Sticks and Stones Page 16

  Carmichael sighed and closed the folder up. His eyes met Leah’s. “Fine. I’ll take a looksie and decide if this warrants a deal and exactly what sort of deal I might be able to swing. Just remember, I’m doing this for you, Detective, not the prick you’re dating. I mean no offense. You seem nice, despite your obvious lack of good taste.”

  “None taken,” Leah said and passed him her card. “Please call me as soon as you’ve made your decision.”

  “Just so we’re square on this,” Carmichael said, taking her card and examining it. “I’m only saying there’s a chance I’ll be able to help. It’s not a hundred percent. I have to read the file.”

  “I understand,” Leah said. “But, as I said before, time is of the essence—”

  He interrupted her by raising his palm. “In case you didn’t notice, the weekend starts tomorrow. Maybe, if you’re real lucky, I’ll start on this tonight. But the earliest you’ll hear back from me is Monday. The earliest. That’s just the way it goes, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s fine,” Leah said. “I’ll wait for your call Monday mornin’. Thank you, Mr. Carmichael.”

  “Yeah,” Dan said, sarcastically mimicking Leah and sounding like he should be in a grammar school playground. “Thank you, Mr. Carmichael.” Then right before they walked out, he added, “By the way, you should feel lucky. She turned out to be a lousy lay. Your New Year’s Eve gala date, I mean. She passed out in my bed halfway through.”

  “That’s not saying much about you,” Leah said, raising her eyebrow.

  Carmichael’s laughter bellowed. “Oh, I like this one. Don’t get rid of her. She’s a keeper.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Jonathon showed up at Carry’s house expectantly around four o’clock Saturday afternoon.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Carry asked, opening the door. She’d spent the whole day in her pajamas watching cartoons and feeling like she had her old life back, before Jonathon, when everything was unequivocally boring. She hadn’t wanted to spend the day like this, but Jonathon told her he was off to visit his ma.

  “Why are you dressed for sleeping?” he asked her.

  “Why are you even here?” Carry asked back. “Thought you were goin’ to see your ma?”

  He gave her a half smile. “One of the nurses where she is called and said she wasn’t having a good day. Suggested I come another time.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno. Anyway, you want me to leave? You headed to bed?”

  A big smile burst onto her face. “No, I don’t want you to leave, silly. You’re my pooh bear.”

  Laughter spilt from his lips. “Your what?”

  “My pooh bear.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I do. I like it. So that’s what I’m goin’ to call you.”

  “Whatever. So, have you spent the whole day in your pj’s?”

  Carry let out a big breath, remembering how much time she’d wasted in her life just strewn out on the sofa staring at the television. Now she spent valuable time usually strewn out on the sofa watching television with Jonathon.

  “So, you comin’ in or what?” she asked. He was getting mighty wet in the rain that had been falling for so long Carry couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the sun. “Or are you tryin’ to catch pneumonia?”

  “No, I came to take you out, but you’re . . . not really dressed for it.”

  Carry continued smiling. “Give me ten minutes. And for God’s sake come inside. You’re getting soaked.”

  She turned and ran to her room to change, hearing Jonathon’s leather boots on the floor as he came in and closed the door behind him. “Awfully quiet in here!” he called out to her. “Where’s Abe?”

  “No idea,” Carry yelled back. She pulled on her pink shirt with the sequins and stepped into her white capris. She came back into the dining room and found her jacket hanging on the back of a chair. “Abe was here earlier,” she said, sitting on the floor and pulling on her boots. “But, to be honest, I try not to think about him that much.” She looked up at Jonathon. “You’re soaked,” she said.

  “There’s this thing about rain, though,” he said. “It dries.”

  She gave a little laugh. “So, where are we goin’?” Her fingers went to the hummingbird that had been hanging from her neck ever since Jonathon’s grandpa gave it to her. “I should leave my ma a note. What time will we be back?”

  Jonathon looked at his watch. “I dunno,” he said. “Six-ish?”

  Carry pulled the piece of paper from the junk drawer where it had been pinched and sticking out all week, took the pen her ma had sitting on top of her stack of files, and wrote a note telling her mother when she’d be home. Using the daisy magnet, she stuck the note on the fridge.

  “Okay?” Jonathon asked, his hand on the doorknob. “Ready to go?”

  Carry pulled up her hood. “Now I am. God, I hate all this rain.”

  “Without rain, the crops would die and Alvin would be bankrupt in no time. We rely on rain.” He opened the door just as lightning flashed over the rooftops and trees in the west.

  “Okay, Mr. Encyclopedia. Remember what I said ’bout not bein’ a geek? Don’t be a geek.”

  “Sorry,” he said, but Carry only saw his lips move. His voice was obscured as thunder cracked the sky wide open. “Is it just me or was that really loud?” he asked.

  Carry’s heart had sped up. “It’s not just you. That was scary.”

  Jonathon smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

  She grinned back, her fingers going to the carving hanging around her neck. “You don’t need to, remember? I’ve got my lucky hummingbird.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Are you kidding? I love it. My mother thought it was pretty awesome, too.”

  They walked outside and closed the door behind them. Holding hands, they walked across the drenched lawn to Jonathon’s car. He opened her door and she got inside. He turned on the ignition, and they started down Cottonwood Lane toward Hunter Road, the windshield wipers on high.

  “What happened to Alabama?” Jonathon asked as rain splattered the windshield’s glass and peppered the hood of his Sentra. “Summer was s’posed to have started three days ago.”

  “I reckon summer’s on vacation,” Carry said, then abruptly changed the subject. “You never said where we’re goin’.”

  “It’s a secret.”

  “Won’t be for long.”

  “True.”

  Carry noticed a small black case on the seat between them. It looked old. She picked it up. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, it’s um . . . one of my hobbies.”

  She scrunched up her face. They had been dating near on six months now, and she’d never heard him mention any hobbies. “What sort of hobby?” she asked.

  “Open it.”

  She did. Inside were long, thin tools all clipped into place. They all had little hooks and stuff on the end. “I, uh, I’m still not sure what your hobby is. Dentistry?”

  “No, it’s a lock-pick set.”

  A school of thought swam through her mind. She wasn’t even sure she’d heard him right. Did he say lock-pick set? “What . . . what do you do with it?”

  He laughed. “What do you think you do with a lock-pick set? You pick locks.”

  “You pick locks for a hobby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t sound too enthusiastic ’bout it.”

  “Well, I . . . um . . .” she stammered. “You know my mother’s a detective, right?”

  Jonathon laughed again. “I’m not a criminal. I just like picking locks.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Okay. I s’pose that’s all right.”

  “You watch,” he said. “I bet it comes in handy sometime.”

  “Okay,” she said, closing the case back up and returning it to where it was. “I’ll watch.”

  He tur
ned left onto Main Street.

  “You know,” Carry said. “The longer you drive, the more narrowed down the choices are becoming as to where you’re secretly taking me for supper.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you. I thought we might check out that new place, Greek Voyage. Haven’t had good souvlaki in a long time. You okay with Greek?”

  “Absolutely.” Carry beamed. “There isn’t too much food I don’t like.”

  Jonathon kept looking up in the sky, as though anticipating lightning. None came. Instead of thunder, all Carry heard was the continuous hollow thumping of rain pelting onto the roof of the car.

  They were on Main Street now, and Carry could see the restaurant coming up. She’d never actually had Greek food before, but she wasn’t about to tell Jonathon that. She wanted to appear worldly.

  After pulling to the curb, Jonathon killed the ignition and pulled out his keys. A moment later, he opened Carry’s door for her, something she was starting to get used to. She even told her mother about it. She had replied, “Nice to know chivalry’s not completely dead. Wish Dan would take a page or two from the Gospel of Jonathon.”

  Rain peppered them like buckshot as they hurried across the street to the restaurant. Again, Jonathon held the door open before following Carry through it.

  The inside of the place was a surprise. Netting covered the ceiling, holding up oversized starfish, beach balls, lobsters, clams, crabs, and all sorts of other sea-like things. It didn’t really remind Carry of Greece, but it was pretty cool. While Jonathon waited at the lectern for a hostess to come and seat them, Carry checked out the pictures of sailboats hung on the wall behind them, colorful ships being tossed on whitecaps. Behind the sailboats, saltbox houses clung to the mountainside like bats.

  The pictures looked more authentically Grecian than the plastic crabs hanging overhead.

  “Hey,” Jonathon said. Carry turned around to see a hostess with two menus standing in front of Jonathon, both of them waiting for her to follow them to a table.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I was lookin’ at the photos.”

  Jonathon smiled and took her hand. They followed the hostess around an impressive aquarium that stood vertically in the middle of the restaurant, reaching all the way from the floor to the ceiling. An assortment of colorful saltwater fish swam inside, ducking in and out of a coral reef that twisted purple and red from the aquarium’s bottom halfway to its top. Big bubbles rose from around the reef, ascending through the water. The aquarium was brightly lit with colors that cycled through an array of violets, greens, and pinks. Its glow glimmered into the restaurant, casting a magical aura across most of the booths.

  The hostess was a small girl, probably not much older than Carry, with dark red hair pulled back into a bun and big green eyes. Her lipstick matched the color of her hair, and both shimmered in the aquarium’s light. Once Carry and Jonathon were seated across from each other in one of the aquamarine booths, she handed each of them a menu.

  “Tammy will be your server tonight. She’ll be right by to take your drink orders,” the hostess said.

  Carry flipped open her menu and started going through it, hoping to find something that sounded at least familiar if not appetizing.

  “Um,” Jonathon stammered, “before we order, I was hoping we could talk a bit.”

  A feeling of doom crept its way inside Carry. “Oh,” she said, trying her best to hide it. Talking before ordering couldn’t be a good sign. She closed her menu, feeling quite conspicuous. “Are you . . . I mean, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Us,” Jonathon replied. “I think it’s time to ‘define’ our relationship.”

  Uh-oh, Carry thought. This really doesn’t sound good. “What do you mean by ‘define it’?”

  “Well, we’ve never actually talked about it head-on. What exactly do we have? Are we committed to each other completely? If someone asks you out on a date at school or somethin’, are you goin’ to go? What if you really want to? Should we talk about it before you do? You know, stuff like that. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  “Um.” Shit, Carry thought. “You want to go out with someone on a date?”

  Jonathon laughed. “Of course not!”

  “Then, why . . . um . . . I’m confused.”

  “Well, I guess, so am I. That’s why I want to define things.”

  Carry fidgeted uncomfortably. Her fingers played with her hummingbird as she glanced at the napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers sitting on the red-and-white-checkerboard tablecloth.

  “I, um . . . I thought we had defined it,” she said, at last. “I mean, not ‘officially,’ but I thought we were . . . um . . .”—damn, what was that word he just used? Oh yeah—“committed. At least.”

  Jonathon gave her a big grin. “That’s what I wanted to hear!” He let out a big breath. “For a minute there you had me on pins and needles. Truth is, I love you, Caroline Josephine Teal. And because I love you, I am giving you”—he pulled a little purple case from his pocket and placed it on top of Carry’s menu—“this.”

  Carry was still reeling from the “L word.” She’d felt that way about him for quite some time, but she never told him because she’d be crushed if he didn’t say it back. Hearing it now made her head feel like it was full of helium balloons. Her eyes were fixed on the purple case in front of her. She knew what it looked like, but . . . It can’t be . . . She thought. Can it?

  She knew her eyes were as big as the sun in those sailboat pictures as she looked up. “Is that . . . ?” she asked.

  Jonathon sat back. “I don’t know,” he said, crossing his arms. “Open it and find out.”

  She did. And it was. And her breath caught in her throat.

  A ring!

  The aquarium’s effervescent fairyland lights sparkled from the stone mounted on the golden band inside the small box, making it look deep red at first and then a color closer to purple. Whatever color it was, that color was now her favorite. “Oh my God,” she said. “What’s this for?”

  “For being my honeybee,” Jonathon said, smiling. His eyes caught the shimmering lights for a moment and Carry melted in them. “That’s my new name for you. None of this ‘pooh bear’ crap.”

  “You really don’t like ‘pooh bear’?” she asked.

  “I’m just kidding. You can call me anything you want. But you’re my honeybee.”

  “Perfect,” Carry said. “Oh, and I love you, too!” They kissed over the table. Carry couldn’t stop smiling.

  “It’s a promise ring,” Jonathon said. “It’s promising that one day I’ll be able to afford a diamond one. Try it on.”

  She popped the ring out of its box and slipped it on her finger. “How did you know my size?”

  “I played a trick on you. Remember last week? We were playing that game with the string?”

  “Cat’s cradle?”

  “Yeah. Remember when I looped it around your fingers, pretending to tie you up?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. You’re so dumb.”

  “No, I’m not. That’s how I got your size.”

  A girl, different from the hostess, appeared at their table, this one with black hair hanging down her back and big blue eyes that looked almost recessed into her heart-shaped face. She wore a white shirt tucked into black pants. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Tammy. I’ll be your waitress for the evening. Can I start you off with any drinks or appetizers? Dolmathes are on special tonight.”

  “I’ll have a Coke,” Jonathon said.

  “I’ll have a sweet tea,” Carry said.

  “Do you want any appetizers?” Jonathon asked Carry. “I love dolmathes, don’t you?”

  “Um, yeah. They’re the best.” She had no idea what dolmathes were.

  “So, one order of dolmathes?” the waitress asked.

  “Yep.”

  When the appetizers came out twenty minutes later, dolmathes wound up being grape leaves stuffed with rice, served in some weird white sauce. Carry absolut
ely hated just the thought of it, never mind the actual taste. But she pretended to love it and ate half the plateful. Food didn’t mean anything to her anymore. The only important thing in her world was the ring on her finger and the fact that Jonathon had told her he loved her.

  He’d given her a promise ring. He promised her his love.

  Jonathon, her pooh bear.

  CHAPTER 18

  I had been reading Understanding Forensics, the book that came with My First Forensics Lab, since Monday. I’d made it to page seventy-five, which I thought was pretty good since I was reading slowly, making sure I understood everything. Plus, it had some big words I didn’t know, so I had to keep looking them up in my mother’s dictionary, which she gave me after I kept asking her what different words meant. That all happened days ago, on Tuesday, when we were all sitting in the living room. Well, me, my mother, and Dan were there. Carry wasn’t home. She was likely out with Jonathon.

  “What does felony mean?” I asked.

  “Means it’s time for us to get to work,” Dan said.

  I ignored him. I knew he’d never give me a proper answer. I looked at my mother.

  “What’re you readin’?” she had asked.

  I showed her the cover.

  “ ’Bout time you opened that box. I’m surprised you found it.”

  “I looked in my closet first,” I said.

  “I’m surprised you found your closet, too. Your room’s always such a mess.”

  “Are you gonna tell me what the word means?”

  “Tell you what,” she said and got up and left the room. She came back ten minutes later and handed me a book. “Look up any words you don’t know in here.”

  I read the front. “Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary,” I said. “What’s collegiate mean?”

  “Look that up first,” Dan suggested. I ignored him, but looked up felony instead.

  Since then, it feels like I’ve looked up a hundred words. One thing was for certain, Understanding Forensics was adding to my vocabulary.