Page 33 of Hidden Moon (Nightcreature 7)
"I never knew that. "
"My dad was good at camouflaging things. Why do you think he was constantly planting flowering bushes in the center of the yard?"
"I thought it was a Cherokee thing. "
"It was. " Her eyes met mine. "Partly. The Klan didn't much care for a Native American sheriff, or maybe it was the African-American part they objected to. Nor did they appreciate the lily-white daughter of the mayor and the not-so-white daughter of the head cop being best friends. "
I took another gulp of wine. How had I not known this? What else had been going on around here that I'd been oblivious to?
"And now?" I asked. People had to be more enlightened these days. They just had to be.
"Haven't had a good cross burning in quite a while. "
"Always a plus. "
"Things have been better. Which is why this" - she turned the swastika-marred wood over in her fingers - "is so bothersome. The Klan doesn't care much for Jewish people, either. "
"Do they like anyone?"
"White people. Protestants. Who only play with other white Protestants. "
"Booooring," I said. "Considering their outfits, I always figured they were short on imagination. "
"And style. "
"As well as brains. " I flicked one finger at the chip. "That looks like a talisman or an amulet, maybe a charm. I'll do some checking. "
Before I'd landed the producer's job, I'd spent some time as a researcher. I hadn't been half-bad at it.
"What kind of wood is that?" I asked.
"Seems like it came from the apple tree. If it hadn't been for the symbol, I'd have thought a chunk had just fallen off on its own. The tree must have been struck by lightning - there's a big black scorch mark on the trunk - but managed to survive. Sometimes nature is amazing. "
Grace shoved the wood into a pocket and picked up her glass again. "This is nice," she said.
"Yeah. I missed you. "
Her face, which had been open and relaxed, tightened. "You had a weird way of showing it. "
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Friends don't leave town without a good-bye. Best friends don't stop calling; they write more often than a card at Christmas. "
"I know. I'm sorry. This place, my dad, the people - " I took a deep breath, remembering how stifled I'd felt here. "I wanted to start a new life. "
"And I was part of the old one. " I nodded. "So what changed?"
"Me. "
The word fell between us, a bridge to a secret I didn't want to share.
"What happened in Atlanta, Claire? What made you run back here to hide?"
"I hardly think being the mayor is a good way to hide. "
"You know what I mean. "
I did. Only Grace would know that something had changed in me. Only Grace would have the guts to ask, and only with Grace would I feel compelled to tell her everything.
