Crowned and Moldering (15 page)

“Thanks, Shannon.” Denise sniffled, obviously getting a little choked up. She pulled
out a tissue and blew her nose delicately. “It’s still a shock to me. I spent so many
years feeling angry and worried and confused. I couldn’t understand how Lily could
leave when she had everything going for her. I mean, it seemed so selfish somehow.”

“I knew her a little,” I said. “Not like you did, of course. But when she disappeared,
I took it so personally. And it hurt.”

“Exactly.” Denise struggled to gulp back tears. “Do you remember how she had the lead
in the school play our senior year? And she’d applied for a bunch of scholarships
because she was determined to escape those parents of hers and make a good life for
herself.”

“That’s what Sean told me.”

“I felt betrayed. Abandoned.” Denise stared up at the sky, lost in thought. Finally,
she said, “And now to find out that she never left. I feel so awful for thinking all
those things about her. That she was only concerned about herself, or that maybe she
just gave up on everything.”

“I remember thinking,
How could she run away before the Spring Festival?
Her understudy had to take over her role in
Grease
.”

Denise nodded. “I was so mad at her.”

We stood in silence for a long moment until I said, “If you ever need to talk about
anything, I’m around.”

“You’re sweet, Shannon. I really appreciate it.”

“Did you know the police talked to Mr. Dain?”

Her eyes darkened and her lips tightened with resentment. “Good. Maybe they’ll arrest
him.”

“Was he your counselor?”

“No, thank goodness. But he was Lily’s.” She grabbed the shovel handle and thrust
the steel cutting blade over and over into the soft ground, as though she were attacking
the dirt. “I could kill him for the things he said to her.”

*   *   *

Once Denise and I were finished talking, I had to shake off the sad vibes and get
down to the business of shopping. I bought three heavy bags of potting soil, six colorful
pots with bases, a new trowel, a pair of gloves, and a dozen four-inch containers
of herbs I planned to keep inside, next to my kitchen window, until the weather turned
warmer.

Mac had a long talk with one of the landscapers and set up an appointment to meet
at the mansion the following week. Then he bought a hardy outdoor plant for his balcony
table and a few herbs for his kitchenette. “They’ll keep the place smelling nice,”
he said.

We paid for our purchases and used a flatbed cart to carry them out to the truck.

“It’s always a good time with you, Irish,” Mac said, as I drove back to town.

I shook my head in frustration. “We didn’t get any information from her at all.”

“Yeah, but it was interesting to see her working that shovel blade.”

“I was mesmerized,” I admitted.

“I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that anger.”

“I know.” I stared thoughtfully at the road. “I’m not sure she realized what she was
doing.”

“Maybe not. But if this guy Dain goes missing, you’ll know who to call.”

“I don’t blame her for hating him.” I confessed what Dismal Dain had advised me back
in my freshman year. After Mac had a good laugh, I told him Dain’s horrible advice
to Lily.

“No, that’s impossible,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. “He sounds like the
very opposite of a counselor.” He stared out the window for a few seconds, then back
at me. “You’ve described a caricature. He doesn’t sound human. I know you’re not kidding,
but I find it hard to believe someone like that is still employed.”

“You’re not the only one,” I muttered.

“No wonder Denise wanted to kill him,” he mused. “As if being in school and trying
to figure out who you are, who you want to be, aren’t hard enough. I can understand
why she was pounding that shovel so intensely now.”

I shivered at that image, and we spent the rest of the drive in silence.

Once we got home, Mac helped me carry the heavy bags back to my potting shed behind
the garage.

“I promised you dinner,” he said as we walked back to the patio. “How do you feel
about grilling steaks here instead of going out?”

“That sounds great. Much better than going out.”

“Good. I’ll run up to the store and get everything we need.” He pulled me closer and
wrapped his arms around me. “I had a good time at the nursery.”

“I did, too.”

He lifted my chin with his fingers and kissed me.

“There you are!”

We were both startled enough to jump away from each other. I turned to see who had
spoken.

The girl standing at my open back gate was very beautiful and very young. And very
blond, naturally. She wore a short black leather jacket, faded denim jeans, and boots.
And she was grinning ecstatically at Mac.

Mac looked completely flummoxed. “Callie?”

I exhaled slowly, feeling myself deflate. Another blonde? And could she be any younger?
What was with this guy? And what was with
me
for buying into his act again?

“I guess dinner’s off,” I said stiffly. “Have a good time with your ‘friend.’ See
you around.” I walked away quickly and crossed the patio to my kitchen door, feeling
like a complete idiot.

“What? Wait. No. Shannon!”

I didn’t stop; just kept climbing the steps. I had to get inside before I said something
I would be sorry for later.

“Uncle Mac?” the blonde said. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

I blinked and turned to take a second look.

Uncle
Mac?

“Callie is my sister’s daughter,” Mac whispered while his niece locked up her bicycle.

I had sort of figured that out in the nick of time. “Do you know what she’s doing
here?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

I was almost afraid to ask, but I went ahead. “Does your sister know she’s here?”

His forehead creased with concern. “Callie, does your mother know you’re here?”

She averted her gaze. “Um, not exactly. I thought we could maybe call her together.”

“So she’ll yell at me, not you?”

She bit her lip. “She probably won’t yell at you, Uncle Mac.”

He gave her a cynical look. “Who are you trying to kid?”

“I guess you’re right.” Callie sighed. “She yells at anyone who’s got to tell her
bad news.”

That doesn’t sound good,
I thought. Had this happened before? Did the girl run away from home often? And where
did she live? Close enough that she could ride her bike to Mac’s garage apartment,
apparently. So why hadn’t I heard about Mac’s sister and her daughter before now?

“Okay.” Mac pulled out his cell phone. “No time like the present to get yelled at.”

“Wait,” Callie said, grabbing Mac’s arm. “Here’s the thing. She’s in Brussels.”

“Brussels.” Mac repeated the word and stared at his niece as if he hadn’t understood
her. “As in Belgium? As in Europe?”

“Yeah. She’s working on a trial over there.” Callie checked her wristwatch and calculated.
“And it’s, um, about midnight there.”

He glared at the teenager. “So if I call her, I’m going to wake her up.”

“Yeah. So are you sure you don’t want to wait until morning?”

“No,” Mac said brusquely. “Because when it’s tomorrow morning in Brussels, it’ll be
the middle of the night here.”

She grimaced. “Oh yeah.”

“I’d rather wake her up than have her wake me up.” He winked at me, letting me know
he wasn’t quite as frazzled by all this family drama as he seemed.

“Let’s go inside,” I said. “It’s warmer and you’ll be able to hear the phone call
better.”

“Good idea,” Mac said.

Callie lifted her backpack, and once she was in my kitchen she set it against the
far wall.

I pointed to the table. “Have a seat.”

“You have a dog,” Callie said when Robbie presented himself to her. “What a cutie.”

“His name is Robbie and he’s really friendly.”

“Can I hold him?”

“Sure. He loves the attention.”

“Okay.” She sat down and patted her knees. Robbie hopped up onto her lap and gazed
adoringly at her. “Oh, he’s so sweet.”

“He sure is,” I said, smiling. Anyone who liked my pets was okay with me. “Would you
like a glass of water?”

“Yes, please.”

I poured three glasses and handed one to Mac, who stood leaning against the counter.
He gave me a ragged look that I interpreted to mean,
Holy Pete. I wasn’t expecting this.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. All I could think was,
The weirdness continues.
I wouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point.

I gave Callie her water and sat down at the table. Tiger, not to be outdone by the
dog, immediately leaped onto my lap and made herself at home.

“How long has your mom been gone?” I asked Callie as I sipped my water.

She calculated in her head. “It’s been about ten days.”

“And you’ve been home alone all this time?”

“Oh no,” she said, stroking Robbie’s back. “Karl and Mavis are there.”

Mac filled me in. “Karl and Mavis work for my sister.”

“Like housekeepers?”

“More like bodyguards,” Callie said offhandedly. “Mavis cooks, too. Karl’s in charge
of the grounds and he drives my mom to work.”

I stared wide-eyed at Mac.
Wow, more things I didn’t know.
The man was a constant surprise. “Your sister lives on an estate with bodyguards?”

Mac shrugged. “It’s complicated. And it’s not exactly an estate; just a few acres,
but big enough to need a small staff. And her job is sort of odd. So, bodyguards.”

“Where do you live?” I asked Callie.

“Bel Air. That’s sort of next to Beverly Hills.”

“Right. I’ve heard of it.” No wonder Callie carried that sense of entitlement with
her. Children of wealthy parents sometimes had it ingrained within them. It didn’t
make her a bad person, just . . . entitled. I realized I couldn’t even tell her age,
and I wondered if she was still in school.

And how did she get from Bel Air to Lighthouse Cove on her bicycle?

“How old are you, Callie?”

“Sixteen, but I’m practically seventeen.”

“In six months,” Mac pointed out casually. “That doesn’t quite qualify as
practically
.”

“But I’m mature for my age.”

Mac chuckled, but left it at that.

“Is Callie short for something?” I asked.

She smiled. “It’s short for Calla Lily.”

“That’s pretty.”

“I like it. It’s different. My mother was a flower child.”

“When she was young,” Mac added. “She grew up to be a shark.”

A little confused, I turned back to Callie. “Are you still in school?”

“Um.” She cast a cautious glance at her uncle, who was watching her every move. “Well,
that’s the thing.”

Mac raised one eyebrow. “
That’s
the thing? Exactly
what
thing is
that
thing?”

She made an exasperated sound. “Uncle Mac, you’re being weird.”

“Uncles are supposed to be weird,” he said, as if that explained everything. It didn’t,
of course, and I expected him to revisit her comment about
that
thing shortly. And if he didn’t, I would. Because now I was desperate to know what
that
thing was.

Mac still hadn’t made the call. I figured he wanted to hear Callie out completely
first.

“What does your mom do, Callie?” I asked, although I was fairly certain I knew.

“She’s a lawyer.”

Just as I suspected. “Thus your shark reference.”

Mac grinned.

“So she’s a lawyer. That sounds interesting.” I sipped my water. “What kind of law
does she practice that takes her to Europe?”

She pursed her lips in thought. “I’m not sure this is exactly right, but she calls
it
white-collar crime
.”

“So her clients are businessmen?”

“Well, sort of, but not exactly.” Callie scratched behind Robbie’s ears and sent my
little dog into spasms of ecstasy. Whatever else happened here today, my dog was seriously
in love. “I mean, I suppose they have white collars, but they’re more like war criminals
and drug kingpins than actual businessmen. And she worked with some mafioso guys a
few years ago. And there was that gang member a while ago. Remember him, Uncle Mac?”

“Oh yeah.”

I blinked. Mac walked over and stood behind me, gave my shoulders a comforting rub,
then reached down to take hold of my hand in his. I clutched his hand tightly and
contemplated the fact that he had a sister and a niece who dealt with dangerous criminals.

“So,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I’ll bet that’s a really intense job.”

Callie nodded. “She does a lot of yoga.”

I could feel Mac’s arms shaking and knew he was laughing. This was the strangest conversation
I’d ever had with anyone.

“How did you get here, Callie?” I asked, still clutching Mac’s hand.

Her eyes brightened. “I figured it out all by myself. Did you know there’s no direct
route from LA to here if you’re not driving a car? So basically, I rode my bike from
my house to the Culver City Metro station and took the Metro to Union Station in downtown
LA. I got a ticket on the Coast Starlight train to Oakland and from there, I transferred
to the Capitol Corridor train to someplace called Martinez and then I got on the bus
to Ukiah.”

I was sort of impressed. This was one determined, very smart girl.

I didn’t want to look at Mac because I knew his eyes had to be bulging out of his
head. His sixteen-year-old niece had been wandering around the train stations in downtown
LA, Oakland, and Martinez? Fascinating.

“Once you get to Ukiah,” I said, prompting her to continue, “it’s pretty easy to take
a bus to the coast.”

“I was going to do that, but since I had my bike on the train with me, I found this
really cool app with some great bike routes. So I ended up riding along Highway 253
to Highway 128. And I ended up here.”

“That’s a long ride.”

“Yeah. I didn’t really realize how long it was when I decided to go that way. I mean,
I passed other riders on the road, but it’s kind of lonely. But I just kept riding.”

Mac shook his head, then looked at me. “Do you know that area?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve ridden along Highway 253 a few times. It’s a tough ride through
the hills, but the scenery is beautiful.”

It could actually be treacherous and some areas were indeed desolate, but Mac didn’t
appear ready to take in that much reality. He seemed to be trying to control his breathing.
I couldn’t blame him.

“It was so much fun,” Callie said, sounding younger than she had before. “I like to
ride my bike.”

“Yeah, me, too,” I said, fascinated by her ability to switch from worldly teenager
to happy kid in the span of a sentence or two.

“So, how did you find me?” Mac asked.

“That was the easiest part. When I rode into town, I just went into a store and mentioned
your name and asked directions.” She leaned in closer, as if to share a secret. “Uncle
Mac, are you aware that a bunch of people around here know where you live? Isn’t that
weird for you?”

“Not anymore,” Mac said. “That’s how it is living in a small town.”

She smiled at him. “Do you have a lot of friends?”

“I’m getting to know more and more people and they’re all good folks.”

“That’s so nice.” Her voice was wistful now. “In our neighborhood, nobody really talks
to anybody because we all live behind these really high walls, so you can’t even see
the houses. But here I saw people sitting on their front porches and that looked like
fun, too. I miss seeing you, Uncle Mac, but I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I’m happy about that, too, and I’m glad you’re here.” He held up his phone and wiggled
it. “But I think we’ve procrastinated long enough. I’m going to make the call.”

“Okay.” She bent over and buried her face in Robbie’s scruffy neck, almost as if she
could hide from her mother.

“I hope this goes through,” he muttered, and pressed a button on his phone. He paced
around the kitchen, waiting for the call to go through, and after a few long seconds
he stopped and stood at attention. “Lauren? It’s Mac.”

He paused for a long moment, then said, “Yeah, sorry to wake you up, sis, but it’s
important.” Another pause. “Listen, Callie showed up here a little while ago. She’s
fine, but it looks like she’s going to stay with me for a few days until you get back
to town.”

Callie looked pale now. She stared out at nothing and continued to pet Robbie. I felt
sorry for her and began to wonder where her father was. Neither she nor Mac had mentioned
him.

“School? What about school?” His eyes narrowed in on Callie as he listened to his
sister. “She’s suspended? Ah. Nice of the principal to text you.”

Callie winced but kept her gaze on Robbie, not daring to make eye contact with her
uncle.

Mac held the phone away from his ear and I could hear Callie’s mom yelling from halfway
across the kitchen. Belgium had never seemed closer. Both Mac and Callie looked a
little shell-shocked by now.

“Maybe she can go to school here,” I said.

Mac gaped at me, then suddenly grinned and held up his thumb.

Callie, on the other hand, glowered at me.

I could hear her mother saying something but couldn’t understand the words. Mac nodded.
“Yeah. Her name is Shannon. She’s my contractor. And my landlady.” He winked at me.
“Yeah, she’s suggesting that Callie go to school while she’s here.” Lauren said something,
and Mac replied, “Yeah, it’s a darn good idea. She’s really smart like that.”

There was another long pause while Callie’s mother spoke at length.

“I’ll talk to the school on Monday,” Mac said. “When do you get home? Wow.” He nodded.
“Okay. Be careful. I’ll keep in touch. Bye, sis.”

We were all silent for a few long moments.

“That seemed to go well,” I said, then watched as Mac and Callie began to laugh. “So . . .
it didn’t go well?”

Mac came back around and squeezed my shoulders lightly. “It went as well as could
be expected, I guess. My sister is a force of nature, but she agreed that your idea
is the perfect solution. Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

Callie grumbled.

“Sorry, kiddo,” he said, “but it’s the best way to keep you here. Otherwise, your
mom’ll send Karl up here with the limo and take you back home.”

“I don’t want to go home with Karl,” she whined, sounding a little like a spoiled
brat for the first time.

“Yeah, yeah, you can dial back the attitude,” Mac said easily, pulling out a chair
and sitting down next to his niece. “Karl and Mavis do their best.”

“I know.”

“Look. You can stay here for a while, at least as long as your mom is gone. But if
you’re going to stay, you’ll go to school. That’s the deal.”

“Do you know how long she’ll be gone?” I asked.

Mac shot me a look that said plenty about what he thought of his sister for leaving
a sixteen-year-old girl home alone with “bodyguards.” He finally said, “It’s always
hard for Lauren to gauge how much time these things will take.”

“I can imagine.” And I would try not to judge the woman for making difficult choices.

Callie sighed as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. “A new
school. Where I don’t know anyone. Are you sure that’s necessary, Uncle Mac? Maybe
you could homeschool me.”

Mac snorted, and I couldn’t help laughing. Callie was grinning, too, as if this was
one of those family jokes they’d chuckled over before. It was lovely to see that Callie
had a good sense of humor, just like her uncle. Gallows humor, it seemed to me, but
at least they were laughing.