Page 13 of Jasmine Street Blues

“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” Anna said, resting one hand on her rounded middle. How far along was she? It would be rude to ask.

“You have to eat sometime,” Olive said. “Come to lunch with us? Anna wants a big salad and chocolate cake.”

“It’s called balance,” Anna explained.

She should say no, get back to work, and keep her distance. She’d learned her lesson, hadn’t she? Keep your distance. Don’t get too comfortable. But damn, some days were so lonely, and she could use something to think about besides dead people. And Mac. “I’d love a salad, but I’ll pass on the chocolate cake.”

“Same,” Olive said. She held out her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. “I have to fit into my wedding dress, after all.”

“You don’t have a dress yet,” Anna said. “Eat cake and buy a larger size, if you have to.”

“Bite your tongue.”

Loran grabbed her purse, joined the other two women, and locked the door behind her. Anna chimed in. “Y’all can worry about your waistlines but since I don’t have one at the moment, I’m having cake.”

It was a warm day, but the place they’d chosen for lunch was just a block away. Loran had grabbed salads there many times, as well as the occasional club sandwich. Maybe lunch with a couple of friends would wipe away the memories that plagued her today.

Friends were dangerous, she knew that. And still…

Olive and Anna weren’t nearly as dangerous as Police Chief Maxwell, with his probing dark eyes and muscles and the questions that would surely come if she were foolish enough to let him get too close.

“I needed to get out of the depot for a while,” Anna said. “We’re closed on Monday too, but I swear, the energy in that place is electric. Colt says they’ve been quiet lately, but I swear, I feel something. I don’t know if they’re wound up by the baby or if knowing the house is almost ready and we’ll be moving soon makes them more… I don’t know…”

Loran hung back a bit. Who were they? Employees? Friends? She could imagine Anna’s mother — who she’d met once as the woman browsed the studio — being wound up, but…

Olive glanced over her shoulder as she nudged Anna’s arm with an easy elbow. “Pregnant women are sensitive to everything, aren’t they?”

Anna kept her gaze straight ahead. “I should be mad at you for that, but you’re not wrong.” The two women ahead of Loran exchanged a meaningful glance. She was on the outside of some private joke. Just as well. Friends were nice, but she couldn’t afford to get too close to anyone, not even these pleasant women.

“Might as well tell her,” Anna said. “So many people already know, she’s bound to hear it from someone eventually.”

“So many know what?” Loran asked.

They stopped on the sidewalk, made a small, tight circle. Olive placed a hand on Loran’s arm. “Okay, don’t think we’re crazy. We’re not, I promise. We also haven’t been drinking.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Colt sees ghosts, and to hear him tell it they’re all over the depot.”

For a second Loran thought I could ask him about… He might know… Could he explain why she did what she did? She quickly dismissed the idea. Olive and Anna might claim not to be crazy, but Colt could be completely off his rocker. He didn’t come off that way, but she couldn’t take what anyone told her at face value.

People were never entirely open about who and what they were.

Worse, asking for help would mean exposing her secret, and she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t ready to leave, didn’t want to pack up and move again. Not yet.

“Wow,” she said with an appropriate amount of enthusiasm. “That’s awesome. I guess.”

Anna laughed. “Anyway, now you know. Let’s eat. I’m starving!”

* * *

In addition to tourists adding to the population of Seawolf Beach in the summertime, kids were out of school. Most of them weren’t a problem. Older kids had summer jobs or balanced beach time with video games. The younger ones were entertained or locked down by their parents. But the ones in middle school, the twelve and thirteen year olds… if there was a problem to be had, they found it.

A few of them had already become regular annoyances. Minor things, for the most part. Unintentional vandalism. Trespassing. Even some shoplifting, which wasn’t so minor. If they didn’t straighten up Mac would be seeing them again in a few years.

At the moment three boys were all but torturing Sue Eldon’s big mutt through her chain link fence. She’d called the station directly, bypassing the county dispatcher, and asked for some help. Zach and Drew had both been busy so Mac headed to her place. The Eldon house wasn’t far from the station. As he pulled to the curb he saw, in the space between houses, three boys armed with sticks — well, two had sticks, one held a baseball bat — banging on the chain link fence while shouting at the barking dog who was doing his best to come through that fence.

He got out of the patrol car and walked that way. The boys were making so much noise they didn’t notice him until he was just a few feet away. The first one to see him screamed “Run!” and they took off. For a few seconds.

Mac shouted, “Stop!”

They did. Even the dog went silent and sat.