Brenda Novak - When Summer Comes

“Better for whom?” she demanded.

“Better for you.”

“No, better for you.” She hung up, then sat staring at her phone. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten into an argument with Kyle. They could get a little irritated with each other, and at that point they usually parted company. But she’d never hung up on him before.

Was what she’d feared happening? Had sleeping together ruined their friendship? Doomed it to failure?

She hoped not. She’d only been trying to give him a shoulder to cry on, had never intended to end up in his bed.

She thought of their other friends—Gail, Cheyenne, Eve, Noah, Baxter, Ted, Sophia, Riley—and was embarrassed. A rift between two of them risked the enjoyment they all received from being part of the group.

“You coming in?”

Callie jerked her head up to see Levi standing in the doorway. Thanks to her conversation with Kyle, she’d stopped checking to see if he was ready for her. “Uh, yeah,” she said, and dropped her phone in her purse before climbing out.

Levi watched her closely. “Kyle said something you didn’t like?”

She refused to meet his eyes. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him.”

“He wants me gone,” he said simply.

“I don’t think he knows what he wants.”

Levi could’ve said more. No doubt he understood why their relationship was so complex. But he didn’t press her to answer any more questions. He merely held the door and she went in to pay.

* * *

After the auto parts store, which was located in the next town, they returned to Whiskey Creek and bought a shower rod from the hardware store. With the Old West–style boardwalk in front and the antique gold lettering on the window, the place resembled a mercantile out of the 1800s. Most of the other businesses on Sutter Street looked similar. They were definitely a blast from the past, including Callie’s photography studio, where they stopped next. When Levi had passed through Whiskey Creek, he hadn’t paid a lot of attention to it, except to eat and buy gas. Two days ago, this town was just another spot on the map. He’d never expected to see it again.

A young woman with long dark hair sat working on a computer. She glanced up when the bell over the door rang, then jumped to her feet.

“I didn’t realize you were coming in,” she said to Callie.

Callie shrugged. “I was in town, so I thought I’d come by, see how things are going.”

Her eyes drifted to Levi.

“This is a friend of mine,” Callie explained. “He’s visiting for a week or so. Levi, this is Tina, my assistant.”

Tina offered him a shy smile. “Hello.”

He acknowledged her greeting with a nod.

“I was just finishing up the Barrado album,” she said, returning her attention to Callie.

“How’s it turning out?”

“Great.”

“Farrah Johnson called. She was wondering when her pictures will be in.”

“I don’t know why she bothered you. I’ve already talked to her. I have an appointment with her next week.”

“Maybe she’s miffed that I didn’t do her wedding myself.”

Their words faded to background noise as Levi circled the studio, studying the photographs that hung on the walls—a pregnant woman standing partially in shadow, two toddlers playing with a bunny, a family wading in a river, several brides and graduates and chubby babies. Callie was good at chronicling life, he thought. She seemed to capture just the right nuances of lighting and expression—if these were all her work and not Tina’s.

In a small covelike display area, he found a picture of ten people, who all looked to be about the same age. Callie hadn’t taken this shot; she was in it. So was Kyle.

“You ready?” Callie asked

Levi glanced over at her. “Who are these people?”

“My best friends.”

“There’re a lot of them.”

She smiled. “Except for Chey, we’ve known one another since grade school.”

“Only in a place like this,” he murmured.

“Probably.” She fished out her keys. “There’s too much shifting around in the bigger cities.”

“You didn’t lose any of the group? None of them ever moved away?”

She pointed to a moderately attractive redhead at one end. “Gail did. She’s still gone, but she comes back to visit when she can. Do you recognize her?”

“No. Am I supposed to?”

“She’s married to Simon O’Neal.”

“The movie star Simon O’Neal?”

“One and the same.”

“How did she meet him?”

“She started a PR company in L.A. about eleven years ago. Used to do his publicity. She still does.”

“Didn’t he recently go through a very public meltdown?” He remembered getting bits and pieces of Hollywood gossip, even in Afghanistan.

“It’s been a couple of years, but yes. Definitely not his finest hour. That was before they fell in love and she got him turned around,” she added with a wink.

“I haven’t heard anything about him lately.” But he didn’t spend much time in front of the TV. Once he

returned home after his third tour, he took to the road almost immediately. At that point, what one movie star or another was or wasn’t doing seemed to have no relevance to his life.

“The fact that you haven’t heard anything is good news. It means he’s recovered.” She drew his attention to a dark-haired woman with olive skin and a severe widow’s peak. “This is Eve. She runs Little Mary’s

B and B down the street, which her parents bought shortly after their marriage.” She rested one graceful-looking hand on her hip. “It’s rumored to be haunted by the ghost of a six-year-old girl who was murdered in the basement in 1871.”

He slid his hands into his pockets. “Do you believe that’s true?”

“The murder’s documented. I don’t know about the haunting. Some strange things have certainly happened there. Eve’s not the superstitious type, would never make this up. And she’s not the only one who’s experienced strange noises and movement. Some people even claim to have seen the child’s ghost.”

“But not Eve.”

“She hasn’t, no.”

“Who killed the girl?”

“No one knows. The truth never came out.”

“Sounds like the twentieth-century equivalent of the JonBenét Ramsey case.”

“I guess you could say that. Unsolved Mysteries came here the first of the year and did a show on it. They hired investigators and forensic profilers and had Simon do a cameo appearance. In the end, they tried to say it was most likely the gardener, but I wasn’t convinced.”

“What about her father?”

Callie seemed mildly surprised by the question. “He was an older wealthy man who married late in life. Mary was his only child. You think he might’ve killed her?”

“I’m thinking he would’ve had access and opportunity.”

“But his own daughter?”

“Maybe she made him angry. Maybe he was trying to punish her and got carried away, went too far.” He understood how that went, didn’t he? If his father wasn’t beating on him physically, he was pushing him in the gym.

“The show suggested that exact scenario as their second favorite solution. But they couldn’t uncover any proof. I assume that’s why they went with the gardener. Who wants to believe a father could be so heinous?”

No one. Only the mother was likely to know what the father was capable of. But if she was as cowed as his mother had been, it wouldn’t matter. The child would be left with no protection.

Callie went through the rest of the group, telling him who everyone was and what each person did for a living. Noah Somebody owned a bike store. Baxter North commuted to San Francisco, where he worked as a stockbroker. Kyle manufactured solar panels.