Whispers (18 page)

“
Maybe she thought she failed you, Gracie. Maybe that’s why she sent you away.”

Gracie looked into his face, grateful for that bit of insight. “I’ll never understand, I guess. Not everything. But why she chose to do what she did—it wasn’t because she didn’t love me.”

Reilly gave her a gentle smile.

“
She was a stubborn old bird,” Digger said meanly. “And she’ll be joining them, sure enough.”

“
Joining who?” Gracie asked.

“
The Dead Lights. I seen it already. She ain’t going away.”

Gracie exchanged a look with Reilly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“
Sure you do. You seen ‘em.” He looked at Reilly. “I know you have. They’re all out there, wandering them springs. Oh, folks pretend it ain’t so, but don’t see none of them out that way at night, do you? Just me. Just old Digger. Been a Digger Young watching the Dead Lights for over a hundred years.”

“
The Dead Lights are just an illusion, Digger,” Reilly said. “A weird fluke of the old springs and the night air.”

“
Yeah, you believe that. But when they come thumping at the Diablo, you’ll mark my words. And they will. She knew ‘em. Drove her crazy in the end.”

Gracie had heard enough. “Did she want to be buried here, Digger?”

Digger laughed. “No. She didn’t trust a coffin to hold her down. She wants to be cremated and spread out at the springs.”

Chapter Sixteen

GRACIE sat quietly beside Reilly as he navigated the flooded roads, Digger Young’s words playing over in her mind.
She knew ‘em. Drove her crazy in the end. . . .
Was it true? Was that how her grandmother had come to be out at the springs in the middle of a storm? And why would she want her ashes spread out there? It made no sense at all.

Gracie rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms. At last the rain had defeated the ovenlike heat, reducing it to warm instead of bake. But it wasn’t the cool air that made a shiver creep over her. It was the memory of Digger’s voice, deep and insinuating.
“When they come thumping at the Diablo, you’ll mark my words.”

“
I hate this place,” Gracie said, staring out the window at the gray and turbulent world. To her, Diablo Springs would always be covered in gloom—whether with storms of the past or of the present, it didn’t matter.

“
I don’t blame you. I hate it too,” Reilly said. “This town is just one big, bad thing waiting to happen.”

Amen, Gracie thought.

Reilly glanced away from the road for a moment. His eyes were dark and serious. “What do you think about what he said? About your grandma?”

This morning she would have been angered by any question from him. But her resentment had waned. He’d opened a dam and let so much out that she felt almost light in the aftermath.

“
Do you remember much about her, Reilly?”

“
Some people thought she was crazy.”

“
She probably was. Having Analise... I can only imagine what it must have been like for her to lose my mom. You don’t want to outlive your children. I don’t know what she was like before it happened though. I just remember she was always secretive. She’d never talk about the past. To this day, I don’t have a clue who my grandfather— hell, who my dad was.”

“
There aren’t any men in your family at all.”

She’d thought it enough times, but hearing it spoken, hearing it spoken
here,
sent a chill down her spine. “She used to say we were cursed.”

Saying it made her blush. “I know it sounds stupid. But I used to believe it. After the rape, I was convinced. She was so frantic about getting me out of town that 1 thought if I stayed I’d be struck down where I stood.”

“
Like what happened to her?”

She looked at him.

“
I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t think before I speak. Talk about curses.”

“
But you’re right. And after I was gone, she never let me come back. She returned my letters—even pictures of the baby. I tried calling, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I was devastated.” She looked down at her clenched hands, blinking back a well of emotion that threatened to overflow. “Still am, I guess.”

Her last night in Diablo Springs had culminated in a trauma she’d never fully recovered from. Now, in retrospect, she could see that the events leading up to it had been building her entire life, but she couldn’t explain that. How would she begin to put into words the sense of hysteria that had somehow always been near the surface, like flowing water beneath thin ice? For as long as she could remember, her grandmother had been looking over her shoulder—not watching for the normal hazards of childhood and adolescence—searching for something only she understood. Gracie had been left in the dark, sensing the paranoia but never comprehending its source.

She looked away from her hands at Reilly’s profile. He held himself stiffly, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he drove the flooded roads.

“
Do you still feel cursed?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. Actually, I’ve been blessed in so many ways. I’ve got a terrific kid and a great job. A good life.”

And she found she meant it. Even with this latest life-altering news of a baby, she and Analise would weather it. Together. She could offer her child this much . . . which was more than she’d ever gotten from her own family.

“
What do you do?” Reilly asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“
I’m a graphic artist,” she said, with a hint of pride. “I work at the university—San Diego State.”

“
Sounds like you like it.”

She nodded. She loved her job. “How about you? When did you start writing?”

“
After the group broke up. I started with songs. It took me a while to commit to a book. Never been very good at the commitment thing.”

“
You never got married, settled down?”

“
Never even came close. I guess I haven’t stayed in one place long enough. And I guess I never thought settling down was that great a deal. Didn’t do much for my folks. How about you?”

“
I was close a couple of times, but it never worked out.”

The silence that followed had a hot edge to it. Gracie didn’t quite know how or why, but she recognized it for what it was.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Thank you for taking me today. You were right. I wouldn’t have wanted to be at Digger’s alone.”

He cocked a brow in her direction. “You mean you’re glad I’m here?”

“
Let’s not get carried away.”

He grinned and made a right on Main Street.

“
Stop looking so smug,” she said.

“
I’m not.”

“
Yes you are. I can feel it.”

He pulled to a stop at the one and only traffic signal in Diablo Springs and waited. Beside him, Gracie curled her fingers into her palms. The warm dampness outside seemed to heighten the scent of his cologne, his skin, his heat. The combination chased a new perspective into her mind. There’d been a time, before that night, when she would have given anything to be alone with him.

She glanced at him again to find him staring back at her. The rain battered the roof of the Jeep, coming down in a solid, pounding cascade. The fury of it isolated them inside, obliterating everything beyond the capsule of time. The light remained red, though they were the only car at the signal. Outside the gutters overflowed and pooled back into the street.

She could feel tension emanating from him, like a low hum only she could hear. Maybe it came from her, too. His hand slid over the back of the seat, coming to rest just inches from her face. She chewed on her lower lip, looking at him with a desire that caught her completely off guard. In less than twenty-four hours she’d gone from hating him to…to wishing he’d touch her. How had that happened?

“
What do you want, Reilly?” She’d asked a similar question this morning. But this time
her voice made the words different. The accusation was gone. A genuine need to know had taken its place.

“
I thought I came for Matt. But right now, I’m not so sure.”

Maybe she should have been bothered by that, but she understood what he meant.

“
What are you thinking?” he asked, something deep as the darkness of his eyes in the question.

“
I was thinking, people come into your life for a reason. I just don’t know what yours is yet.”

“
Let me give you a hint,” he said.

And he leaned across the seat and kissed her. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause a moment to give her the chance to pull back. And that was fine, because she didn’t want to. Still, her senses were shocked by the hard demand of his mouth, her emotions rocked by the mystery of him and the strange fulfillment just touching seemed to give her. She took a surprised gulp of air and felt as if she’d breathed in a part of him—an essence that fired through her bloodstream and made her arch forward into his embrace.

Her hands came up to his chest, her fingers curled into his shirt. And she kissed him back. Hungrily. He made a low sound in his throat that triggered a million reactions inside her body.

Overhead, thunder rumbled ominously and lightning snaked down with a fiery hiss. It struck the dangling traffic signal with a loud boom that pressed hard against her eardrums. Gracie let out a shout of surprise, pulling back just as the light exploded, shooting shards of smoking metal in every direction. Reilly grabbed Gracie and pushed her down as a chunk of metal hurled toward the windshield. It hit like a detonation and spidered the glass.

Stunned they looked up at the exposed wires that smoked and sizzled in the rain. A blackened hunk of the signal lay on the hood. To the right the pole that had held the light began to sway.

“
Oh, my God,” she said.

He hit the gas and the SUV jumped forward, parting the water on the street as they plowed through. The hunk of metal on his hood clattered and thumped its way across and off. Behind them, the pole listed to the right and then crashed to the street where they’d been stopped.

Chapter Seventeen

REILLY pulled into the crowded parking lot of the Buckboard Bar and Grill, but he didn’t cut the engine. He turned in his seat and watched her for a moment. What was he thinking, Gracie wondered? What was
she
thinking? The sound of the wipers swishing back and forth sounded unnaturally loud.

He leaned forward and kissed her again, the taste of him still new and exciting in ways she couldn’t describe or deny.

“
We’re not finished,” he said against her lips.

She wanted to say, thank God, but she kept it to herself. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

Together they raced to the front doors of the Buckboard. Even if they hadn’t already been soaked, there was no way to do it without getting wet. The water gushed through the gutters and sloshed over the walkway. She’d hoped it would cool her blood, but she felt like she was on fire.

They entered the Buckboard on a gust of wet air that swirled into the restaurant like a mist. The parking lot had been full, but inside it was downright crowded. The entire building was long and narrow, built when the population had been under five hundred. The bar was old and battered. It ran lengthwise for maximum occupancy, but even then, no more than ten or fifteen people could belly up at any given time. Behind it was a fake, but ornate, antique mirror that reflected the drinkers and eaters at the scattering of tables in the dining area. Old-time pictures covered the walls, showing gun-slingers and turn-of-the-century dignitaries—the few who had braved the heat to visit Diablo Springs during its heyday as a resort.

A couple high-topped tables took up the space between the bar and the eight or nine dinner tables. At the far end, a miniature stage and stamp-sized dance floor implied that some nights drew enough business for a two-step and a local band. Now they both were empty.

Smoke made a haze of the air, mixing with the yeasty smell of malt and spilled booze. The lighting was dim, the shades open to show the spectacle of the storm outside. Reilly rested his hand on the small of Gracie’s back, offering support and laying claim in one small gesture. Gracie scanned the faces around her looking for Analise. She spotted her, sitting in the corner with Brendan. A frown tightened Gracie’s mouth. Chloe LaMonte and the ever-present Bill sat with them. At another table she saw the young man who’d come with Reilly.

“
Come on in, folks,” a wild-eyed waitress in a jean skirt and tank top said as she balanced a tray of beer mugs.

She took a half step away and then turned, pointing at Reilly. “Oh, my God,” she exclaimed. “Reilly Alexander?” She rushed up, switching the tray to her left hand and giving him a hug with her right. “How are you?” Before he could answer she turned to Gracie. A second of silence passed between them and then she let out another screech. “Gracie Beck! I never thought I’d see you again.”

Her name popped into Gracie’s head at that moment. “Corrine Murray,” Gracie said. “Wow, look at you. You look great.”