Dragonfly (25 page)

She simply stared at me, but I could tell by her expression I was right. “I’m not talking about this with you or anyone else,” she said quickly.

“But I don’t understand. Why won’t you be with him?” I followed her to the back of the shop. “I saw you at the hospital. You still love him, too.”

“You need to go. Now. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything to Julian about this.”

“Of course not—I never would.” I met her eyes then, and she looked as much angry as afraid. “I just wish… I wish you would.”

“This conversation is over,” she said.

I nodded, backing slowly away and putting the ring on the counter again before I left. I hadn’t helped anyone, and I’d done just what I’d told Julian I wouldn’t do. I exhaled in frustration. I guessed it was time to drop the whole thing, but I just couldn’t understand being in love with someone and maintaining such a long separation.

Couldn’t Ms. LaSalle move past whatever bad things had happened? It didn’t seem right for her to punish herself or Mr. Kyser. Or Julian for that matter. I didn’t understand, and I wished I knew why.

Chapter 25

The next afternoon at the paper, I decided to spend the day scanning pictures and forget the Kyser story altogether. I did not expect to be called into Mr. Waters’ office the minute I arrived. Nancy was already there, and Mr. Waters was not smiling.

“I got a call from Bill Kyser today saying I’ve got reporters snooping into his private life,” he said. “This is a small-town paper, ladies. Guys like Bill Kyser can put us out of business.”

Nancy spoke up. “I don’t know what he’s all fired up about, Curtis. Anna just asked him a few questions about developing the Phoenicians and the history of the area. Right, Anna?”

They both turned to look at me. My mouth dropped open. I knew what I’d done yesterday had crossed a line, but I didn’t expect this. And I didn’t know what to say now.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Mr. Waters demanded.

I felt my face turning red. I couldn’t even remember what day I’d talked to Mr. Kyser, much less what I’d asked him. It seemed like we’d talked as much about my personal life as his.

“I don’t know, Mr. Waters.” I stammered. “I just asked him about his inspiration, and I had some old pictures I gave him. Some of them had his wife and Ms. LaSalle in them.”

Curtis Waters leaned back in his chair and chewed on his pencil. Nancy pressed her lips together and looked down at the carpet. After a few moments of silence he spoke.

“Sounds like somebody touched a nerve. Only two times people call a paper: when they’re in the wrong and they’re scared we’ll print it, or when we’ve made a mistake and printed something wrong. And we haven’t printed anything yet.”

He rocked in his chair a few times. “So what do you think, Anna?”

My eyes widened. “About what?”

“Think he’s hiding something? Something that matters?”

“I don’t know,” I lied.

“Well, what’s he so upset about?” Mr. Waters growled. “You not talking because you’re dating that little Kyser? What’s it, John? Jack?”

“Jack,” I said. “No, sir. We’re not dating.”

He sat forward. “So tell me what you know. You must’ve uncovered something when you talked to Bill or he wouldn’t be calling me to try and put a lid on it.”

“I really don’t know. I mean, I don’t have anything definite, and I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” I rambled.

“Promised who? Kyser?”

I looked up at him for the first time since our meeting began. “Mr. Waters, I can’t tell you anything else about it.”

Silence again. Then he nodded.

“All right,” he snapped. “But your job in this office is to assist in the newsroom. If you want to go off and play Miss Investigative Reporter, that’s fine. Good luck to you. But when you start pestering the most powerful man in town and don’t let your editor and publisher in on it, I can’t cover your ass.”

I looked down again.
I will not cry.
“Yes, sir.”

Nancy tried to rescue me. “Curtis, I think Anna might have gotten a little excited about some of the archive materials. Some of the old pictures with Kyser and Alex LaSalle.”

Mr. Waters thought a few moments. “What’s so exciting about that? Everybody knows those two worked together. Why would that warrant an angry call?”

He paused again, then without looking at me, he said, “Monitor it, Nan, and if you uncover anything, let me know. And if this student intern thing isn’t working out, well, let me know about that too.”

He swiveled his chair around and we were dismissed.

We crossed the newsroom in silence. My insides were like Jell-O, and I wanted to cry at the thought he might fire me. I loved my job here. I needed it for college, and for now, it was all I had keeping me going. When we reached Nancy’s office, she pulled me inside.

“What did you do?” she said quietly.

“Nothing!” I tried to keep calm. I wasn’t fired yet.

“You did something,” Nancy insisted.

I closed my eyes and inhaled. “I went to see Ms. LaSalle yesterday. I thought I could casually talk to her about her art and stuff and maybe help you.”

“And?”

“I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but we got on the subject of Mr. Kyser, and I might’ve said something about him being in love with her.”

Nancy stood and shut her door. “Did he tell you that?”

“No, but it’s so obvious.”

“Obvious in what way?” She sat behind her desk, and the look on her face boosted my confidence.

I scooted forward in my chair. “Remember when Brad and Julian were in that accident, and Julian was in the hospital?”

“Oh, yeah,” Nancy nodded. “The quarterback miraculously escaped without a scratch.”

“But Julian didn’t. He lost consciousness and had to stay overnight. I was there, and at one point, so was Bill Kyser. And I walked in on them. He was holding Ms. LaSalle in his arms, and I heard him say something about letting him take care of this. Like he was talking about the bills.”

“The bills?” Nancy frowned. “What could that mean?”

“I don’t know, but it must mean something.”

We were quiet for a second.

“Just watch it,” Nancy said. “I like you, Anna. You’ve been a big help to me, and I’d hate to lose you over this.”

I nodded and left Nancy’s office. My fear had slowly turned into anger. I replayed the scene in my head, and I couldn’t remember asking a single personal question when I was in Mr. Kyser’s office. I couldn’t believe he’d call and get me in trouble like that. Getting fired from my one internship would kill my scholarship dreams, and there would be no way I could list it on my transcript. I wanted to go over and confront him about it, and the more I thought about it, the more determined I became.

I left Nancy a note saying I had to run an errand and drove to the Phoenician offices. Stepping off the elevator, I stopped again at the receptionist’s desk.

“I was hoping I could catch Mr. Kyser,” I said. “It’s Anna Sanders from the paper again?”

“He’s already gone for the day, Miss Sanders,” the lady smiled.

“Was he going home?”

“I have no idea what Mr. Kyser does when he leaves here.”

“Right.”

I got back in the elevator, and as I rode down the 14 floors, I tried to decide what to do. I could drive to their house. But what if I saw Jack again?

I couldn’t let that stop me. I was going to get to the bottom of this, and I was doing it now.

* * *

It’d been weeks since I’d been to the enormous home on Peninsula Avenue, and I still felt as intimidated as ever pulling into the driveway. The Jeep was there, and my stomach clenched at the sight. The Audi was also there. This was a crazy idea. What had I been thinking? Did I actually plan to confront Mr. Kyser about getting me in trouble? I must’ve been suffering from temporary insanity.

I was just about to restart the car when the front door opened, and Jack walked out. He was wearing jeans and a grey tee, and I could see the lines of his shoulders through the thin cotton fabric. Gorgeous. My lips remembered touching that skin. I could still taste it. I put my head on the steering wheel and peeked at him through the space. It was too late to run, and my eyes followed him as he came closer and tapped on the glass.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked as I lowered the window.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Lucy’s down at Months Bay. Dad’s inside…”

“I should go,” I said.

“Hang on,” he lifted the handle to open the door and helped me out. “Take a walk with me?”

My brain was screaming no, but my mouth said yes. I got out and followed him down the driveway and out to the beach. I had no idea what was coming, all I knew was something sick inside me wanted to find out.

He stopped and turned to me, the wind pushing his hair around his face. My fingers itched to touch it, slide it off his forehead.

“I’ve been thinking about you since yesterday.” He looked down before speaking again. “I’ve had something I wanted to tell you for a while. Since Jesse’s. That night. But I didn’t know if I wanted to say it out loud.”

My cheeks grew hot. I remembered the night he was talking about. It was the night he’d wanted to sleep with me. “Okay?”

“Being with you was more than I expected,” he said. “And it’s possible… I mean, I was thinking it would be very easy for me to fall for you.”

“I don’t understand. Are you saying…?”

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Oh.” My throat grew painfully tight.

“I mean, I feel these things, but you’re just so young. And there’s all my shit—”

“I’m eighteen now,” I interrupted, thinking of my sad little birthday.

“I didn’t know… Happy birthday.”

I nodded, looking down. “It’s okay. I didn’t really feel like a party.”

“Anna.” He exhaled and looked away. “I’m finished with school. That’s why I was there yesterday. I took my last exam and in two weeks, I’m moving to New Orleans. I’ll focus on college, I’ll be working with Will… I won’t have a lot of time.”

I couldn’t speak. My insides felt dead. This was it. He was leaving, and after all the time I’d spent doing everything in my power to forget about him, I still wanted to cry at his words, hearing him say it.

“It doesn’t matter, I guess.” He exhaled and looked into the wind. “I just didn’t want you to think it didn’t mean anything to me.”

We were standing just steps apart, and my hand instinctively rose to touch his cheek. It was scratchy. A little stubble. “I know. You said it wasn’t a good idea.”

“But you kept talking about books.” He stepped back and smiled. “I told you I have a thing for librarians.”

“You hated every book we read.”

He passed his hand over his cheek where I’d just touched him, and my heart ached. I wondered if this was the last time I’d see him, the last memory I’d have of us together.

“It really is for the best,” he said.

“You always say that.” I crossed my arms at my waist and turned to head back to the house. I felt a light touch on my shoulder and looked back. He took a quick step forward and kissed my forehead, right at my hairline.

“Goodbye, Anna. Take care of yourself.”

My chest tightened, but I didn’t want to cry in front of him. I blinked a little smile and nodded. “Good luck with college.”

I didn’t want to talk to his dad anymore. I couldn’t care about that right now. Before I climbed into my car, I looked back and saw Jack had followed me. He was standing in the doorway, wearing the same expression as that very first night. I pulled the door closed and drove away, pain knotted in my chest.

At home I went inside, walked straight to my room, closed my door and sat on my bed. I couldn’t tell how many minutes passed as I stared blankly at the wall. I could only think one thing: It was over.

My insides were completely still.

Finally, I got up and washed my face, changed into my pajamas, and went back to my bed. I lay on my side for several minutes staring at the wall. I didn’t know what to do to make the tears start. I was ready for the gut-wrenching sobs to begin, but my emotions wouldn’t cooperate. My feelings never acted right. I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling for a long time.

* * *

Sleep must have come, because the next time I opened my eyes it was daylight. Gabi was texting me about the annual Key West marathon and demanding to know the latest news on the formerly secret mystery.

I rolled onto my stomach and sent back a message describing how I’d almost gotten fired. She texted a rant about the suppression of information, and I defended Nancy at least, explaining how she’d given me the assignment to interview Jack’s dad.

How did that go? Were your knees knocking?
she texted back.

Practically. Had to bring a recorder.
I typed, and then I gasped. “Oh my god!” I whispered. Just as fast I typed that I had to go.