Page 63 of Wildfire
"That's not for me to say, but she was hurt in a fire. She's at the local hospital if you want to see her."
"I don't think she'd want to see me. I was kind of a dick when I ended it, and now I'm engaged to someone else. Is she going to be alright?"
"I think so. She's on the mend. When did you get engaged?"
"A couple of months ago. She found out about it and went ape shit." He shifts again. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"
"That's it. Thank you."
"Alright." He gets up and starts to walk away, and then it hits me to ask another question.
"Wait! One more thing."
He turns and looks at me, hands balled up deep in his pockets. "Yeah?"
"Do the old miner's shacks in the forest above Owl Creek mean anything to you?"
He looks at his feet and blushes. "Georgia and I snuck into a couple of them, and uh…I hope this isn't illegal, but…we had sex in them. Her idea, man."
"And the abandoned house on Smith Lane?"
He blushes some more. "Same deal."
"Any campsites around town play host to your uh… activities?"
He chuckles. "Yeah. She was into doing it in some funny places."
"Okay. Thanks. I appreciate it."
I pay my bill and hurry out to my truck. I want to meet up with the Sheriff before he leaves for the day. I drive to the city's edge, where the police department is, but I am too late. I leave him the same message on his office and cell phone. "I was right about the card. Jensen told me other interesting things and agreed to go on record."
Driving back to Owl Creek, I am awash with mixed feelings. I think I just solved the mystery of who was lighting the fires, but if I did, Georgia would be in a lot of trouble. I know pyromania is something people can get some treatment for, but there's not likely anyone who knows how to deal with it out here in the sticks. So even if I make the town safer, I alter her life forever. That's a hard pill to swallow when you know and like someone.
It also means Renée is impacted—the band might ask her to stay on as lead singer. Because this is an investigation, I can't talk about it with anyone—not even the one person in the world I want to share this with.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Renée
This weekend was a blast. We did the radio spot and sold-out shows at our last two gigs, but I'm exhausted down to my bones. To top it all off, Jordy just found out his girlfriend is pregnant, so he won't stop talking about going home. I can't blame him, but it's making my homesickness worse.
Homesickness implies missing a place called home.
We have one more week of shows before returning to Owl Creek, and I can't wait. I'd give my left boob to sit on the back patio with Cole, drinking whiskey and watching the dragonflies dance over the lake. Even though I was only there for a few weeks, that place feels more like home than Downsville with my family ever did— at least since my mom died.
In my little bit of downtime, I've been learning to play my Mom's songs, and I've been writing my own, too. Seeing more of the world and experiencing my dream firsthand has given me some perspective and material to write about. I've aged since we started this tour. I feel like a different person.
Being on stage and performing is epic, but I've also dealt with gross behavior. You learn a lot about people when they want something from you. They put on an act to try to get you to feel a certain way about them, and when they don't get their way, they show you who they really are, and it's…shitty. People can be shitty.
But people can be kind, too, and that's what I'm holding onto. Like the trucker who pulled over to help us with the flattire. Or the bar manager who offered to give us the spare room at his house so we could skip the motel that night. Or the women who come up to me after the show and tell me that I'm inspiring them to live their dreams.
It's all showing up in the music I'm writing—the ugly, the sad, the inspiring. No matter what happens when we return to Owl Creek and the band goes into the studio to record, I'll take my experiences with me forever.
After taking a phone call outside, Trevor comes into the motel room and says he wants to have a band meeting. I get him to agree to do it over coffee because I just woke up and can't deal with whatever he wants to talk about before I'm caffeinated. That's the other thing. I've become a coffee drinker since the tour started. I need high-octane stuff to deal with this schedule. I wonder how the big-name stars deal with the road?
We trudge to a diner with bottomless coffee. I order that and a full stack of pancakes. As soon as the coffee is poured, Trevor starts in.
"I have some bad news that I need to share because it impacts all of us. I wish I could wait until we were back in Owl Creek, but I think it's important because we need to make some decisions."
My heart is in my throat, and the coffee isn't helping push it back down.
