Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,67

store through the back door.

Under normal circumstances, I would have gone for a long, soothing kayak trip on the Oconomowoc River tonight after work, but these weren’t common times. Besides, I had no floatable transportation.

After careful consideration, I rejected the idea of sharing my recent thoughts with Johnny Jay until I had more to go on. Instead, I called the police department to find out when I’d get my kayak back. I’d already decided to trade it in. I’d never be able to use it again without seeing Faye’s dead, staring eyes or some other unpleasant images.

No one at the cop shop could give me an answer. They said they’d call when it was released.

Ray’s date offer was on my mind. Not in the let’s-give-it-a-try way, because Ray has never been on my list of potentials and never would be. His sitting in my backyard had been almost too much personal closeness for me.

But there were a few things I really missed as a single, unattached woman with no current prospects. They were:• Knowing I had plans for a Friday night, even if it was something simple like a burger at Stu’s.

• Not having to think about how everybody else seemed to be coupled up. I’d never noticed how many lovers held hands until I was alone and didn’t have a hand to hold.

• Having a warm body to cuddle with while watching movies on a rainy day.

• Mainly the human contact—a hug, light fingers running up and down my arm, a foot massage, naked contact with someone special.

That last bullet point was part of my ongoing romance fantasy. The special someone part, not just the naked part.

I thought about what Holly said as she left the store, that Hunter had called twice looking for me. I considered returning his call but I still suffered from total embarrassment and didn’t have anything to say to him. I was done apologizing to other people for the day.

I called Holly instead.

“I’m sort of in the middle of things,” she said, quietly.

“It’s only four o’clock.”

“Love is timeless.”

“One quick question, then. Why did Hunter and I break up in high school?”

“Isn’t that something you should already know?”

“I can’t remember. Everything about the man screams

‘perfect,’ but if that’s true, why did we split up? I’m drawing a complete blank.”

“You dumped him.”

“I did?”

“You said he was too small-townish, that you wanted to see the world, and you were leaving the bumpkins behind.”

“I said that?”

“Yup. You broke his heart.”

Jeez!

“Did you return his phone call?” Holly asked.

“Not yet.”

“He said it was important. Don’t forget.”

After we hung up, I thought about my youthful need to get away from Moraine. Not that I ended up traveling the entire world. Far from it. I only made it to Milwaukee, forty miles down the superhighway, but compared to my hometown of Moraine, Milwaukee was the world.

What would have happened to my life if I hadn’t left Moraine? If I hadn’t met Clay in Milwaukee and married him? If Hunter and I had stayed together?

Analyzing the past is a dangerous, slippery slope leading into quicksand, so after I closed the store and went home, I stopped in the garden, pulled a bunch of fresh red beets, and spent the evening in the kitchen, creating my special version of beet soup, which would go into this month’s newsletter. I added ginger this time for a walk on the wild side.

Twenty-seven

By early the next morning, I couldn’t ignore a growing feeling of unease about Moraine’s two recent deaths. The little voice in my head was getting louder, tapping on the inside of my cranium like it was trying to get my attention. It didn’t help matters that I’d dreamed about Manny and Faye right before I woke up.

In my bizarre dream, Manny and Faye were walking down Main Street together. And I mean really together, like sharing the same body. They rotated in and out of the dream sequence, first Manny’s face and body, then Faye’s. They kept on walking, not uttering a single word, and somehow I knew they had come for me.

That’s all I remember after waking up with tears on my face.

The same voice insisted that Manny and Faye’s deaths were linked. Too many coincidences were stacking up. They had both died within the same few days, in the same town, both under unusual circumstances.

And that same little voice in my head told me that Clay was innocent. Not innocent of most things, as I know all too intimately. In fact they