So the last lawyer to represent Pamela Larsen had an aunt who just happened to live across from my new apartment? Seems my luck in finding Cainsville came with a price. I supposed I should have expected as much. Fate is capricious. Nothing comes free. And Gabriel Walsh was an irritation I could deal with.
Grace took another bite of her scone and sighed with pleasure. "Damn. You must have made a good impression on Larry if you got him to bake me up a fresh batch."
"You knew...?"
"That you brought me this? Course I did."
"But you thanked--"
"He got it from you. You let him. You need to pay more attention, girl. Especially around that one."
"In other words, keep my distance."
"Never said that. Men like Gabriel have their uses. You just need to keep your eyes open and your hand on your wallet."
Thunder cracked. Lightning split the sky. When I looked up, the clouds had rolled in again.
"Huh, looks like we're getting a storm," she said.
She stood and walked to the door, then waved impatiently at her chair. I folded it and carried it inside just as the downpour started.
Chapter Nineteen
I returned to my apartment only to realize there was nothing for me there. No food, no drink, and most urgently, no cleaning products. So I waited for a break in the rain, then jogged to the grocery store a block over. I spent an hour there. Ten minutes to grab basic foodstuffs. Fifty minutes reading every freaking label in the cleaning supply section to figure out what I needed.
After three hours of scrubbing, I collapsed onto the bed ... only to realize I'd left sheets off my shopping list. I managed to struggle to my feet, considered the likelihood that any shop in town was still open, and fell back onto the bare mattress.
I woke on a rocky plain. Bitter wind whipped my hair into my eyes. A salty mist sprinkled my face, but I couldn't see or hear the ocean, just looked out over an endless dark field of fog and rock and gnarled trees.
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. I was barefoot and dressed only in a thin shift, the wind cutting through it as if it was nothing.
Someone raced past me and I caught a glimpse of a girl with long blond hair before she disappeared into the swirling mist. I took a few tentative steps across the ice-cold rock and damp moss, and I saw her there, still shadowy against the darkness but turned now, watching me. She didn't speak or smile, just waited until I drew close, then ran into the fog again, only to stop and wait until I got closer.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
My voice echoed. She lifted a finger to her lips, then scampered off.
At last I stepped through the fog to see her crouched in the middle of a mist-shrouded circle of misshapen dead trees.
I looked around. Did I know this place?
Familiar yet unfamiliar.
Same with the girl.
I walked over. She was throwing something onto the ground, like jacks. The mist curled around her face, shrouding it.
When she saw me, she nodded solemnly and moved back, as if to give me room. I walked over and bent down. She picked up what looked like a stubby piece of wood and held it out.
"I don't know how to play," I said.
"Yes, you do."
"No, I'm sorry, I--"
"Shhh. Don't wake them."
"Who?"