Page 96 of Need You
“Hey”—Boden pulled him aside, away from prying eyes and ears—“you hearing any weird rumors about Pond?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know exactly, just snatches of conversation from a few council members who were in having lunch on Friday. What got my attention was they stopped talking as soon as they saw me hovering. That doesn’t usually happen to bartenders.... There’s an unspoken privilege. We’re lawyers and therapists, rolled into one.”
Colt remembered something Ben had alluded to and wondered if it had anything to do with what Boden had heard.
“My sense was that they were looking into something,” Boden continued. “I’m speculating that it may have had something to do with you, but I didn’t hear your name mentioned. I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”
Colt didn’t say anything. It didn’t seem right to tell the local barkeep to spy on city council members, but knowing Boden, he’d have Colt’s back regardless. His food came out of the kitchen and he left, tempted to call Rita and do some digging, but rejected the idea. It was unfair to put Rita on the spot and would make him sound paranoid. Screw Pond.
He pulled his truck into the garage. Tomorrow he worked and would be driving the cruiser. Besides, Delaney had taken the easement spot. Again, he felt crappy about his shitty behavior back at the store, though it probably hadn’t bothered her. He figured she’d just been scratching an itch with him anyway. What could she possibly want with a small-town cop who was about to lose his job?
He unpacked his burger and fries, found an AleSmith Speedway Stout hiding in the back of his fridge, and ate in front of the TV. A few times he gazed out the window at Delaney’s second story and noted the light on in her studio. She had the shade up and the window open. There was nothing good on television, just old movies and a repeat of a Giants game he’d already seen. He threw away his wrappers and went upstairs to get his guitar.
Back in the living room his fingers automatically began strumming “Galway Girl.” Halfway through the song his conscience got the better of him. He walked over to Delaney’s and rang the bell.
The sun had started to set and reds and blues streaked the clear mountain sky like paintbrush strokes. There was nothing like the Sierra in summer. All puffy clouds, white-capped peaks, and cascading waterfalls from the melted snow. The smell of pine thick in the air and carpets of freshly bloomed Tehachapi tarweed signaling that the season was nearly over.
It took so long for her to answer the door that Colt had started to walk away.
“Hi,” she said, leaning against the jam.
He felt a jolt in his chest, like his engine had just been jump-started. “Want to go for a drive ... look at the wildflowers?” It would be dark in less than an hour and he sounded like an imbecile.
“Now?”
He lifted his shoulders as if to say why not?
“Okay.” She sounded hesitant.
“I’ll get my truck.” He didn’t want to give her a chance to change her mind and took off for his house to get his keys.
By the time he pulled down the driveway, she’d slung a handbag over her shoulder and a light jacket over her arm. He leaned across the truck cab and opened the passenger door. God, he was a masochist. Hadn’t he learned from his last mistake?
He headed for the Arbuckle Trail, a meandering country road right out of town where Garner Adventure led nature tours. A viewing point offered sweeping vistas of the Glory River Valley and the surrounding Sierra mountains. He parked in the small lot and shut off the ignition. There was no one else there and for a moment he stared off into the distance.
“I’m sorry about before at the grocery store,” he finally said. “I like you, Delaney. But you’re leaving and . . .”
“And you don’t do long distance.”
No, once she left, she wouldn’t do small town. There’d be no place for him in her big-city world. “It doesn’t work.”
“It seems a bit premature in our relationship to be worried about it, don’t you think?” she said.
“So we continue to sleep together and hope that by the time you go we’re bored with each other, is that what you’re proposing?” Because it was a piss-poor idea.
“I’m proposing that we see where it goes,” she replied.
He turned to look at her. “I guess I’m a nice distraction.”
She reeled back as if he’d slapped her. “Do you know how insulting that is? I’m not Lisa. The woman clearly did a number on you, but Robert did one on me and I’m still willing to try again ... find the right person.”
“What did he do to you that was so terrible?”
“You mean in addition to stealing my name?”
Colt understood the violation of that more than she could imagine. “Lisa stole my song.” He couldn’t believe he’d just blurted that out.
