“Urgh,” I mumbled. I hadn’t even cracked an eye yet. When Beth called, I slapped at my phone until it actually answered the call. I’d been trying to reject it but whatever. I was awake now. I coughed a few times as I tried to get my voice to work properly before I managed to say, "I’ll be there in about a half hour.”
What I wanted, no, needed, to do was sit and soak in a bathtub with one of those fizzy bombs that makes the water all pretty and smells devine, then shave and lotion and wash away my cares of the last three and a half weeks.
What I actually did was run a brush through my hair, spray some dry shampoo in it, wipe myself down in the sink real quick, and wash my face, before putting on some deodorant and perfume. Finally, I left the house ten minutes later looking like a somewhat normal human and smelling like… well, hopefully like nothing, or the perfume at worst. I didn't think my friends would judge me, especially based on my last twenty-four hours, but other people might, and I had no idea what the day had in store for me yet.
A different officer sat in my driveway. This one was younger, and more...shiny. Like he was a brand new penny. I walked up to his window and bent over. “I’m going to Deva's Delights. If you need to follow me feel free, I’ll have some of Deva’s famous pancakes sent out for you. Or you can stay here and keep an eye on Henry. But be warned, he’s like me.Nota morning person.”
His dark eyes sparkled with excitement as he gave me a broad grin. “Deva’s it is.” I knew Deva's food was legendary for so many reasons, but seeing other people react to it like that made me so happy for my friend, not to mention proud. This was her dream, her work, her blood, sweat, and tears going into making her place a reality. Though not into the food. She was meticulously clean.
He backed out into the street and let me pull my car onto the road in front of him, then followed me to Deva's place. The whole time my sluggish mind was begging me for a cup of coffee while also starting to mull over the events of last night. And not just the murder, but spending time with Daniel and have it be so...nice. And that wasn't damning it with faint praise either. I couldn't remember the last time I'd spent time with a man like him and thought it was nice. I was always counting the seconds until I could excuse myself or feign a headache or something. Last night I hadn't wanted to.
I'd been able to snag a parking spot right out front and as soon as I walked in, I spotted Beth and Carol at a table near the front window, they weren't quite visible from outside, but they had a view of the whole place. The hostess greeted me and I asked, “Can you send a to-go box of Deva’s pancakes, fully loaded, and a big cup of tea and another big cup of coffee, out to the officer out front?” I gestured to the patrol car across the street as the hostess pulled out a small notebook and wrote the order down. When she was finished I added, “Just add it to my bill, please.” I hoped that he liked tea or coffee because that's all he was getting to choose from.
She smiled widely at me. “Of course. Right away.”
“Hey ladies,” I called as I wove through the other tables to my friends.
They stood. Beth gave me a hug when I was close enough. “Hey,” Carol said. “Let’s go find Deva and you can fill us in, that way you don't have to tell the story over and over again.”
All of the wait staff and cooks knew us so no one stopped us from heading to the back, but when we walked into the kitchen, it was to find Deva smiling broadly up at Marquis. I stopped short and Beth and Carol thumped into my back. “What is it?” Carol asked, peering over my shoulder. “Oh,” she said with a sigh that almost sounded wistful. “How nice.”
The three of us backpedaled and returned to the table they’d claimed. “So, tell us the details,” Beth said. “We’ll fill Deva in later. I’m sure she’d rather be with Marquis.”
“I’m so happy for her,” I said as my friends grabbed bags they had stashed under the table. As I told them what had happened on my not-date with Daniel last night, they pulled out old high school yearbooks. Thankfully they just had three each, I assumed one on each side of the four years we were in school, though where they got them I had no idea. Still I was glad they came prepared.
“Let’s see if we can find this Al,” Carol said as she flipped open the first yearbook, the hard, fancy cover making a knocking sound as it hit the table. The glossy black and white pages flipped before us as Carol scanned through the book. We were all focusing on one book so if any of us missed him hopefully the others would catch him. It made it take longer but it felt more thorough.
It took a few minutes of searching, but finally Beth's finger landed next to a photo, as she tapped at the book and exclaimed, “Here he is! And, it’s so weird. He was in our class.”
I scooted closer to peer down at the guy from the right angle. “How is that possible? I don't remember his face at all.”
“Me either,” Carol said. “Not even a wiggle of a memory.” And we had a small high school. Maybe seventy in our graduating class. No way there was a member of it at least one of us didn’t remember. It made me doubt my memories, since it was more likely they were wrong than the yearbook.
“Maybe Deva will remember him,” I said.
But Deva didn’t remember. She walked out looking blissfully happy and carrying a tray full of plates. We hadn’t even ordered, but that didn’t surprise me. It wasn't just Deva's food that was magical, it was the way she always seemed to know what we'd want, what would help us most in that moment. The tray was laden with fruit salad, eggs, muffins, and other little yummy bites that I didn't have a name for.
“How was that?” I asked with a broad grin.
Deva set the plates down and handed the empty tray off to one of the staff before she sat down herself and joined us. “Um, I told him I couldn’t go to brunch with him because my morning prep guy called out. Marquis showed up and did prep with me. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and you know what? He made it faster and a lot easier.”
“I bet the time passed quickly,” Beth said slyly as she dug into her omelette. The undertone to her comment was definitely not missed. By anyone. Which was most evident by the slight blush that stained Deva's cheeks.
We ate and discussed Al, who Deva didn’t remember either. The whole thing was giving me the creeps.
“Okay,” Deva said. “What we need to do is split up and go talk to someone from all the cliques in our graduating class. Obviously Daniel knew Al. We need to ask everyone else. Joel, he ran around with the gearheads and owns the mechanic’s shop now. I know him, so I can go ask him.”
“I know Cindy, she was on the volleyball team and head cheerleader,” Beth said. “She comes in the shop a lot.”
“So that us, we were kind of on the fringes,” I said. “Joel covers the kids from the auto body shop. The jocks will be covered by Cindy.” We kept naming names until each of us had two or three people to see. The goths, the smokers. The brains. The band nerds. Pretty much every clique we could come up with, and then we combed the yearbooks for more.
We had a good list to go on now. Time to investigate. I couldn't say I was excited about the prospect of an impromptu class reunion, even if it was on an individual basis. There was just something about catching up with people from high school, people who knew you when you had the most potential, that made me feel icky. When I thought about it, I felt like I'd failed a little bit.
I'd moved out of town, left Mystic Hollow, which was what most of the high school students wanted to do at some point or another and now I was back because my marriage had fallen apart. It wouldn't matter that my ex was a cheating jerk or that I was happier in Mystic Hollow they'd see me, one of the few people that had actually left and had come back, and I knew that they'd be wondering what the heck happened. How did I screw up my perfect life?
The problem is that life was only perfect when it was being observed by strangers. Anyone who actually knew me would be able to see how unhappy I was, and they should be able to see how much happier I was being back home. I just wasn't excited about the prospect of having to recap my life to multiple people and seeing the pity and judgement in their eyes. Maybe I'd be wrong though? Maybe more people would understand it than I thought. That was my hope anyway.
All I had to do was navigate that and figure out who knew Al. I couldn't say my life wasn't interesting, sometimes I wished it wasn't full of so many questions though. The primary one currently being who the heck even was Al?
