Dreamer (The Seeker Series Book 2) (7 page)

I tried my best to look innocently down at the table, but couldn’t keep from laughing and was relieved when he joined in. “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to be manipulative. Sorry for my pathetic seduction attempts.”

“Your seduction attempts are anything but pathetic. But seriously, is graduating early really your decision?”

“Yes. Please stop worrying about it. I am absolutely sure about this. I am beyond ready to be done with high school. If you were to dump me tomorrow, I would still stick with my plan,” I assured him.

He smiled. “Fine. I’ll stop worrying. I’m really glad we are going to be graduating at the same time. And I have no plans to dump you tomorrow or any other day.”

***

Sunday morning, as we divided up the chores for the weekly top-to-bottom housecleaning torture my grandmother had devised years earlier, my mom dropped a small bomb of her own.

“Oh, by the way,” she said with studied casualness, “I’m having a friend over for dinner this evening. I would appreciate if you were both here and on your best behavior.” She didn’t even look up from her chore list.

Grams and I met each other’s surprised gaze, which quickly morphed into evil grins. “So, we finally get to meet your boyfriend, Mom? It’s about time,” I said.

“Yes, Jen. I was beginning to think you had invented him,” Grams said breezily.

“Or maybe,” my mother said as she ripped off the list of chores and handed them to each of us, “I wanted to make sure I was serious about him before inflicting you two on the poor man. Don’t embarrass me tonight.” She pinned each of us with a sharp look that probably scared the crap out of the little kids at the school where she was the principal.

Grams and I howled with laughter as Mom gathered her list and left the room.

“Well, Grams, as tempting as it is to devise ways to have fun at her expense tonight, I really think we should be on our best behavior. She’s never brought a guy home before and we don’t want to scare him away.” I looked at her sternly. “So, no wigs, tea parties, or anything else weird. I need you to be normal, or whatever passes for normal around here, all right?”

“Fine. Spoilsport,” she muttered.

“Grams, did she really say she was serious about this guy? I don’t know what I think about this. Have you seen him yet?”

“Nope. She’s been keeping him on the DL for sure.” Only my grandmother could pull off such a comment. “I’m going to go pump her for some more info so I can cyber-stalk him before he gets here.”

***

When the doorbell rang promptly at 6 p.m., Grams and I were in place, both looking normal, but armed with the 411, as Grams put it, on one Brian Keller, 20-year decorated veteran homicide detective with the Albuquerque Police Department. I think she was actually disappointed not to find anything juicy about him.

Mom led him into the living room to meet us and I had to hand it to her: he was pretty cute for an older guy. He looked to be somewhere near 40, but I have to admit I’m not good with ages of people older than about 25. They all kind of look generic middle-aged. He was a lot taller than my mom and had light brown hair with a hint of gray around the temples. He had bright blue eyes that crinkled at the edges when he smiled, like maybe he knew how to laugh. For his sake I hoped so, since his day job was dealing with murderers. He shook hands with both Grams and I, looking us in the eye and not seeming awkward or stand-offish. So far, so good. He seemed nice and I got decent vibes from him, so I relaxed and decided to see how the rest of the evening went. Mom had prepared a great dinner of her signature pasta Puttanesca, making a special dish of it for me without the anchovies, capers, or olives, all of which are disgusting and which pretty much left tomatoes and garlic, but Brian seemed to be enjoying it.

“This is delicious, Jennifer. What’s it called?” he asked. It was strange to hear someone call my mom ‘Jennifer.’ Everyone else called her Jen.

“It’s called Puttanesca,” Grams jumped in, “which means ‘streetwalker.’” She watched him carefully for a reaction. “One story goes that the ladies of the evening would put it on their window sills to entice clients in with the smell.”

“My favorite story is the one where the ‘ladies’ would fix it after a busy night at work to replenish their energy. Carb-loading, you know?” I added.

Brian smiled and said, “Well, it would definitely entice me. I don’t think I’ll even attempt to address your story, Ally.”

Grams and I both laughed. Mom rolled her eyes. “What did I say about not embarrassing me? Honestly, you two!”

“So, Ally, your mom says you’re a cheerleader. That’s great. I played football in high school.” Brian was definitely trying to change the subject for my mother’s benefit.

“Did you go to high school here in Albuquerque?”

“No, I grew up in southern California, in Anaheim, actually.”

“Wow. Did you go to Disneyland all the time?” I asked.

He chuckled a bit. “Not all the time, but probably a lot more than your average person. Have you been?”

“Once. Grams took us when I was 8. It was magical,” I sighed. “But I think I would be able to appreciate it better now. I think we should definitely go this summer to celebrate my graduation. Hint, hint.”

“I thought your mom said you were a junior?”

“I am, but I’m graduating a year early.”

“Oh, so you’re a smart kid, huh?” he asked, smiling, but in a nice way.

“More of smart ass, actually,” Grams interjected. “So, you’re a homicide detective, Brian? It sounds fascinating, yet morbid. How do you stand dealing with death every day?”

“Well, I don’t really think of it like that. I think of it as bringing justice and closure to families.”

“So, what kinds of cases have you worked? Anything we might have heard of?” Grams continued her interrogation. Brian might want to consider recruiting her.

“Well, I can’t really talk about any active investigations, but I worked the case of the couple who were found in the trunk of the burned-out car a couple years ago. The guy got sentenced last month.”

“Ugh, what a horrible case,” my mom sighed. “Those poor people.”

Brian reached over and took her hand in a sweet way. I was liking this guy; he seemed to treat my mom well. “And I recently picked up the Ashley Hayes case, which I’m sure you’ve heard about since it’s been all over the news lately.”

“That’s the body they found a few weeks ago up by Sandia Man Cave, isn’t it?” Grams asked.

“Yeah. It was a missing persons case, a thirty year-old cold case, until a hiker and his dog stumbled across her remains. I was assigned to it yesterday. It should be very interesting.”

Where had I heard that name before? It sounded very familiar to me, but I couldn’t think where I had heard it. It felt like a bell or something went off in my head, like I was supposed to remember something, but it was just out of reach. Well, this was going to bug me until I figured it out.

“So, Brian, tell us about yourself. How old are you? Have you ever been married? Do you have any children?” Grams continued. I could see my mother seething, but she was powerless to stop her mother from grilling the new boyfriend. It was actually enjoyable to watch when it wasn’t a guy I had brought home. I had to admire my grandmother’s chutzpah.

Brian seemed to have been forewarned, because he cast my mom an amused look before launching into his answers. “Well, ma’am, I’m 42. I was married once, briefly, when I was barely out of college, and I don’t have any children.”

“Oh, so you’re divorced?”

“No, ma’am. I’m a widower. My wife died of a brain tumor,” he said quietly. This time Mom reached over to take his hand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Brian,” Grams apologized. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

I choked a bit on a bite of bread. The day my grandmother didn’t mean to pry would be a cold day in hell.

We rounded out the dinner with a beautiful tiramisu, which my mom certainly didn’t make except on the most special of occasions. She was going all out to impress this guy, which I guess I understood after meeting him. He seemed pretty great. As we were getting started on dessert, the doorbell rang again.

“That’s Jack,” I said. “We’re going to get started on our online classes tonight.” I got up to let him in.

“Well, bring him in for dessert. There’s plenty,” Mom assured me.

I introduced him to Brian and they hit it off right away, discussing the latest NBA scores. I think Brian was relieved to have a momentary escape from all the estrogen.

After we finished dessert, I sent Jack into the living room to get set up for homework while I cleared the table. I walked into the kitchen, hands full of plates, and was shocked to see Brian and my mom kissing passionately. It gave me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Uh, sorry,” I apologized awkwardly as I set the dirty dishes down and beat a hasty retreat. They broke apart guiltily, and I heard my mom giggle. Giggle! I don’t think 36 year old women should giggle. I walked into the living room in a daze, flopping on the couch beside Jack.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, noticing I was sitting there, not picking up my laptop. “Ally, querida? You okay?”

“No,” I breathed. “I just walked in on my mom and Brian sucking face in the kitchen.”

“Way to go, Brian,” he responded, chuckling.

I punched him lightly on the arm. “No, not ‘way to go.’ It was deeply disturbing. Children should not have to see their mothers French kissing. I may need therapy.”

“Therapy, huh? Sounds serious.” He put his computer down and took my face in his hands. “I think I can help. I’m sure I can think of something to drive those awful memories away.” He leaned in and placed his lips softly on mine. I would never get tired of the feel of his mouth against mine, the taste of him on my tongue. The funny feeling was back, but for entirely different reasons.

“Well, thank goodness you were here to save me,” I whispered against his lips. He smiled and pushed me back against the cushions, deepening the kiss.

“Ahem,” my mother interrupted, Brian at her side. “Uh,
sorry,”
she mocked me. “Brian and I are going out for a bit. Grams already left. So you two are on your own. I trust it won’t be a problem, will it, Jack?” Her meaning was abundantly clear and embarrassing all at the same time.

“No ma’am. Not at all. You can trust me.” He couldn’t help but look ashamed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at her.

They left and I sat up, my face in my hands. “I’m so sorry, Jack. That was embarrassing.”

He laughed, taking my hands away from my face. “Not really. I will never be embarrassed about kissing you, sweetheart.” He kissed me again. “And she was absolutely right to remind me to behave. Knowing we’re alone in your house might be enough to make me forget all my good intentions.”

“Ooh, that sounds intriguing and promising,” I said as I kissed him back, this time pushing him back against the cushions.

He kissed me back for a moment before sitting up and gently pushing me away. “Homework time,” he stated firmly.

“Fine.” I huffed. It was sweet he felt this way, but it was frustrating, too. Although, if I was totally honest with myself, I was relieved my boyfriend wasn’t pressuring me. If he ever called my bluff, I would almost certainly chicken out. I wasn’t nearly as worldly as I pretended.

We spent almost two hours working on our online classes, economics and government, which were boring in the extreme, but at least we were spending time together. I guess that’s how you know you really love someone: when even something boring is enjoyable because you’re doing it with the right person.

Later, I walked Jack out to his car when he was ready to go home. As I was kissing him goodnight, I was swept into a vision.

A man leaned against Jack’s car, his ’65 Mustang. I was walking toward him and he stood up straight as I approached. As I got closer, I could see he looked familiar; he actually reminded me a lot of Jack, but about 20 years older.

I gasped and Jack said, “What, Ally? What did you see?” By this time he was used to my freaky visions.

“I think I saw a vision of you, in the future.” I tried to catch my breath as I steadied myself.

“Hey, take it easy. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was nothing upsetting. I saw you, only older, leaning against your car. That’s it; you didn’t do anything except stand up as I approached. I guess you keep it for a long time, huh? I wonder why I would see something like that? Weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, weird.” He looked tense for some reason. “I gotta go, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He kissed me quickly and left rather abruptly. Was it something I said?

***

The next afternoon, Jack and I were walking out to the student parking lot together, making plans to get together after he got off work to do more online homework. I wasn’t paying much attention to our surroundings and was surprised when Jack stopped suddenly about 50 feet from where our cars were parked side-by-side. I heard him curse under his breath.

“What is it?” I stopped beside him and looked around, quickly locating what he had seen. A man was leaning against his Mustang, standing up straight as he saw us approach. I looked up at Jack in shock. “But…it’s my vision.” I could see his jaw tense, anger beginning to ooze out of him, yet he didn’t look nearly as shocked as I would expect. “Is that your father?” I asked quietly. He nodded. “You knew. Last night, when I had the vision, you knew, didn’t you?”