I suppress the urge to ask him why he wants to shut this down.
“Uh-uh, nope. Detective Mike? He’s the balding dude with the big mole on his cheek? That guy we talked to after Sara drowned.”
Oh. Now I remember… the original detective was a bulldog of a guy. He was newer to town; unlike his wife he didn’t know anyone involved. “I’ll bite… what weird shit did he ask you about?” I take the cup offered to me by Dave.
“One fucking night.” Cal shakes his head. “Just one night where the past isn’t discussed is all I’m asking for.” It’s all he’ll ever say. As his friend, I want to back off. As someone that wants the right person held accountable, I can’t.
The cover band is doing a montage of Beach Boys songs, a miss when it comes to their clientele. Most of us are under thirty. Now, if Grady or his band graced us with their presence it would be an actual party. But he’s hiding out in his cabin to avoid being spotted. The local news station outed him for remaining in the area after The Splash.
Carter continues, “He asked me about the replica telescope that the Funpark used to have near the bumper boat pond, then he was talking about Mia’s missing necklace, and he asked me about Lakeside Park, too. Can’t remember what that was all about.”
Huh. Paying more attention to the conversation, I ask him, “What do you mean he asked about the telescope my parents took down? Why?”
Cal squints at me, taking a drink of his beer. Dave snorts and says, “I still have a scar on my leg where I hit that thing when we were chasing each other around at night. That stupid Goddamn thing.”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking clutz.” Carter slaps the back of Dave’s head. He turns back towards me. “No clue. I thinkhe should look into Wilder’s ‘visions’.” Carter uses his fingers to make quotes when he says visions.
As Carter and Dave bicker back and forth over the quality of the beer, I watch Cal. He’s avoiding my eye contact. I kick at the leg of his stool. “She’ll call.”
Only I’m not sure that this is all about our girlfriend. The more the past is discussed, the more he pulls away from me. Mitch isn’t the only person lately that I've realized has changed. Cal isn’t the easy-going or agreeable best friend I remember.
Looking past me at the handful of older customers who are dancing on the grassy area near the stage, he makes a crack, “This is like watching toddlers at a Wiggles concert, except it’s drunk rich boomers.”
“Cal?” I’m not a fan of his deflection. “It’s going to be okay. She’s just having a rough time with her uncle. She’s going to call.”
He takes another swallow of his drink. Hanging his head, he sighs and says, “I hope you’re right, because I’m not even sure what to do with myself. I don’t know what I did wrong.”
He trusted Wilder. If I’m guessing right, I think he’s trying to turn her against us.
Chapter Three
Remington James
Well, this is a lot to take in at eight in the morning. Rubbing my eyes, I look over the mess before me, spread all over the living room area of the cabin. Droolius sits panting on the couch, with the insides of the throw pillows along with the shredded fabric strewn all over the place, only one intact inside his mouth. “What did you do? Oh my God.” Groaning, I start to pick up the tufts of cotton.
Laughter comes from the screen door at the front of the cabin. “I’m not sure, but it looks like your dog caught whoever was responsible in the act and saved one of the pillows. Honestly, he’s a hero.” Wilder leans against the doorframe, holding out a cup of coffee.
It’s impossible to stay irritated with my furball, all it takes is one doggy smile with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth and I fold in spectacular fashion. “I guess if he can’t escape from the cabin, he’ll just destroy the contents.” I plunkdown on the couch next to him where he’s excitedly wagging his tail at the sight of Wilder. Which I would do too, if I had one.
“Hmmm… well as Droolius’ attorney at paw, I claim that the pillows attacked first. Totally self-defense. He should be completely exonerated of these horrific claims,” Wilder states sitting on the other side of him, hugging him to his side.
No one in this world should look that good in just a pair of well-worn gray sweatpants. When he passed me, the smell of his cologne caused all my systems to go haywire. Now, I just want to find a place to drag him for me to maul his body. Horny much? Get a damn grip, Remi. He doesn’t pay visits often, there must be a reason other than saying hi or being adorable. “To what do I owe this morning cup of coffee?”
“Truitt called me to check on you. He’s worried you’re avoiding him. Are you?” Nuzzling into Droolius’ side, he sets his coffee cup on the low-lying coffee table.
My mind won’t let go of Katie’s words. I want to forget about it. Scrub it from my brain, but instead it’s consuming all my time. I keep telling myself that I just need a little breathing room, and I’ll sort it out. What though? How does someone sort a mystery of this magnitude out? “What did you tell him?” Wilder still has no idea what I found or how I’ve backed away from Cal and Charlie.
“There, there, it’ll be alright?” he quips before rolling his eyes and adding, “I agreed to talk to you. And… I may or may not have made fun of him. He used to be the most unbothered human, back when I knew him, but it appears that you’ve gotten to him. Nice work.”
Keep it short… keep it innocuous. “Things are fine. I’m… grand.”
He smirks at me. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Uncle Skip clomps his way into the room. “Now what? Every day there’s a dilemma. What happened here?” He’s aghastlooking at the mess I had abandoned in favor of staring at Wilder. Droolius cocks his head looking at Skip who, might I add, looks like he slept in the winds of a hurricane.
“What’s up with this…” I point at his patchy facial hair, wayward clothing, and dark circles. “You look vaguely homeless.” Our issues just keep piling up between us, with no resolution. We seem to have a pact to carry on without any real talk. Healing. Maybe ignoring it all is the best we can do, because I won’t apologize for being hurt. I won’t apologize for expecting him to care about me as his niece.
He nods Wilder’s way. “You were right about the computer glitch.” Rubbing a hand through the hair already sticking up on the side of his head, he continues, “Thank you for the tip. I’m not the least bit technologically inclined. Hopefully, we’ll catch the vandalism culprit now.”