Clarity (10 page)

“No, and he was supposed to meet me so we could come here together, but he stood me up. He’s my wingman. How is a shy guy like me supposed to meet a nice girl without my wingman?” Nate smiled, but I frowned. Not only did Perry stand up Mom, but now he’d stood up Nate. This was not my brother. Not the Perry I knew.

I didn’t want to let on that something deeper was wrong, so I plastered on a fake smile and offered Nate my arm. “I’ll be your wingwoman for a few minutes. Let’s walk.”

He laughed and circled his arm through mine. We approached the more family-oriented section of the party. A giant moon bounce seemed to be the most popular attraction, in addition to the carnival-style games where kids could spend twenty of their daddies’ dollars to win a stuffed animal worth a buck.

“Have you seen Billy Rawlinson or Frankie Creedon around tonight?” I asked Nate.

Nate scratched his head. “I may have seen Frankie. I’m not sure.”

I straightened. “Do you remember where?”

“No, sorry. Sounds important. What’s up?”

I wondered how much I was allowed to say. “Ah, nothing really.”

He grinned. “So that’s how it’s going to be.”

“What?” I asked innocently.

“You’re Miss Big-Time-Help-the-Police-Out and you can’t fraternize with your lowly reporter friend anymore.”

“Got me.” I winked.

“How is it working with Officer Yummy anyway?” he said sarcastically.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I waggled my eyebrows.

Nate suddenly turned from his usual lighthearted self to serious. “Be careful with him, Clare.”

I dropped his arm. “What do you mean?”

“There are things about him and his father —”

“Clare,” said a voice behind me. Not Nate’s, but just as familiar.

“I’ll get going,” Nate said, backing up. “If you see the dumbass, tell him I’m mad at him for standing me up.”

I turned around.

“The dumbass?” Justin asked.

“Yes, you’re not the only one in town. Who knew?”

He smiled. Every time I tried to hurt him, he just smiled. I’d have to try harder.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, looking me up and down. “You wore that dress on the picnic we took in the spring. Remember, it was the first warm day of the season …” His voice trailed off.

“I’d love to wax nostalgic, Justin, but I’ve got work to do.”
I tried to walk away, but he gently grabbed my arm. A love-struck couple frowned as they had to let go of each other’s hands to get around us.

“I’m sorry, Clare. I don’t know how many times you need me to say it. How many different ways I can try to prove it. But I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the past.”

“I know that, but I was hoping —”

“Hoping what, that we’d get back together? Go back to the way we were? That I could look at you and not think about you with Tiffany?”

A bell rang loudly as a man swung the mallet down on the test-of-strength game. His girlfriend clapped giddily. He handed her his prize, a white teddy bear, and was rewarded with a kiss.

Justin cast his eyes down. “No, I know that’s not possible. At this point, I was just hoping that you would stop hating me.”

I softened a bit. “You know I don’t hate you,” I whispered.

The wind blew a lock of hair over my eyes, and he tucked it behind my ear, his fingers lingering for a moment on my neck before dropping. Part of me wanted to forgive him. Part of me longed to go back to the way things were. I was never as happy as when I was with him. I looked up into his deep blue eyes.

“There you are!”

Justin and I stepped away from each other at the resounding boom of Gabriel’s voice, like two kids caught in the make-out room.

“What’s up?” I asked, pushing the moment with Justin out of my mind.

“I texted you. You didn’t write back. I was worried.”

Worried? About me? I pulled my phone out of my bag. “Sorry, I didn’t hear the tone.”

Gabriel looked at Justin. “Hey.”

Justin nodded. “Hey.”

“Any sign of Billy or Frankie?” I asked Gabriel.

“No.” He looked around. “I doubt they’d be hanging around here with the five-year-olds, either. What are you doing?”

Oh, just having an uncomfortably tense and emotional moment with my ex-boyfriend. Nothing much.
“Justin stopped me. I’m on my way over there.” I pointed to an area of the beach where guys were tossing a football back and forth. “Haven’t checked out that side yet.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said. “I’m going to check the public rest-room area.” But instead of walking off, he waited, eyes shifting from me to Justin and back.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Justin finally said, getting the hint.

The three of us set off in separate directions. I scanned the crowd around a small campfire, my eyes going from face to face through the flickering light of the flame. The guys who were playing football had stopped and were now pulling beers from a cooler. I inched closer to them. The sand was deeper over here, not hard and packed like at the carnival area. I slipped off my sandals and walked with them in my hand. The crowd of guys glanced up at me as I passed. I tried
my best to study all their faces without them thinking I was checking them out. No signs of Billy or Frankie. I pushed on, with the sounds of clinking bottles and masculine laughter behind me.

I stepped over a couple on a beach blanket who really needed to get a room. As I averted my eyes, I spotted Stephen Clayworth waving at me. He was flanked on either side by his parents, Cecile and Dallas, sitting as properly as one could in beach chairs. Stephen motioned for me to come over, but I played dumb and kept on walking. I didn’t have time for whatever he had to say.

“Clare!”

Man. I stopped and turned around. Undaunted by my ignoring him, Stephen trudged through the sand toward me, completely overdressed in khakis and a dress shirt.

“Wait up,” he said as he got closer.

“I’m sorry, Stephen, but I can’t stop to talk. I’m looking for someone.”

“I’ll help you look as we talk, then. How’s that?”

“You know Billy Rawlinson or Frankie Creedon?”

“Of course, but why would you —”

I interrupted, “That’s who I’m looking for, so if you want to talk you have to keep up and help me look.”

“Deal,” he said, jumping over someone’s blanket to keep up with me. “Listen, I wanted to apologize for my behavior at the boardwalk. I wasn’t myself. I’d been drinking a little.”

And I was hearing that excuse an awful lot lately. “Apology accepted.”

“It’s been a tough year.” Then he thunked himself in the forehead. “I bet I’m preaching to the choir.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, squinting at some shadows under the boardwalk.

“You’ve had a tough year, too. It’s terrible what Justin did to you.” He shook his head. “But getting dumped while giving you a gift like that, that’s got to sting.” He scoffed. “He sure deserved it, though.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Cheating on you.”

“No. ‘Dumped while giving you a gift like that.’ What does that mean?”

Stephen’s already sunburned face turned redder in the moonlight. “Oh, I guess he never got to that part. I assumed …”

I thought back to the night I’d found out about Justin’s betrayal. He’d said he had a surprise for me. But then I’d touched his jacket and everything else had happened so fast.

“What gift?” I asked.

He looked down at the sand and kicked it around a bit with his loafers.

“Stephen,” I said sternly, in my best imitation of his mother.

“My father’s campaign kind of had a guy. His job was to follow Harry Spellman around in the hopes that he’d screw up and we could get it on video.”

I gasped. “Seriously? That’s gross.”

“It’s politics, Clare. All’s fair and all that. Plus, it was my dad’s idea, not mine.” Stephen scratched the back of his neck.
“Anyway, our guy followed Harry and Justin into a jewelry store. Justin picked up a promise ring. One he’d had specially made. He had designed it himself.”

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. I wanted to sink down into the sand, but couldn’t get my knees to bend. That was just like Justin to design the ring himself. He’d probably had it in his pocket when he walked through the door and I’d pulled on his jacket. if I hadn’t done that … if I hadn’t found out about Tiffany … I would have jumped up and down at the sight of that ring. It would have been one of the happiest moments of my life. I’d be wearing the ring right now.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Stephen said, eyeing me worriedly.

“It’s okay,” I lied. “It’s in the past. I’m fine.”

He backed up a few steps, probably scared I was going to cry. “I’m going to head back to my parents before the fireworks start. I apologize again for my behavior last night.”

I nodded and waved him off, glad to be alone so I could try to catch my breath.

“What is this, social hour?” Gabriel stormed up to me. “Every time I come to find you, you’re gabbing with a different guy. How about doing some work? How about instead of flirting with every dude here, you try to find the guys we came for?”

My head snapped toward him and my eyes must have shot flames because he immediately took a step back.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“That depends. Are you done with your condescending reprimanding?” Before he could respond I advanced on him,
my finger pointing in his face. “For your information, I asked everyone I talked to if they’d seen Billy or Frankie. I figured the more eyes the better. I didn’t exactly stop to talk about the weather.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. Chill.”

I turned away, my anger dissolving as quickly as it swelled, replaced again with sadness.

Gabriel approached me slowly and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Something happened. What?”

“It’s personal,” I whispered, and shrugged off his hand, despite the little part of me that liked it there.

He waited for a few moments. “I don’t think either of those guys we’re looking for are here. Between the two of us, we’ve been up and down the length of the beach. I’m going to call it a night, start fresh at some of the local joints in the morning. They’re bound to turn up.”

I agreed, said good-bye, and watched Gabriel walk away. But even that pleasurable sight couldn’t cheer me up. All I could think about was Justin’s face as he’d walked through the door that night. He’d been so happy to see me, with a goofy smile and the surprise in his pocket. My ability had ruined it all.

For a moment, I wondered if it would have been better if I hadn’t found out about his betrayal. It was a drunken mistake. He regretted it. It wouldn’t happen again. If I was a normal girl, instead of a psychic freak, I wouldn’t have gotten the vision. I would have accepted his promise ring. We’d still be together. I’d be happy.

No,
I chided myself.

Justin was the one to blame here. He’d cheated. Even if I hadn’t found out the psychic way, Tiffany would surely have told me, to rub it in my face. Nothing would be different. I’d still be here, alone and angry.

I began to walk back home, sticking close to the shadows along the boardwalk in the hopes that I wouldn’t be stopped by anyone else who wanted to talk. I was all talked out, all thought out. I just wanted to go to bed.

And that’s when an arm snaked around my neck and dragged me backward and under the boardwalk.

ELEVEN

I CLAWED AT THE HAIRY ARM AROUND MY NECK and dug my heels into the sand, but he was stronger than me and was still able to pull me into the darkness. I wanted to kick him in his two little vulnerables, but couldn’t get my leg up that high backward and ended up flailing at the air. I stopped trying to pull his arm off my neck and simultaneously brought down both of my elbows into his gut. He grunted and let me go.

“Wait,” he said, before I had a chance to run. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

Despite the complete darkness surrounding us, I recognized that nasal voice. “Frankie?”

“That’s twice in one week I’ve taken your elbow in my stomach. Jeez, Clare, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Then why did you attack me?”

“I didn’t hurt you! I’m the one whose arm is bleeding from those fingernails of yours.”

I pulled him out from under the boardwalk so I could see him. His face was unshaven, his hair disheveled. His eyes darted back and forth.

“What’s going on?” I demanded. My breathing returned to normal, but my heart still raced.

Frankie scurried back under the boardwalk, just enough to keep hidden. “I heard you were looking for me. I need to talk to you, but didn’t want anyone to see me.”

“You idiot. You’re lucky I don’t have a Taser or Mace on me.”

“I said I’m sorry!” His voice trembled. “Why are you looking for me?”

“I’m looking for Billy.”

He paused. “So am I.”

“You don’t know where he is?”

“No. I can’t find him anywhere and I’m worried.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” I asked. I couldn’t believe I was standing here, talking with Frankie about Billy as if either of them were my friends. If Billy didn’t hold the key to the case, I wouldn’t have cared one ounce about where he was. And Frankie was talking to me like I was a fellow human being for once, instead of mercilessly mocking me. But only because he needed me. He thought I could help.

“Yesterday,” he said, rubbing the claw marks I’d left on his arm.

“One day without seeing him, that’s nothing to worry about.”

Frankie shook his head vigorously. “Something was going on. When I saw him in the morning, he was all smiles. Said he had something big up his sleeve. Something life-changing. But then I called him in the afternoon to see if
he’d tell me what this big thing was and he was completely different.”

“How so?”

“Scared. Billy doesn’t get scared. And now he’s gone. I think he ran.”

Damn. What did he see that frightened him enough to make him bolt? Did someone threaten him? I thought about Perry, also missing, and hated how these threads were coming together.

“Wouldn’t he have told you where he was going?” I asked. “You two are like brothers.”