Page 44 of Paranoid

“It’s okay,” Melinda had said with a knowing expression. “We’ve all had them.”

“I don’t have a ‘crush’or anything else on Nate Moretti,” she had said and turned away, hiding the fact that she was scared spitless, her short breaths actually fogging a small corner of the window as Melinda backed out of the drive.

“All right. Fine. No crush. Or whatever. Oh, shit!” She had hit the brakes. The Toyota had ground to a quick stop as a kid on a bike flew past behind them, inches from the bumper. “Damn it. That Farello boy’s going to get himself killed! Did you see that? He didn’t stop, didn’t see me. Holy God. And no helmet! What’s his mother thinking?” Letting out a frustrated breath, she’d slowly hit the gas again, backing out into the street.

Do it. Right now! Rachel had blurted, “Is it okay if I sleep over at Lila’s tonight?”

Her mom’s expression had tightened. She didn’t like Lila, though she’d never admitted it, only remarked on more than one occasion, “That girl had better watch herself or she’ll end up in big trouble.” Lila had always dated older boys, some lots older, and now she’d settled on Luke. That fact had really gotten under her mother’s skin. But at the moment, Melinda had seemed to think she was connecting some romantic dots. “Oh, I get it,” she’d said. “You’re planning to meet up with Luke and Nate.”

Rachel hadn’t said anything to change her mind, and at the cross street, her mother had warned, “Be careful, Rachel. Stay out of trouble. Okay?” Melinda had shot her daughter a worried glance.

“I will,” Rachel had promised.

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nbsp; But it had been a lie. A horrid lie.

“Hey, you okay?” Lila said now, snapping Rachel back to the present, to the meeting and the strains of a familiar song. Wilson Phillips was singing “Hold On,” a popular song from grade school, the harmonized strains drifting from hidden speakers. Of course Lila would be playing the songs that brought back all those wretched school day memories.

“Rachel. I asked if you were okay?” Lila repeated.

Her heart pounded in her ears. No. I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay. I have horrible nightmares, I lost my job, my kids worry me to death, our classmate was murdered, and it’s the damned anniversary of the day I shot and killed my brother “Fine,” she forced out with a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

“Really?” Lila rolled her expressive eyes. “Give me a break. Because none of us are ‘fine’ tonight. I don’t know if we ever will be again.” Frowning she added, “Annessa couldn’t even pull herself together to make it. She claimed she was too upset. And that she’s having a problem with her kid.”

On that issue, Rachel could relate.

“I don’t know why Annessa couldn’t get it together for a couple of hours,” Lila said. “Geez! Talk about a prima donna. And come on, it’s hard on all of us. We’ve all got teenagers with issues.”

Annessa Bell had belonged to the popular group in high school, one of the rich kids. She’d moved away for years but with the passing of her father had come back to Edgewater to claim her inheritance, or so the rumor mill had it, even though, according to Lila, her husband was “rich enough that she could afford to loan money to God.”

Lila let out a disgusted breath. “I just don’t get it. Annessa doesn’t have a corner on being upset. We’re all shocked and a little freaked out. You’d think she might want to come and talk it out with people who knew Vi.”

“Everyone handles grief differently,” Rachel said.

“Yeah. Maybe you should give Annessa a break,” Nate said, coming to their missing classmate’s defense. “She probably has her own issues to deal with. She’s married to a guy twice her age.”

“And that’s a problem?” Lila threw back. “So am I, and Chuck and I, we’re happy. Make that very happy.”

Nate shrugged one shoulder. “Just saying, you never know.”

“Well, if you ask me, she’s weird about the reunion. Annessa should be embracing the community, but she spends all her time working. Can you believe that? With her money? Ever since her husband’s corporation bought property around town, she spends all her time visiting the sites. I’ve seen her car at the cannery, St. Augustine’s, and Reacher’s farm. Did you know he bought that, too?” Lila’s lips pinched together in disapproval.

Rachel offered, “It probably has more to do with trying to get a vision for the new construction.”

“Whatever. The point is she should be here tonight. She’s in charge of the money, you know . . . keeping track of who’s paid and who still owes and . . . well, she sent a spreadsheet, so I guess that’ll have to be good enough.” Obviously irritated, Lila reached in her pocket again, but this time didn’t come up with a cigarette.

Watching her, Rachel recalled that Annessa and Lila hadn’t liked each other much in high school, but that was long ago. Lately, though, Lila had been pissed that Annessa and her husband hadn’t used Lila as a real estate agent when they had purchased various properties in the area, including the old cannery and St. Augustine’s hospital with its now-closed private school.

Lila gave up her rant. “Nothing I can do about it.” She touched Rachel on the shoulder. “All this talk of Vi. It’s depressing and just . . . just awful.” Lila gave a little shudder, her bracelets rattling. “I need a glass of wine. You?” she asked Rachel.

“Not now.” She shook her head.

“What about a double shot of whiskey?” Nate suggested.

“Oh. You want?” Lila asked, brightening a little. “I’ve got . . . scotch, I think. Chuck always keeps a bottle of Glenlivet—”

“No.” Nate held up his hands. “I was joking. I’m good. Really.”