Necessary Detour (14 page)

She took a deep breath and closed the window. She could only hope they were not just temporarily gone until they rounded up re-enforcements.

“Thank you, Connie. Remember ‘Goldilocks.’”

Nikki hurried out the door. Her ankle hurt, but at least she could put weight on it. Hobbling closer to her house, she heard Elvis barking from inside. When she met Pete on the road, he only slowed his pace and passed her, seemingly in a hurry to get home.

“They’re gone?” Nikki asked.

He spun around to walk backward. “Yes.”

“Thanks. What did you tell them?” She followed him.

“What you told me to.”

“That’s it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Really?” She wasn’t convinced.

“Really.”

Didn’t he want to know who those guys were? Nikki was all but running to keep up with him.

“You have no idea how huge that was for me.” They approached the deck of the log house. “Uh, let me make you dinner tonight to show my thanks.” Nikki meant the whole family.

He turned around with a tender look on his face that frightened her. Then the moment was gone. The look that replaced it was almost exasperation. “What time?”

“Seven?”

“Seven, it is,” he called back as he disappeared inside the house, shaking his head.

If he was FBI hired to watch Nikki, why would he have pulled a gun on her? No, Pete was preoccupied with something in that house. Connie said he wasn’t writing about Nikki or watching her. Hopefully she’d get a feeling for what was happening over there at dinner that night.

****

Pete knew why he’d said yes to Nikki. Being around her was like medicine to his fractured soul. She set something off in him. Knowing he was almost free of this life, he was softening now, melting. The thaw was leaving his weak underside exposed and the concept of Nikki was slowly trickling in, whether he wanted it or not.

The night before, he and Tony had been flipping channels, looking for something to watch, when Goldy’s face flashed on the screen. Pete grabbed the remote from Tony. “Wait a minute.”

“What about the military channel, Pete?” The kid didn’t recognize the woman on the screen.

“Yea, just a minute, sport.” Goldy was on TV, in full costume, makeup and regalia.

Connie walked into the room and Pete considered changing the channel, embarrassed to be caught. “That’s Goldy, right?” she asked.

“Yup.” Pete gulped at the sight of the rock star in that little costume, parading around with her backup dancers. She wore a gold headdress and a very small dress that covered only the illegal parts, with high-heeled black boots that hugged most of her legs. How could she dance in those things?

Connie plunked down next to Tony. “Wow. She is really something, isn’t she?” Connie looked as starstruck as Pete felt.

He didn’t dare comment. Her guitar player, now her ex-husband, had the whole black leather thing going. He looked like the type who’d run off with a teenage girl and not think twice. As the camera panned in to his fingers for the guitar solo, Goldy was barely visible, grinding on him from behind, with one arm around his shoulders. When Burn’s solo ended, Goldy locked lips with him and the crowd cheered.

“Whoops! Maybe we should change the channel?” Connie glanced from the remote to Tony.

Then Goldy broke from Burn, and as she backed up, the guitarist advanced playfully, like he wouldn’t let her leave. She turned, the dancers rushed in and swooped her up above them, carrying her around the stage.

“A love like this

Comes just one time

A love so strong

You gotta hang on

Hang on

Hang on forever,

Forever, forever, forever…”

Pete knew the song. It had been a huge hit two years before, all over the radio, and if he remembered correctly her world tour had been called the Forever Tour. Had she written the song about her husband? Because his love definitely did not last forever. The song ended and Goldy struck a pose. Words flashed on the screen.

“Goldy in Tokyo—The Forever Tour”

Connie broke the spell. “Tony, do you recognize that singer?”

He looked at his mother like she was crazy. “No.”

“That’s our neighbor Nikki.” Connie smiled at the Tony’s open-mouthed, pop-eyed reaction.

Nikki didn’t even have spaghetti in the cupboard and she’d asked the Bayers for a spaghetti dinner. She’d have to use what she had—manicotti. It was too late to go to town for groceries. She’d already blown the authenticity of the meal by using sauce from a jar. This wasn’t a good time to experiment with homemade sauce. Nikki had stowed the jar in the recycling bin to hide the fact Ragu had done most of the work for her. The manicotti was slightly overcooked, as Nikki tried to stuff the cheese mixture into the tubes, cursing her ineptitude in the kitchen.

“Dammed. Why can’t I cook?” she asked Elvis, who waited for something to drop to the floor. “It’s my own fault after twenty years with personal chefs who I ignored until it was time to eat.”

The manicotti flopped around with her efforts. “Dammit, again,” she said. “I don’t have anchovies for the Caesar salad. What was I thinking, Elvis?” The little pug stood by her feet with his red and white checked neck scarf, looking like an Italian waiter. At least to Nikki, he did.

It was only 6:10. Good. She was ahead of schedule.

The table was set, the manicotti in the oven to bake. She’d go change out of her shorts. Salad could be made at the last minute. Elvis almost tripped her in his haste to get ahead on the stairs. “Slow down, Elvis. It’s just the Bayers.” Pete would wear jeans and his amulet necklace. The Yoruba Luck Ring. Connie would wear black jeans and her blue sweater, like always. Every time Nikki saw her, she wore the same thing. Except for the wig. It was off in private, and on when she left the house.

Pulling off her jeans, Nikki jumped into the shower and tried to imagine the conversation they’d have over dinner. “Have you done any fishing here? The ice cream is good at the Double Scoop town. Did you know I’m a famous rock star?”

Nikki dried herself and pulled on a sparkly top, but her reflection looked overdressed for a dinner with neighbors and she switched to jeans and a black V-neck sweater. After slipping into a pair of black velvet mules, she dried and straightened her hair. Hot rollers usually did the trick but Nikki didn’t want to give the evening that kind of attention. Nothing more than what was necessary.

At the last minute, she applied a little eye liner, mascara and clear lip gloss. For reasons she didn’t want to admit, she was trying to look pretty. Understated, but still pretty. This might be the last time she saw the Bayers if she left tomorrow, which was now a definite possibility.

She’d been thinking all day about going. The photographers today probably got some shots of the house and although they were gone now, it was only a matter of time before they returned. After the Bayers went back to the log house, she’d pack her bag.

Nikki had made a list of possible locations that weren’t too far from Quinn. Vancouver, Canada, or one of the islands off the Washington coast would be a good choice if only she knew of a house. Tomorrow, she’d check online to see if anything looked private enough.

Quinn had called earlier to thank her mother for the Yoruba amulet and, in conversation, asked why she was so excited at the prospect of having dinner guests. “They’re just the weird people next door, Mom.”

“I’m not really excited. I just haven’t seen anyone in so long,” Nikki protested.

“If you’re this thrilled about cooking for strange neighbors, I’d say you better come to Seattle to see me.”

“I will, sweetie. Now that I’m pretty sure Pete isn’t writing a book about me or watching me for the FBI, I just feel relieved.”

“You better be careful, Mrs. Nosey Parker.” Quinn had no idea about Pete pulling a gun on her mother earlier.

Seven o’clock came and went.

Seven ten came and went, and Nikki began to wonder if they were actually coming. The Caesar salad was ready, and she turned off the oven to keep the manicotti and garlic bread from overcooking. She changed the music from The Red Hot Chili Peppers to U2 and when she was folding napkins at the table, a faint knock sounded on the back door. Nikki startled and ran to disarm the security system.

On the monitor, Connie stood with a bouquet of wildflowers in her hands, the kind that grew around the lake. Nikki was touched by the gesture and threw open the door.

Connie held the bouquet out, blocking her own face in the porch light. “For you.”

“How nice. Thank you.” Nikki peeked around the flowers to see Connie’s smile.

With a Nintendo in hand, Tony gave her a strange grin as he passed. She could tell a fan when she saw one, and he’d probably just found out she was Goldy. She preferred the Bayers not know, or at least not say anything, but that seemed like an unreal request.

“I’m glad you could come.”

Connie wore black jeans, but instead of the blue sweater, she wore a black blouse with a large crucifix around her neck. Nikki was strangely pleased that her neighbor was treating the evening with a sense of sociability. The wig was back on. Why? She considered snatching it off Connie’s head and saying, “Can I relieve you of this pretense too?”

“Nice house,” Pete said under his breath as they walked down the hall.

“Thank you. I was telling your wife the other day that my ex-husband and I built it, and then we stuffed it with everything we love.”

Coming into the great room, Pete stopped when he saw their reflections in the front windows. Connie blanched to see his reaction.

Nikki was used to trusting the security system in the yard, but, seeing Pete’s face, she was reminded that they weren’t entirely safe from spying eyes. She crossed the room and lowered the blinds to envelope them in the safety and privacy of the room.

“Dinner is almost ready. Would anyone like a drink?” Earlier, she’d retrieved a bottle of wine from the closet stash but all three Bayers requested Sprites.

Tony scanned Nikki’s book shelves, announcing with pleasure when he saw one he liked. “Lord of the Rings. Awesome,” he said. “And Eragon.”

Nikki nodded and handed the boy his Sprite. “They’re my daughter’s books.”

“Tony loves to read.” Pete nodded.

“If you see one you like, feel free to borrow it,” Nikki said.

“This is such a lovely place, almost like a lodge, isn’t it, Pete,” Connie said, before Tony could answer.

Choosing the seat on the couch next to his wife, he nodded, looking around the room.

Nikki retreated to the kitchen and took the manicotti out of the oven. She couldn’t believe she was actually entertaining people. Even though Birch House was built as the haven for the three Burnsides, it was strangely interesting to have guests inside the walls. When she and Burn had finished building the house, they’d moved in all the wonderful things they’d missed from years of living out of hotel suites—comfy furniture, board games, framed photographs, what other families took for granted when they aren’t living amongst a stranger’s choice of furnishings for years on end.

Nikki grabbed the pita chips and dip from the granite countertop. “Are you thinking of buying something on the lake?” she asked.

“Maybe.” Pete glanced at his wife blankly.

“It’s peaceful,” Connie agreed.

The conversation continued awkwardly, until tension heightened when Nikki asked, “Where were you before this?”

All three guests answered in unison. “Tacoma.”

Nikki laughed, unable to help herself. It sounded so ready.

Connie laughed with her.

“What type of work do you do, Nikki?” Pete looked genuinely interested, his eyes searching her face.

“I’m writing the score to a movie, right now. I’m a musician.” Nikki waited for a reaction, but no one commented and she continued. “That’s why I appreciate the peacefulness here at the lake.”

Connie reached for a cracker. “The photographers today were trying to take pictures of you?”

“Yes. Thanks for helping.” She almost burst out laughing again, thinking how comical it was for the four of them to have this stilted conversation without revealing any personal information. Just doling out small bits of nothing that led nowhere. “How’s the computer work going?” Nikki persisted.

Pete was ready with his answer. “Good.”

“Writing a book, I heard.”

His expression didn’t change. “Actually, more like a software manual.”

Pete didn’t ask where she got the information, and Nikki found that odd. Connie and Tony meandered over to a shelf that held framed pictures of her with Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, Fleetwood Mac, and several presidents. Just then the stove timer went off, and Pete jumped out of his chair.

“That’s just the stove, Pete,” she said. “Excuse me.” As she passed him, Nikki whispered, “I hope you didn’t bring your gun to my dinner party.”

He looked defensive. “I have that to protect my family.”

Nikki shot him a look that said she wasn’t buying it and left to put dinner on the table.

Pete directed Connie to sit facing the shrouded window across from him. “And Tony, you sit here.” He definitely called the shots. And they listened.

Nikki placed the manicotti, salad, and garlic bread in front of her guests and sat at the end. “Elvis, go lie down in your bed.” The little dog backed up and found his cushion on the floor.

“This looks delicious, Nikki.” Pete sounded like a regular person, not guarded and jumpy, but a grateful dinner guest.

“Well, I have to admit I’m a beginner cook, so I’m hoping it tastes good.” Nikki passed Connie the basket of garlic bread.