Flying in Shadows (The Black Creek Series, Book 2) (17 page)

Thinking she might snap, she asked what she didn't want to know, "What's the matter
with you?"

His eyes didn't leave the television. "Matter?"

She walked over and turned off the set and stood in front of it. "Yes. Matter."

The muscles in his jaw bulged before he took a breath and turned to meet her eyes.
"I'm going to crash early tonight. Let's finish this tomorrow." As if she hadn't asked
a question, he walked to her, gave her hand a squeeze and another kiss on top of her
head. "See you then, all right? Same time?"

He didn't walk her home. She spent most of the night with her eyes open, curled in
her sheets with both feet tucked under the weight of Charcoal.

The next day was her zoo shift. Andy's site was still muddy and inaccessible. She
generally didn't mind working in the wet or even the rain. But, knowing that Andy
had the day off made her feel left out of... of something. The feeling of panic and
desperation took her over and made it impossible to think.

She spent the morning going through the motions of work, assisting the head zookeeper
prepare bamboo leaves and formulated pellets for the red pandas and a mix of fruits
for the tamarin monkeys. She walked silently along the concrete pathway from exhibit
to exhibit, placing food trays in enclosures and dead chicks onto stands for the bald
eagles and red-tailed hawks.

Numbness began to take her when she forced herself to remember that it was Andy who
initiated their meeting that night.

During dinner, Charcoal sat on the carpet at the edge of the kitchen linoleum. She
wished her mom would eat more. She was becoming so thin. She knew Dave worried and
that they fought about it. They loved each other; she was sure of that. But she was
feeling confused as to what love was supposed to look like. Feel like.

Jessica rambled on about her latest love interest. At the age of twelve, they lasted
between three and four days. Rose looked around at her family and thought of how different
it would be in just a few weeks when she moved out, when she moved to her future.

It was well past dark when she tiptoed out her back door, quickly walking down her
cul-de-sac toward Black Creek. She cut between houses before turning on her flashlight.
It was slightly overcast but not enough that she couldn't still see Andy waiting on
the bridge for her. How sweet.

He stood in a light jacket, collared polo and worn jeans. Resting his forearms on
the smooth rail, he looked toward the rippling lake.

She walked to him and reached for his hand. He turned to face her and placed his into
his pockets. This time she could read his face. And it petrified her.

"Listen." He looked down to her. "We've been friends a long time."

Best friends and our entire lives, she corrected in her mind.

"I've decided to take off early."

The fear of understanding began to wrap around her feet and held them to the bridge
beneath her.

"We've tried this dating thing. It's not working for me."

The fear crept higher, wrapping around her torso and strangling her lungs, her heart.
She could feel her head slowly start to shake back and forth but words couldn't escape
her choking throat.

Looking deep into the caramel of his eyes, she tried to see something. But what she
saw confused her. A hole began to open in her heart. Gaping. More painful than anything
she'd ever experienced. She didn't remember telling her lips to speak, just that they
did. "I love you." She vaguely sensed a steady stream of tears that fell over her
lids and down her cheeks.

There was no spark in his eyes from her declaration. No yearning. No regret. That
was it? All this and then,
It's not working for me?
Andy's expression remained exactly as it was. Unreadable. He stood with his jaw flexing,
eyelids half opened, staring at her as her knees began to buckle under her weight.
There was no offer to hold her up this time.

Finally, he answered, "You're really just not my type."

And at that, she felt the wooden slats of the bridge hit her knees hard as she dropped.
She welcomed the physical pain. The backs of her hands lay limp on her thighs as her
shoulders shook madly.

"Don't write me this time," she heard him say as he meandered casually away from her.

To keep her head from exploding, she pressed her hands, fingers spread as hard as
she could to around her ears, her face and let herself fall to her side onto the cool,
damp boards. Somehow she sensed that she wailed loudly, but inside her head was a
swirl of muffled noise. Curling into a ball, she lay listening to the sound of the
water rush away beneath her, taking her heart along with it.

* * *

Amanda stood defensively against the counter in their kitchen, eyes bloodshot, hands
shaking. "This is textbook eighteen-year-old," she barked. "You tell them what they
can't do and they're going to do the opposite."

"Are we gonna wait until we wake up one day and find her gone? She's our responsibility.
Damn it, Amanda. Think about it." Dave hit the palm of his hand on the kitchen wall
near the phone.

"Nolans'." He ran a hand over his head and then stopped, grabbing the back of his
neck. "Where? How long?"

Sloppily, Amanda grabbed his shirt.

"We'll go get her." He dropped his head. "Don't be, Andy. Take care of yourself."

* * *

"Mom. Dad." Duncan never walked into his aunt and uncle's bedroom this late at night.

They had been sleeping, but turned on the light in response to the awkwardness of
his interruption.

"I heard something in the garage. Andy's car is gone. He's gone."

"He's nineteen, Duncan. He can leave the house if he wants to at..." Nathan looked
toward the red digital numbers and looked back. "...one thirty. Shit." He swung his
legs to the floor and sat up.

"I went to check. There are two fist-sized holes in the drywall. His room is empty.
My wallet was open. He took my driver's license."

Both Nathan and Brie got out of bed. Pulling on a pair of pants, Nathan asked him
what else he knew.

Duncan shook his head. "I looked in his room. It's ... well, clean. The dressers are
cleared off. I think I know where he might have gone. I'm going to check around. Why
don't you call over to the Nolans'? I'll call you if I find him."

* * *

Duncan did find him just where he'd suspected. Andy was at the dark end of the long
wooden bar at Mikey's Pub and Grill, staring at the shot of whiskey in front of him.

He walked toward his little brother cautiously. Barely on his bar stool, Andy tossed
back the shot and hesitated before setting the glass back down on the scuffed counter.

The bartender efficiently took it and glanced up at Duncan, understanding they must
be together. "Glad you're here. I was about to call him a cab. Just about closing
time."

Andy must have had enough presence to figure out that the bartender was speaking about
him. He turned his head groggily to see who was there. "F-f-fuck," he slurred when
his eyes landed on Duncan. Then, he signaled for another shot.

"Enough, Andy. We're leaving."

"Fuck you." Andy missed his hand as he tried to set his chin on his palm.

He'd never seen his brother drunk. "It's closing time, Andy. I'm taking you home."

Duncan paid the bill and was relieved when Andy followed like a mindless puppy.

Hanging onto him, Duncan said one word in question, "Rose?"

Andy's eyelids slowly drooped closed and opened again. "Mind your own f-f-fucking
business."

Carrying much of his weight, he led Andy toward his car. "We can come back and get
the Mustang in the morning. Let's get you to bed."

Andy shook his head and held his hand out to stop himself, hitting only air. "Not
going back. New York."

"You were going to drive to the city? Tonight? Drunk?" He pulled Andy reluctantly
along.

"Didn't think that far." Andy stopped and held his stomach. "I'm not going back,"
he repeated before tossing up half the whiskey while bracing against the nearest tree.

He leaned Andy against the puke-free side of the oak, looking for some answers. "Okay.
Talk."

Andy took three long breaths. "I'm gonna go stay with Chase. I've got all my sh-shit.
Shit." He turned around and walked toward the Mustang. Duncan felt at least a little
better when Andy waited by the passenger door.

Okay, Duncan thought. "Driving into the city tonight. No problem," he muttered sarcastically.
"All right, Andy. All right. Let me call Nathan and Brie. You should have told them."

Chapter 14

EIGHT YEARS LATER...

"This is Jenna Woith reporting for WCEL TV here at the Seneca Botanical Gardens where
a pair of wild eaglets are about to be banded. A crowd of just over a hundred is waiting
eagerly this morning as Dr. Rosemarie Piper climbs to where the nest lay twined in
branches nearly ninety feet in the air. Jay, pan the tree, if you would, please."

The crowd stood in a semicircle behind a line of yellow caution tape secured by staggered
saw horses. Behind them spread acres of thick green grass, trimmed to precision and
framed with large clusters of coordinated color from hundreds of different flowering
trees, bushes and perennials. Eager spectators ranged in age from the very young to
the very old and nearly all held binoculars zoned in on Rose. The reporter spoke into
a microphone that not only recorded for the station but amplified for the crowd. She
was used to it. She wore a pair of loose-fitting carpenter pants, climbing shoes and
a hard hat secured over her red bandana. Her slender, muscular legs held her easily
between branches of the American Sycamore.

The bucket of the cherry picker reached only seventy feet into the warm, sunny sky.
She created an organized maze of leads and safety lines so she could climb the rest
of the way to the nest. Slowly, she loaded the first compliant eaglet into what would
look like a common duffel bag to the cameraman below.

She noticed as the reporter rotated her stance and slightly faced Rose's assistant
who stood next to her while Jenna still profiled the camera. "Next to me is Dr. Piper's
assistant, Graciela Perez. Miss Perez, can you give us an idea of what we are about
to see here?" Jenna craned her head up toward Rose and shivered.

As Rose began to use a simple pulley system to send down the first eaglet, she kept
an eye on her favorite assistant. Grace stood in sandals and tight jeans that hugged
her healthy hips. Her shiny, brown hair tied in a low ponytail, exposing her black
eyes and the smooth, caramel color of her face.

Grace pulled her head back a bit. It made Rose smile. Grace never could get used to
the microphones. They had been together since Rose was one of Grace's professor's
TAs in grad school. Grace was more into parties than worrying about little things
like a doctorate. Rose watched as she prepared herself to give this speech for the
twelfth time this season. Grace took a deep breath and began explaining the first
eaglet's descent, followed by descriptions of the myriad of measuring instruments
that waited on a long, rectangular table in the center of the group of onlookers.

* * *

Andy faked patience like a pro. He schmoozed the oldest builder in central upstate
New York into letting him in on some lots in the new Country Club Estates II subdivision.
Knowing he owed Don Greenberg a beer for the contact, he reaffirmed his commitment
of quality to the older builder he had on the other end of his cell and listened to
the latest story about his grandchildren. Uncharacteristically, Andy was only half
listening. Mostly, he was watching the WCEL broadcast.

The times he saw Rose were few and far between, each the same punch as the one before.
A mixture of pride for her success and a stabbing pain at the sight of her choked
him.

Hanging up the phone, he propped his feet on the walnut desk his uncle had made for
him. The expansive top was stained dark, exposing the tight lines of grain. The sides
were complicated without being ornate. It was the centerpiece of his office and portrayed
an image of sturdiness and proficiency, which was exactly what Andy was going for.
Nathan was a genius.