I Wish You Missed Me Page 10

  ‘Friday night,’ Kit said. She held up the phone to John Paul and he moved closer. ‘He had the phone then. He was OK.’

  Wearing a heavy gray vest Kit had not seen before and an open-collar, navy-blue shirt, Farley looked as intense as he always did when he was playing music. Yet he had lied to her about where he was going. He had lied to everyone.

  Something behind Farley caught her eye. A dark-haired woman with a stunned expression stared into the camera. Megan. A short man beside her, his face blurred, held onto Megan’s arm.

  ‘You know them?’ John Paul asked.

  ‘Her,’ Kit said. ‘She works at the stand where we found the phone.’

  ‘You think she hid it there?’

  Kit nodded. ‘I know she did. She was trying to cover it up the night that Virgie and I stopped at the stand.’

  ‘And when was that?’ His voice turned official.

  ‘This isn’t a police investigation,’ she reminded him.

  ‘It was a simple question, Kit. Don’t get defensive.’

  He was right, yet she couldn’t give into him entirely or he’d do what he always did and leave her out.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘We saw her the night we arrived.’

  Just then the door to their room opened and Virgie stepped out, blinking under the overhead light. ‘Kit? You out here?’

  Then she saw the truck and rushed to Kit’s open window.

  ‘Thought I heard your voice,’ she said.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Kit asked.

  ‘The van,’ Virgie said. ‘It followed me again tonight. I couldn’t dodge it this time. Whoever is driving it probably knows where we are.’

  John Paul jerked around. ‘What van? Not the same one from Sacramento?’

  ‘I don’t know since I never saw that one.’ Virgie pointed toward the road. ‘This one followed me all the way up here.’

  Kit opened the door and climbed down from the truck. ‘We’d better leave here tonight,’ she said.

  ‘It’s too late to leave,’ John Paul said. ‘I won’t be far away. And tomorrow we need to talk more about that photo.’

  Kit leaned back into the window. ‘We will,’ she said.

  Once they were back in the room, Virgie was full of questions. ‘Was he bristly or what? And what photo does he want to talk about?’

  ‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’ Kit sank down into a hard kitchen chair. ‘First, though, tell me about the van.’

  Virgie pulled up another chair across from hers. ‘I think it was the same one we saw on the road. It has kind of a flat front, not like your basic one. It followed me right up to the driveway, Kit.’

  ‘Then let’s go to bed early tonight,’ she said. ‘Because tomorrow we’re going back to Megan’s stand.’

  ‘You think it’s her van?’

  ‘Probably not. Whoever was driving that followed us before we met her. I just want to find out what Megan knows about what happened to Farley.’ She opened the door to the cabin. ‘Come on. I want to show you what’s on his phone.’

  NINETEEN

  This place feels wrong to Megan. She’s still nervous about the photo Mickey took with the guitar player and she doesn’t like the way Will is trying to take over. It’s as if he is attempting to prove something to her, or maybe to himself. As she glances down at the mark on the back of her hand, Megan feels like a piece of beef being stamped prime. That world of cattle and grading was once as familiar as this bar is now. She has forgotten most of it, except that pretty girls don’t finish first for long, not unless they have something else going for them.

  As the man in the booth stands up to greet her, Megan is glad she sent Will back to the bar. There’s a sweetness about this guy who rises to greet a woman, even a woman like her.

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ He puts out his hand and, in his grasp, Megan feels the leathery warmth of many summers. ‘My name’s Charles but they call me Chuck.’

  ‘Megan.’ She lets go of him and settles onto the hard wood of the booth. ‘My friend is getting drinks for us.’

  ‘I already did.’ He motions to the frosty glass in front of her. ‘Wasn’t sure what you’d like so I ordered a margarita. Everyone likes them, right?’

  ‘Right.’ She can’t help smiling at him and at the ridiculous first-date glass of ice and alcohol. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you.’

  He sits down across from her and she looks at him – really looks – for the first time.

  His black hair lightens to a rusty color in front where it falls over his forehead. The effect of the sun. Even here, winery workers run the same risks as field hands like her dad did back home.

  ‘So where would you like to go?’

  He says it awkwardly, and Megan hates herself for knowing that she must wait for Will.

  ‘Let’s just sit here a minute.’ She picks at the salt crystals on the rim of the glass, picks it up and swallows enough of it that an icy headache explodes between her eyes. ‘Let’s just sit, all right?’

  ‘That’s fine.’ His body is muscular and his eyes too dark, too careful in his appraisal of her to reveal much. But she likes what she sees. This won’t be so bad.

  ‘So tell me about yourself, Chuck.’

  ‘Not much to tell.’ He starts to reach for his draft beer and then presses the fingers of both hands onto the table. ‘Actually, I guess I could say I’ve never … I mean, this is the first time I’ve done anything like this.’

  ‘I understand.’ She leans back in the booth and repeats the words Will has taught her. ‘It’s not really any different than meeting someone online.’

  ‘I tried that.’ A smile spreads across his face. ‘Believe me, after that, this makes way more sense. And you’re right. It’s not really any different. When do you have to get back?’

  Heat spreads across her cheeks and she takes a sip of water. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘I’m just asking because I have to pick up my daughter tomorrow in town. I hope that’s all right.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Apparently Will hasn’t discussed the time allotment with him, leaving the dirty work up to her again. But this one won’t be a problem. He’s not what she expected, not like the others Will has lined her up with. Only three, Will always says, but Megan has hated every one until now.

  At least the last one is the nicest. Although alcohol is one of her least favorite things, she picks up the glass and takes a large swallow.

  ‘Hey.’ Will appears at their booth with a tray of glasses and slides in next to Chuck as he always does when they meet a man. ‘Rudy said you like microbrew, Chuck.’ He passes out beers all around.

  ‘I wasn’t sure what the lady would like.’

  Will seems to grimace. ‘The lady is fine with beer.’ He glances at their glasses. ‘I see you already have drinks but the place is packed and it’s better to have too much than too little. Right?’

  Chuck nods and smiles at Megan across the table. The guitar music drifts in and he clears his throat, reaches for his beer and takes a swallow. ‘Would you like to dance?’

  Will glares at her, but leans back in the booth as if anything is all right with him.

  ‘I’d like that,’ Megan says.

  TWENTY

  Kit set her phone alarm for five-thirty and woke up thirty minutes early. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew something was wrong. No snores or rustling came from the other sofa bed. It was empty, the thin blanket neatly folded back, like the bedspreads on the cots at the shelter.

  She got up and looked out the window. A soft sunrise blended pastel colors into the morning. Virgie’s vest hung over one of the deck chairs. Kit rushed outside.

  Virgie sat on the steps to the room, her sleeves rolled up.

  ‘Beautiful morning,’ she said. ‘Coffee’s on the stove. I had to boil it. There’s no pot.’

  ‘Where have you been?’ Kit gulped the fresh air, realizing she was both relieved and angry.

  ‘Nowhere.’

&n
bsp; ‘You didn’t go back by Jonas’s.’

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t.’ Virgie stood so they were eye to eye. ‘I don’t break my word.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Kit looked down at the crushed pine cone at her feet and then back at Virgie, who nodded slowly. ‘After everything that’s happened, I jumped to conclusions.’

  ‘No need to explain.’ Virgie settled on top of a weathered log. ‘Just like you have a problem driving a car on a freeway full of people, I have a problem sleeping very long in one place, even my own.’

  ‘I understand.’ Kit looked around at the clear sky and the iridescent rain puddles that only magnified the fragrance of the air. Even this early, the weather felt like spring, as if the storm had never taken place. From a nearby cabin the smoky scent of bacon floated out and Virgie rubbed her stomach, as if unaware of what she was doing.

  ‘Megan’s not coming to the stand this early,’ she said. ‘Let’s walk down to that café we passed coming in and get some real breakfast.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Kit said. ‘I’ll keep you company, though.’

  ‘You might change your mind once we get there.’ The path was steep and Virgie went ahead of her as they shuffled down it.

  That was where the bacon smell was coming from. ‘At least no van can follow us there.’

  The café was set off from the hill a short gravel path from the road. ‘Doesn’t that smell good?’ Virgie said. ‘We deserve some decent food, right?’

  ‘Sure.’

  She stopped on the path and glared at Kit. ‘He got to you again, didn’t he?’

  ‘Kind of.’ She didn’t bother pretending to misunderstand. ‘He’ll back us, though. Whatever we find.’

  ‘Except?’

  ‘Except we’re a good team. I just wish he’d treat me as an equal.’

  ‘Good luck on that one.’

  ‘I know. Let’s have some breakfast and get to the stand about the time they open up. The sign says seven o’clock.’

  The sooner they got to the fruit stand the sooner she would know the truth.

  As they stepped inside the café, Virgie said, ‘You know John Paul will try to talk to Megan too.’

  ‘Another reason for us to get there early. We have a photo that says she was in that pub with Farley. Let’s see how she can explain that.’

  The minute Kit sat at the table and picked up the plastic-covered menu with its snapshots of food, she realized that she was hungry after all.

  ‘Look at the combination plate for two,’ she said. ‘Do you think we can eat all that?’

  ‘That’s more like it.’ Virgie grinned.

  ‘What?’ Kit asked.

  ‘Nothing.’ She put down her menu and folded her hands over it. ‘The stand won’t open for another hour. We have plenty of time.’

  As their car whipped around the narrow roads, Kit’s anxiety was tempered by the smell of pine and the possibility of finally confronting the woman who might lead them to Farley. When they met that night, Megan had seemed distant – frightened, even – but not evil. If she really had hidden Farley’s phone – and Kit was certain that she had – it might be because Megan didn’t want any harm to come to him. Kit hoped that Megan was still protecting his phone because Farley was still alive.

  With enough caffeine, bacon, eggs, grits and biscuits to fuel their day, Kit and Virgie parked in the woods just outside the fruit stand.

  Shortly after eight, a battered pickup with peeling paint drove in and Megan got out. Instead of her usual maxi skirt she wore jeans and an off-white, long-sleeved T-shirt. Frantically she ran to the stand, pulled out a stepstool and yanked down the box she had tried to hide earlier. Although Kit and John Paul had replaced it in their rush to get out of there, they hadn’t taped the bottom. When Megan reached for it, glass jars crashed around her and she screamed.

  ‘Now,’ Kit said.

  ‘No, let’s give her a minute.’ Virgie scowled. ‘See what she does next.’

  Kit nodded.

  Megan reached under another pile of boxes and took out a phone. ‘I need you,’ she shouted into it. ‘Someone’s been here. Stuff’s missing. No, not jam. Please get here as soon as you can. I’m scared.’

  ‘Now,’ Kit said.

  They got out of the car and approached Megan.

  ‘You!’ Megan shouted at Kit. ‘You did this.’

  ‘Where’s Farley?’

  ‘I told you before, I can’t help you.’

  ‘You lied before.’ She pointed at the fading stamp on Megan’s hand and then the one on her own. ‘I know you were at the pub that night.’

  ‘You can’t prove anything.’

  ‘Actually, I can,’ Kit said. ‘That stamp pretty much tells it all. Besides, Farley took a selfie on his phone when you walked into the place on Friday.’

  Megan seemed to freeze. ‘If you have a photograph of me, I’d like to see it.’

  ‘Don’t even think about trying to destroy it,’ Kit told her. ‘I emailed it to myself and my friend Virgie here has it on her phone too.’

  ‘I have to see it. You could be lying.’

  ‘No, you’re the one who’s lying,’ Kit said. ‘But you’re welcome to look at it.’

  Virgie pulled the phone out of her vest and opened the photo. Megan sucked in her breath as if someone had stuck her.

  ‘Now,’ Kit said. ‘Where’s Farley?’

  She straightened her shoulders. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was at the pub, OK? Somehow I got in that photo, but I don’t know your friend and I didn’t stick around for the music that night.’

  ‘Who’s the guy with you?’ Kit asked.

  ‘I have no idea. Never saw him before.’

  ‘He has his arm around you.’

  ‘People do that to each other in crowded places.’ Megan leaned down and began placing chunks of broken glass into a paper bag. ‘I don’t know him, and if you don’t mind I need to get to work now before the tourists arrive.’

  ‘You called someone a minute ago,’ Kit said. ‘You asked them to get out here as soon as possible.’

  ‘Then you know someone is coming to help me and you’d better get out of here while you can.’

  Kit glanced at Virgie, who nodded. ‘We’re not leaving until you tell us about Farley.’

  ‘No, we’re not,’ Virgie said. ‘Lady, you hid that phone for some reason. You don’t want Farley hurt, do you? We can help you make sure he’s all right.’

  ‘You don’t understand.’ Her lips trembled. ‘If he finds you here I don’t know what will happen. You need to get out.’

  ‘But you called him to get rid of us,’ Kit said.

  ‘I called him because I was afraid of what you took. Now I’m more afraid for you. Please leave.’

  She was trying to protect them as she had tried to protect Farley by hiding his phone.

  ‘Just one question,’ Kit said. ‘Is Farley alive?’

  Their eyes met. The sound of a motorcycle became louder. ‘Go, now.’ Megan stumbled back through the broken glass. ‘He’s going to be furious about the phone.’

  ‘Tell me!’ Kit shouted.

  Megan’s words were lost in the noise.

  ‘Is he alive?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tears sprang to Kit’s eyes. ‘Where?’

  ‘Not here. Far away. But he’s all right. Now, you’ve got to go.’

  ‘We’ll talk later,’ Kit said, and she and Virgie ran for the car.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Kit could still hear the roar of the motorcycle in her ears.

  Virgie didn’t speak until they were on the highway again.

  ‘What is it?’ Kit asked.

  ‘More people packing out here than in my old neighborhood. You think she’s telling the truth about Farley or just trying to keep us from being shot?’

  ‘I believe her.’ Kit glanced out the window and realized that something about these uncertain hills and dependable fresh air felt somehow stable, even healing. ‘I think she
knows where he is.’

  They went around the curve leading to the turnoff and Virgie tapped Kit’s hand.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘The van.’

  Kit turned slowly in the seat. It was the same van, the same flat front, the same dark color. ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘I’ll lose it.’

  ‘No,’ Kit said. ‘Let’s make it follow us until we can see who’s behind the wheel.’

  ‘We’ll have to do some mountain climbing.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  Again, they turned off the road.

  The van followed.

  She glanced down into the pointed tops of trees like dark green brushes against the sky.

  ‘Go higher,’ Kit said.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Absolutely. We need to go all the way up, the way we did before.’ She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but at least the person driving the van didn’t know how the road would narrow. ‘Our old turnout’s up ahead,’ Virgie said as the road narrowed and the drops grew steeper. ‘You OK if I pull over there?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  Virgie braked to the right, into the lane overlooking the tallest pine trees. Kit watched as the van slowed and then passed.

  The driver glared at Kit’s car, face frozen into a mask of shock that contrasted with the blonde hair that flowed in waves around her shoulders.

  ‘It’s a woman,’ Virgie whispered.

  ‘Monique.’ Kit tried to find her voice. ‘And it’s the same van I saw before.’

  ‘Monique? From the station?’

  Kit nodded, her stomach in knots. ‘I’m sure of it. Follow her.’

  ‘We don’t know what’s up there.’

  ‘But we know she is.’

  ‘OK then, if you’re sure, but once we get there it might be a rough trip down.’

  No cars were coming and Virgie started up the hill again. ‘Why would Monique be following you?’

  ‘She’s trying to find Farley.’