Dragonfly (23 page)

“I’d be interested to hear her answer to that question,” he said.

“Do you know why she quit?”
If he told me…

He paused for a second and then looked at his desk.

“That’s her business,” he said.

I wasn’t sure how to proceed. Would Nancy want me to pursue this or should I just tell her he might know something? He sat down again.

“I’m surprised you and Jack broke up,” he said, successfully throwing me off my game. “You seemed pretty serious, and I was sure you were the reason he wanted to stay at Fairview.”

It felt as if he’d kicked the chair out from under me. Imagining Jack wanting to stay for me made my throat hurt and killed the defense I was building against him in my mind.

“Jack never asks for much,” he continued. “I figured it didn’t matter for a few months longer.”

“Yes, sir.” I said softly.

“Well, feelings change. It’s smart to be sure you’re where you want to be.” He took a sip of his drink. “Don’t make permanent decisions at your age, Anna.”

“I thought I might love Jack,” I said, wondering why I was telling him this.

He shrugged. “You might also look up one day and realize everything in your life is different. Including your feelings.”

“Did that happen to you?”

His finger circled the top of the crystal tumbler that was now empty on his desk. He looked as if he were considering pouring another. “I had other things on my mind at your age.”

I studied his light brown hair, thinking of Will. “You married Jack’s mom right after high school. I found the announcement in the paper.”

He looked up at me, and there it was again. No mistaking it. It was the same expression I’d seen Julian make a hundred times when he was working on a problem or asking me a question. I knew it so well because it was the thing that drew me to him over and over, regardless of how I tried to push him away.

“Nevermind, I’ve got to go,” I said. “Thanks again.”

I wanted to get back to the paper office and look through the archives. There had to be a clue somewhere about what had happened. Questions I could never ask directly, but that I was now desperate to find the answers to.

Julian was Mr. Kyser’s son. I was sure of it. And that fact could change everything for him. My secret investigation just got a million times more secret.

Chapter 22

When I got back, Nancy was at her desk drumming her pencil. “How’d it go with Kyser,” she asked.

“Not bad. There’s definitely a story there, but I’m not sure how to find it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh!” I realized I’d answered Nancy with the question I’d had in my head. “I meant it was really interesting. He’s got a great story.”

“Write up your notes, and I’ll get one of the reporters to give him a call. Maybe we could give you a dual-byline.”

“Oh my god!”
My first real clip!
“Nancy! Thank you!”

She grinned and gave me a hug, but her face went back to tense.

“What’s wrong?” I said. “How’d it go with Ms. LaSalle?”

“She won’t talk. Said it’s all in the past, and she’s not interested in being a topic of conversation.”

“Did she say why she quit so abruptly?”

“No.”

I scrolled through the features I’d been copying onto the computer. It was so much easier than rifling through old papers in the archives, and I was glad I’d been spending so much time scanning them. Finally I arrived at the photo I’d left with Mr. Kyser. The one that clearly unsettled him. It was at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, and I leaned in close to the computer screen staring at Ms. LaSalle.

“What’re you doing?” Nancy was right behind me.

I jumped and squealed. “Nancy!”

“We were just talking!” she laughed. “What are you sneaking around here doing?”

“I’m not sneaking. Okay, maybe a little, but look at this. Look at Ms. LaSalle. Is she pregnant in this picture?”

Nancy leaned in. “What’s the date on this?”

I looked at the top left corner. She had to be expecting Julian.

“It’s the summer before I was born,” I said. That would be right about his age.

“What’re you getting at, Anna?”

I pulled up another file and started scanning. “It’s not in here. Do you have the obit on Meg Kyser?”

“No, but it’ll probably be around here.” She walked back to the archives room.

“Do you remember when she died?” I asked.

“Well, let’s see she had the three kids, but I think they were babies…”

“That’s right!” I remembered my first conversation with Bill Kyser. He said the twins were three when it happened. My eyes widened. This was taken before she died!

“What’s going on, Anna?”

I was humming now. “I don’t know for sure.”

“What do you think’s going on?” Nancy watched my face, her brows pulled together.

“What if the reason Ms. LaSalle quit painting was because she got pregnant? She never married. What if it had something to do with Julian’s father?”

“Like what?” Nancy said.

“I don’t know.” I couldn’t tell her what I was doing, but it was possible she might inadvertently help me.

Nancy pressed her lips together and leaned against the desk. “It’s an interesting angle, but after talking to her today, it’s not one she’ll discuss.”

“Could I get Julian’s birth certificate?”

“Slow down, Anna. This isn’t a gossip rag. Even if that was her reason, it’s outside the scope of our article.”

“Right,” I quickly backpedaled. “You’re exactly right. Why would anybody need to know that? I’m sorry.”

She smiled and patted my hand. “It’s a good instinct. Being pregnant could’ve been her reason to quit working with Kyser. She was probably keeping some pretty long hours. But I don’t see how a baby would cause her to quit painting. And her son’s a rising artist now. She clearly encouraged him to pursue that. The dots don’t connect.”

“You’re right. I just got excited. It’s an interesting mystery.”

I gathered my things to leave. I didn’t need to see Julian’s birth certificate for my own proof. I’d seen his father’s face this afternoon. But Nancy was right. Julian wouldn’t have caused Ms. LaSalle to quit painting. There had to be another reason. And why was Ms. LaSalle such a recluse now? I wanted so much to find out what had happened. Maybe I could help her. Maybe I could help all of them somehow.

Chapter 23

My birthday fell on a rainy Wednesday, which was perfect for how I felt about it. I was in no mood for a party. In fact, I’d been meticulously avoiding all social events where I might run into Jack or where any couples were engaging in overt displays of affection. I’d even started eating lunch under a tree by myself at school while listening to my iPod or reading a book. Or both.

It was pretty easy to isolate myself at school, since I’d spent most of the semester wrapped up with Lucy and Jack, and now they were both keeping alternate schedules. It wasn’t as depressing as it sounded. Okay, it was pretty depressing, but I was very distracted by my new mystery.

My after-school job consumed all my focus, and anyway, I’d reached the stage where unless people knew you really well, you could sneak birthdays past them. The last bell rang, and I went to my locker eager to gather my books and get to work.

Kids were pushing past me as I spun the lock, and the halls were filled with the usual roar of voices ranging from those hurrying to catch the bus to those staying after for activities. I didn’t look around. Finally, I pulled the door open, and a piece of paper dropped to the floor. I leaned down and picked it up. Something was inside the folded sheet, and when I opened it, I found a large yellow chrysanthemum. Familiar handwriting was on the page.

Smile today. –J.

It was from Julian. He remembered my birthday? I looked around but I didn’t see him anywhere. The halls were clearing as I pressed the flower to my lips and allowed myself to feel all the feelings I’d been holding at bay. I thought of his kiss, his kisses. Him carrying me. My ring. A flood of warmth filled my chest, and I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing he were here. But I had to wait. I had to be smarter than I’d been so far, and I had to give myself time to be ready.

* * *

Gabi would not let me get through a birthday without some form of communication. She called right before dinner, howling out the song in a voice that would scare babies. “Happy birthday to you…”

“Gabi,” I tried to stop the horror.

“Happy birthday to you…”

“Please don’t sing.”

“Okay! So fill me in. What did Mr. Hot Rich Guy give you for your sweet eighteen?”

Ugh.
“You’ve missed a lot. That is completely over.” I pushed through her cries of disbelief and gave her the short version. “We all went to this Halloween hay maze thing, and I got lost and then I wound up kissing Julian. Several times. In a row.”

“Hot make-out session?” she laughed. “Yeah, you did! And I’m not even mad. I’m living vicariously now. So who’s ‘we all’?”

“Me and Jack, Rachel and Brad, Julian and Renee…”

“Renee Barron?”

“Yeah, he’s been doing stuff with her again.”

“Yikes,” I heard Gabi frown. “I think she’s what they call ‘sex on wheels.’”

“More like sex on anything.”

“Reow! Go, Anna!”

“Oh, god, I’m sorry.” I cringed. “That was mean.”

“Don’t apologize to me! She’s definitely a problem.”

“Not my problem. I’m off the dating scene for the duration.” I took a deep breath. “And I’ve got a story that will curl your hair. What would you say if I told you Julian might be Mr. Kyser’s son?”

“I’d say ‘What the hell?!’”

“I just know it, Gab. He’s got to be.” I quickly rehashed the interview in his office, his reactions to the photos, his expression.

“What will you do if you find out it’s true?”

I lay back on the bed, a line piercing my brow. “Nothing, I guess.”

“So why pursue it?”

“I don’t know,” I exhaled, rolling onto my side. “It’s interesting to me? It’s distracting… It helps me forget how bad I feel.”

My friend’s voice was warm. “Hang in there, banana head.”

A little smile touched my lips. Just then I heard my mom calling me for dinner. “I’m still uncovering the details, but I’ll let you know if it gets good.”

“You’d better! And hey, get over yourself and go out with him.”

I paused before hanging up. “What? Who?”

“Julian, you dope.”

“Gabi,” I breathed, shaking my head. “It’s too soon.”

“Too soon? You’ve been friends with Julian two years!”

I rubbed my forehead hard. “That’s part of the problem. I love being his friend. And the other part, well, I’m still not over Jack.”

Fight as I might, I still had the occasional dream of being in his arms, and I still missed how he made me feel.

“Jack, schmack. Julian’s the one.”

“I gotta go,” I said. “The parents demand their birthday time, too.”

I ran downstairs with my thoughts on Julian. If Mr. Kyser were his dad, that would make him and Jack half brothers. Brothers. Could that be my problem? They both shared some gene that pulled me in like a tractor beam?

All I knew is I would not ruin things with Julian. Like Mr. Kyser said, I would wait and be sure of my feelings first.

* * *

The cool thing about having a school-related job was being able to leave during lunch on work errands. On Monday I used my work excuse to run to the satellite courthouse to search through birth certificates. Mary Ott had been the clerk there for years, and before that, she’d taught at Fairview Elementary School, where my mother had attended. When we moved back, she was one of the first people I met, and I knew she wouldn’t mind me poking around in the old files. When I arrived, she was as chatty and friendly as ever.

“Anna Sanders! How’s your mamma?” Mary knew the southern drill.

“Just fine, Mrs. Ott. Did she tell you I’ve been working at the paper in Fairview?” I asked.

“No! That sounds like a lot of fun. Is that why you’re here? Shouldn’t you be at school?” Mrs. Ott smiled at me like I was a misbehaving first grader.

“Oh, it’s OK,” I said. “I’ve got a pass. I need to look through some of the old records. Birth certificates. Can you help me?”

She led me to a room where the walls were lined with filing cabinets. It was dusty and smelled like a library, and each of the long drawers was labeled by the year.

“These are the public records up until we started keeping them on the computer,” she explained. “Older stuff is in the basement or on microfilm. Some things have been sent to the county seat.”

“I bet I can find what I’m looking for,” I said, kneeling in front of a drawer labeled with my birth year. I started in the middle, pulling out the old files. The first one I found was a listing for the sale of an old home with property on Port Hogan Road to Kyser-Brennan equities. They must’ve been buying up as much beachfront property as they could get back then, but Port Hogan Road was on the opposite end of the island from where the Phoenician developments were located. Why would they want something so far away?