

  He shakes his head. “Work, work, and also work. Family, too, but not in a good way. With Kennedy, I think he sees the possibility of more. That’s a start. I’d just like to figure out what the devil is up with Rian.”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  He grimaces. “Tried to, but he’s not sure what to make of me. He cracks a few ‘god of war’ jokes and escapes as fast as he can.” He pauses. “He reminds me of Denny. He comes off as the wild child, the black sheep, proud of his place in the flock but . . .” He shrugs. “There’s damage there
, just like with Aiden. Just like with Denny.”

  “Kennedy said something like that earlier. I just wish Rian wouldn’t make things so difficult for Aiden. He—”

  The patio door whirs open.

  “Vanessa!” Hope calls. “Marius! Tour time!”

  She runs in waving her phone. “Thirty minutes to go. You’re both still in, right?”

  I smile as we stand. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

  Chapter Ten

  As Marius said earlier, the tour allegedly follows the one Lisa took that fateful night. It doesn’t, actually, not according to what Mrs. Ricci told us, but I doubt the exact details are in the archives, and it hardly matters what route the tour took or what stops it hit. The important part comes at the theater.

  Ms. Dowling—a mousy young woman about Kennedy’s age—does an admirable job of explaining the problems the Lake family had with Unstable and the difficulties they caused. She gives us a more thorough picture of the family than I encountered in my online research.

  Apparently, while the Lakes passed themselves off as average Christians, they’d been church-hopping for years, each new congregation lacking the requisite fire-and-brimstone. They’d ended up in a very fundamentalist church and, once the girls hit puberty, switched to home schooling, in the belief that the public school system would destroy any hope of a virgin marriage.

  The girls led a very cloistered existence, and for them, coming to Unstable was like going to Disney World. Later in life, the younger sister confessed in an interview that she was the one who brought the festival to their parents’ attention . . . and pretended to have heard it was a Christian gathering, intentionally manipulating the word “spiritualism.” Had she blamed herself then, later in life, for the weekend that led to her sister’s disappearance? I hope not. She was a normal teenage girl, desperate for a bit of fun.

  It was the younger sister, as I’d learned, who also got them onto the tour. Yet another bit of teenage sleight of hand. Emphasizing the historical elements to her parents and glossing over any of the ghostly bits.

  As much as I appreciate Ms. Dowling’s research, she does too much, mingling the original tour with the story of Lisa Lake. Whenever she valiantly attempts to recreate the original tour her audience’s attention wanes. While a few people will appreciate that, most are just here for Lisa Lake.

  That goes double for our group. When Ms. Dowling launches into a bit of local lore, Kennedy shoulders Aiden to the back, where they whisper together, earning stern looks from Ani. I move between the sisters to divert Ani’s attention and let Kennedy and Aiden have their moment.

  I’m leaning toward Jonathan, about to ask whether Ms. Dowling’s version of this local lore is true, when Hope lets out a yelp. The entire tour group turns to see Rian behind Hope, his hands over her eyes.

  Ms. Dowling clears her throat.

  “Sorry!” Rian calls. “She’s really jumpy.” He tickles her, and she swats at him, earning an even more severe look from Ms. Dowling and a warning glance from Ani.

  Rian straightens. “Sorry. Again. I’ll keep her in line.” He walks beside Hope and stage-whispers. “Quiet, trouble-maker.”

  “This is a private tour,” Ms. Dowling says.

  “I know.” He reaches for his wallet. “How much?”

  “It’s sold out.”

  “He has a ticket,” Hope says, taking out her phone. “I bought seven in case he could make it.” She holds up her phone. “See? Seven adults.”

  Ms. Dowling doesn’t let it go that easily, making Hope point out everyone in our group to confirm there really are only seven. Then we’re on the move again, Rian with his arm casually slung over Hope’s shoulders, Hope chattering away as we walk.

  I glance at Marius. He mouths “Do you want me to do something about it?” I consider and decide no. Not now. Everyone had been looking forward to this tour, and I won’t spoil it. I won’t let Rian spoil it either. If he causes trouble, I’ll take care of it myself. After the initial disruption, though, he settles in, listening to the guide and behaving himself as we slowly make our way toward the theater.

  * * *

  We’re finally at the theater complex. We aren’t allowed inside yet. Chief Salazar had mentioned extra security. What she meant is that we’d have a police escort through the theater portions of the tour.

  We’re now waiting outside for that escort. I’m with Marius, Jonathan, Ani, Kennedy and Aiden, discussing theories about Lisa Lake.

  “Does anyone have one?” I ask.

  “If you’re looking for a wild theory, I’m your girl,” Kennedy says. “Real ones, though?” She shrugs and looks at Aiden. “We’re working on it.”

  To cover my delight, I turn to Marius. “And you, former spymaster. You must have a theory. You just aren’t sharing it.”

  “Oh, I have one. It’s written in a sealed envelope that I gave to Jonathan.”

  “Seriously?” I say.

  “Seriously,” Jonathan says. “I have the envelope in a secure place.”

  “In other words,” Kennedy says. “You don’t want to spoil our fun by telling us what happened to Lisa, but you do want to be able to prove you had the answer all along.”

  “Yep, and if I’m wrong, Jonathan is under strict orders to forget where he hid that envelope.”

  As everyone laughs and teases, I realize two members of our party are missing. I glance around to see Hope and Rian disappear together behind a row of shrubs.

  I murmur something about using the ladies’ room and slip away. I stride in the proper direction, and then sneak back around to follow Hope and Rian. Their voices waft from a shadowy corner, tucked between two flowering shrubs. I can’t see them, but I have a very good idea what they’re up to, and I’m about to “accidentally” stumble on them when Hope says,

  “You need to tell Aiden.”

  Rian sighs. “And here I thought you wanted to make out.”

  Silence.

  “I was kidding, Hope.”

  “No, you were diverting and distracting, and I’d like you to stop it. I’d like you to treat me like a friend, not some girl you’re trying to impress.”

  He exhales. “I don’t mean it that way. I’m just . . .”

  “Diverting and distracting. You need to tell Aiden the real reason you blew off that meeting. Tell him you don’t agree with the new project. That you have ethical issues with using government loopholes and bribes to kick people off their land.”

  “Aiden won’t care.”

  “Then why not tell him? Because you think he will care. You’re afraid that if you tell him the problem, and he gives your parents shit, they’ll listen to him where they ignored you, and that hurts.”

  He snorts. “I stopped caring what my parents thought years ago.”

  “No, you didn’t. You should, but you can’t. You need to get away from them.”

  “Sure, go into business for myself again. Look how well that worked out. Nothing more humiliating then being taken hostage because the Connolly they really wanted was Aiden. Everyone wants Aiden.”

  “Everyone except me.”

  A few murmurs, as if they’re embracing. Then Rian gives a long, drawn-out sigh. “You can say that now, Hope, but trust me, by next Memorial Day, you’ll be wondering what the hell you ever saw in me. You deserve better than an uptown party boy who can’t get his shit together.”

  “And maybe you deserve better than a small-town girl who can’t get her shit together.”

  “Your parents died. You have a reason for derailing, and you’re already back on track, heading to college in the fall.”

  “Maybe. I can get accepted. If I can figure out what I even want to do with my life. All I know right now is that I want to be with you. You want to get your shit together. I want to get my shit together. I propose we make it a joint project. Everything’s better with friends.”

  He chuckles. “Everything?”

  “Everything. Especially this . . .”

  The distinct sou
nd of a kiss. I pause only a heartbeat, and then I back away and leave them alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  The security detail has finally joined us. As we start forward, Marius puts his arm around my waist and leans down to my ear.

  “Hope and Rian?” he whispers.

  I sigh.

  “Not quite what you figured, hmm?” he murmurs. “Fancy that.”

  “If the words ‘I told you so’ leave your lips . . .”

  “Do they ever?” he says, and I acknowledge that with a nod and briefly lean my head against his shoulder. When we stop outside the smaller theater, his arm falls from my waist. I lean against him as we listen to Ms. Dowling tell the tale of the poor younger Lake sister’s gastrointestinal distress. That gets a few jokes from the crowd. “Please don’t tell me it was the corndogs,” etcetera as people clutch their stomachs. Then we head into the main theater.

  The first room is a small lounge, with benches and restrooms and a portable bar. For pre-show and intermission sipping and mingling. The original tour had then headed backstage for a bit of theater history and the story of the milkmaid ghost.

  “You never did get a chance to finish that story,” Aiden whispers to Kennedy.

  “I’m sure this version will be better.”

  It is not better. In the hands of Ms. Dowling, the story becomes a very generic missing girl story. The milkmaid realizes she forgot something and slips out into the barn at night, never to be seen again.

  “Tell me there’s more to it than that,” Rian whispers.

  “Not really,” Kennedy says. “I just add more flavor.”

  “So should she.” Rian pantomimes a yawn, and Hope tells him to behave.

  “If you want to tell a story yourself,” Hope says. “I think you have one for Aiden.”

  Rian grimaces as Aiden tenses, clearly expecting the worst. Then Rian meets Hope’s eyes and nods. He leans over to Aiden and whispers, “Can we talk later? I didn’t screw up anything else. Promise.”