Aftermath (35 page)

Ben's Story

Stephanie barely stopped talking since I picked her up.

It was nervous chatter that continued aloud and in her head. The mere minutes she was outwardly quiet, she chewed on her lower lip. It was then that her random thoughts were the most entertaining and the most annoying, especially when they included me.
I can’t wait for everyone to see us. We look great as a couple.
And the best of all,
I hope he kisses me in front of Lucas.

Fat chance I’d do that.

Thinking of ways to get even with Molly for not warning me was a great pastime while in the midst of Stephanie’s company. At least daydreaming about other things would prevent me from hearing Stephanie’s irritating voice and her juvenile thoughts.

By the time we got to the Inn for pictures, I was mentally exhausted. I did everything a good date was supposed to do. I met her parents, gave her a corsage, posed for pictures, and opened the car door, but I avoided holding her hand. I didn’t need to download any more information.

As we walked in the door, I smelled a hybrid. Stephanie was irritated with my inattentiveness, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t like all eyes were on us, or anyone would announce our arrival, like they did in the Cinderella-type of movies she envisioned in her head.

I offered to get us drinks and went to the parking lot instead. I followed a man resembling a younger version of George Kensington, the farmer that went missing. I was sure it was him and guessed Victor converted him to a hybrid.

The parking lot was full. Aside from the usual customers, thirty-plus kids and their parents descended upon the Inn for the photo op. The hybrid’s scent led me to the far corner to the last row near the woods, where a lone Audi sat idling with two passengers.

Even though I was sure the man I saw was Kensington, I needed confirmation to appease the paperwork generals. Before I reached the car, the scent vanished, leaving me questioning if I was losing my mind.

Backup’s on the way,
Jorgenson confirmed. The Prestons, Molly’s undercover parents, were heading over as part of the homecoming festivities, anyway. Even though tracking hybrids wasn’t their forte, having someone was better than no one when dealing with Victor.

The driver rolled down his window when I reached him. “Can I help you, young man?” The man was the same age as Kensington, with similar gray hair, but he wasn’t the same man. His wife stared at me with bright wide eyes that disclosed her fear. Both were human. Their hearts raced as a result of my approach.

“Sorry. I thought you were someone else,” I answered solemnly. “Have a good evening.”

The man nodded and rolled up the window, as his wife asked what I said. She suffered from undiagnosed Alzheimer’s. He’d have a long road ahead of him, I thought, as I called off the backup and headed into the Inn.

Stephanie gave me a stern look when we met at the bar.

“Sorry. Bathroom break. Did you want the punch? Otherwise, I heard they’ve got some spritzer,” I said, trying to be attentive.

“Yeah, sure. Spritzer.” She smiled. Even though she didn’t say it aloud, when Stephanie searched the room, her thoughts screamed,
Where’s Lucas?

I didn’t mind, actually. She wasn’t my first choice for a date, either. As a gentleman, I went through the motions, getting her a drink, posing for pictures, and mingling with her friends. She wasn’t nearly as compromising when I suggested we get a photo with Drew and Claire. Instead, she rolled her eyes and pointed out someone else she knew.

Molly, what’s your ETA?
I asked.

She’s already on your nerves?

I took a deep breath.

Okay, okay. I sense your irritation. We’re three minutes out,
she answered.
Oh, by the way, nice job stalking the elderly couple. You actually fell for a bait and switch?
I heard her chuckle in my head as I sipped on a 7UP and Stephanie talked about where she got her dress.

“You look really nice,” I told her. After all, it was expected.

Benjamin. Behave! She’s actually a nice girl,
Molly scolded.

By the time Molly arrived, the photographer called everyone for a group photo. Stephanie grabbed my hand and led me out to the balcony. I was a pawn in her game of chess. She directed which way to face, and what side she wanted to be on. The photographer ordered people to smile and clicked away.

A gentle breeze blew by, carrying the familiar scent I grew to hate. Bait and switch again, I thought, when the smell quickly disappeared. I would have left to check the area, but as the photographer moved everyone to the stairs, I saw Emma and lost all interest in hybrids.

If my heart were able to stop beating, it would have.

Brunette curls framed Emma’s ivory cheeks that pinkened when I said hello. Her eyes glanced away and then back at me. Time stood still. My mouth was suddenly dry and my palms sweaty. I was sixteen again, like the first time she spoke to me at the island on Lake Bell. Emma was more beautiful than Elizabeth was on our wedding day.

My mind wandered back to that day when I stood at the altar of Holy Name Church. Elizabeth walked toward me, a smile plastered on her face. Her white satin dress clung to her curves. When her father raised her veil and her blue eyes met mine, they sparkled. We recited our vows, and I promised to love her forever.

It was why I was here.

Stephanie nudged me, and I snapped back to reality. “Let’s move by Molly,” she said.

Instead, I floated a different idea to the photographer. Suddenly, he had another lineup in mind and I found myself settling in beside Emma. It took all of my self-control not to tell her who I really was. I envisioned sweeping her up in my arms and kissing her until she remembered, but I didn’t.

Like a dog marking its territory, Lucas wedged himself between us. It was obvious he caught our glances. Emma tensed when his hand touched her. I really needed to do something about him.

It aggravated me that Emma let him back into her life after the incident in Evanston. Then again, I understood the need for her to keep peace and maintain whatever family she had left, despite how unconventional a family that was.

The thought stirred further irritation that Jorgenson couldn’t diagnose the component in Lucas’ blood sample.

It mutated,
Jorgenson told me the day before.

What do you mean?

I mean, the sample didn’t contain any abnormal components like you indicated.

What? It was there,
I answered.

But it wasn’t present when the sample was transported through the portal and checked in at the lab.

Which means?

It means he’s normal. We’ve got it under observation, just in case.

Have you seen this before?
I asked, though I already knew the answer was no.

Sorry, Ben,
Jorgenson said, his tone low and sympathetic.

The photographer snapped a few shots, while a couple of guys cracked jokes behind us and parents mingled in clusters lakeside.

Barb Carmichael chatted with Drew’s mom. TJ’s dad talked politics with Grant Preston, while Stephanie’s mom stood by my aunt and commented how pretty the Inn was at this time of year. “Perfect for pictures,” she said.

The October afternoon was unseasonably warm, which brought everyone outdoors and had the dads talking about golf like it was still summer. I’d have to remember to thank Jorgenson for holding back the cold front originally forecasted for the weekend.

When Lucas leaned closer to Emma for the photo, I cringed. I began to wonder if Neal and Char were normal. Well, human, that was. I remembered how abnormal Char’s mind was, but I chalked it up to drug addiction, not rare components in her bloodstream.

Jorgenson,
I summoned.
What’s Lucas’ blood type?

O positive,
he answered seconds later.
Why?

Do you have record of Char’s blood type?

We don’t keep any records on that. Benjamin, despite your observations, she’s never hit the radar.

That was what I was afraid of.

Wait. Are you questioning if she’s Lucas’ biological mother?
he asked.

I wasn’t, but—

That’s been confirmed,
he said.

And paternity?

Nothing’s in the file.

I loosened my shield and called to the agent posing as Molly’s dad. The photographer continued snapping away.
Grant, do you keep medical records on police officers?

Yes,
he answered instantaneously. He was a physician at Westport Memorial. I told him what I was looking for and watched as he excused himself from the conversation with Tom Lambert.

The photographer dismissed the kids, and we dispersed. Staff circulated with trays of appetizers and beverages, as small groups of people took their own photos in the garden, on the stone patio, and at the lake.

Stephanie instructed her mother to take pictures of her, Molly, and several other girls in every setting and in a variety of poses, while I joined the rest of the guys hovering close enough not to get in trouble, yet far enough away not to get assigned a task. One poor guy wasn’t paying attention and got too close. He was suddenly juggling multiple phones and cameras, ordered to take pictures. I felt his pain when his date complained that he didn’t tell them to say cheese and as a result, she wasn’t ready. “My eyes were closed!” she whined.

Even Stephanie rolled her eyes. I guessed that was what Molly meant when she said Stephanie wasn’t that bad. Until now, I couldn’t believe anyone could be worse than Stephanie was.

TJ nudged my arm. “Lucas hid some vodka in the bushes around the corner.”

“Let’s go.” We casually backed away from the group and took the path past the staircase and out of view. A brown paper bag was tucked among a patch of impeccably trimmed, knee-high shrubs. TJ poured a healthy dose of the clear liquid in his half glass of coke, and then poured some in mine. I stirred the cocktail with my finger and took a sip. Vodka and 7UP wasn’t my first choice, but neither was pretending to be a teenager again.

“Coke’s not much better with it,” TJ said when I glanced at him. “I think Lucas has whiskey for later. You going to Trent’s?”

I nodded as Molly asked where we were, and TJ rattled off who expected to be there.

Nervous TJ will share something?
I teased.

No. Okay, maybe,
Molly answered, though she didn’t need to be. TJ talked about the party more than anything. I really wasn’t interested. I had other things on my mind, like watching Emma. Considering TJ was a good guy, I acted like I cared.

We headed back on the walkway, where the uncomfortable aroma of a hybrid met me head on. TJ never noticed, but the scent was overwhelming once we rounded the edge of the staircase. The crowd of kids and parents was thicker than when we left, which made locating its source more difficult.

I scanned the group, looking to pick up where the scent came from. When TJ noticed my look, he casually pointed toward the gazebo. “Molly and Steph are over there. Hey, Trent’s here. With that foreign exchange student.”

“Yeah. I see ’em.”

“I say we stay here until summoned otherwise,” he said and chuckled.

I nodded, still searching for the hybrid. Nothing seemed out of place. Human thoughts appeared normal.

No sign of it over here,
Molly said from the left side of the premises.

I don’t smell anything either,
Claire answered from the patio on the opposite end.

It seems to be coming from the lake. By the pier, in front of me.
As the thought came to mind, I noticed Emma heading straight into it.

I told TJ I’d be back and went after her, crossing through grass patches that didn’t look like they were ever stepped on before. When I circled around a group of giggly girls and another cluster of parents, I sensed the essence of something non-human. It had to be Victor. Where could he be hiding and why?

Emma reached the building at the shoreline and turned out of sight. I picked up my pace, navigating the winding sidewalk past more teenagers. When I thought I was clear of anyone that could slow me down, Lucas’ mom took a step backward, bumping into me. She was uneasy in her heels and practically fell.

“Oh, dear! I’m so sorry,” Char said when I caught her.

“It’s fine. Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes. Oh… I know you.” She grabbed my hand in both of hers. “You’re that sweet boy that stopped by the house. You’re friends with Lucas.” She turned sideways to look at Neal and some black-haired man who faced the other way.

I nodded, and the download processed. Disjointed files loaded sporadically, same as last time. I hoped I’d learn something new, or uncover a hidden map. No luck.

“Ray! Ray! This is…” She attempted to get the attention of the dark-haired man. “What’s your name again?” She looked at me.

“Ben.”