Catching Fireflies (3 page)

“Misty, wait. Let’s talk about this,” he pleaded, not wanting to be one more adult who let her down. She might not be physically ill, but she was clearly deeply disturbed about something. The fact that she’d come to him gave him a responsibility to help in any way he could.

“It’s okay. I knew it was a long shot.” She held his gaze, her expression pleading. “You won’t tell my mom about this, will you? I mean you didn’t really treat me, so it’s not like you’d have to tell her, right?”

J.C. was torn. It was true that there’d been no medical issues discussed, but he wasn’t sure he should promise to keep silent when she was obviously in some kind of distress.

“How about we make a deal?” he said eventually.

Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “What kind of deal?”

“You pick an adult—preferably your mom or dad, but any adult you trust will do—talk to them about what’s going on, and I won’t say anything about this visit.”

She immediately shook her head. “It’s not something I can talk about,” she insisted.

He shrugged off the excuse. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it,” he replied, his gaze unrelenting. “And I want this person to let me know you’ve talked. I don’t need to know what you said. That can be totally confidential, but I want to know you’ve confided in someone who can help.”

To his surprise, the corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly.

“What ever made me think you were going to be easy?” she asked ruefully.

“It’s all the lollipops and teddy bears around here,” he said. “A lot of people mistake me for a softie.”

“Boy, do you have them fooled,” she said, though there was a note of admiration in her tone. “How long do I have before you rat me out?”

He thought it over, weighing the risks of waiting against the value of allowing her to get the help she needed on her own. “Twenty-four hours seems reasonable to me. This time tomorrow.”

“And if you don’t hear from someone by then? What happens? Will alarms go off all over town? Is Chief Rollins going to hunt me down and drag me off to jail?”

He smiled at her. “Nothing that dramatic. Just expect me to drop by your house around dinnertime to have that talk with your folks.” He held her gaze. “So, do we have a deal?”

“I’d rather have that note for school,” she said regretfully, “but, yeah, I guess we have a deal.”

J.C. watched her leave his office and prayed he’d done the right thing. If she’d seemed even a tiny bit depressed, he wouldn’t have given her the leeway to work this out for herself. He’d have been all over it. Misty struck him as a kid who just needed a bit of a shove to solve this problem for herself. And, in his experience, the sense of empowerment that came from that could go a long way toward healing whatever issues a teen might be facing.

He’d just spend the next twenty-four hours praying his instincts in this instance had been right.

2

S
ince he’d sworn off dating, J.C. tended to spend a portion of most evenings at Fit for Anything, the new gym for men that had just opened in town. An hour-long workout before he headed home for dinner constituted what passed for his sorry social life most of the time.

It was a lot easier to pretend working out was a good substitute for dating in this environment than it had been at Dexter’s. Nobody had wanted to spend a minute longer than necessary in that dump. Here, he could even grab a bite to eat before heading home, and since the healthy food selections were supplied by Sullivan’s, one of the region’s best restaurants, they weren’t half bad.

Though it had taken a while because of his working partnership with Bill Townsend—a pariah with some people since his very messy divorce from Maddie a number of years ago—J.C. had eventually become friendly with Cal Maddox, Ronnie Sullivan and a few of the other men involved with the gym. As long as he left Bill out of the conversation, they seemed to get along just fine.

Tonight he found Cal here, just finishing up his own workout.

“You’re late,” Cal noted. “Don’t tell me you finally asked some woman out for coffee and broke the hearts of all the matchmakers in Serenity.”

J.C. chuckled. “Sadly, no. I had an unexpected after-hours visit from a patient.”

Cal immediately looked concerned. “An emergency? Was it a kid I might know?”

Though he wasn’t about to violate Misty’s confidence, he wondered if Cal would have any insights about what might be going on to make her dislike school so much she wanted to quit. “Do you know Misty Dawson?” he asked.

The look on Cal’s face was answer enough.

“You do,” J.C. concluded. “Any idea what’s going on with her?”

“No, but you’re the second person today who’s expressed real concern about her. What did she tell you?” Cal asked, then instantly waved off the question. “Sorry, I know you can’t say anything. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay. Actually, knowing that I’m not the only one who’s worried is reassuring. If enough adults are paying attention, hopefully we’ll figure this out and get things back on track. From everything I know, she’s a bright girl with great potential.”

“Laura Reed, Misty’s English teacher, is all over it,” Cal assured him. “I’m looking into a couple of things myself.”

“Good to know,” J.C. said, relieved. “Has anyone spoken to her parents?”

Cal shook his head. “Laura’s trying to dig a little deeper and figure out what’s going on before she stirs things up by going to either her parents or the principal. Want me to have her give you a call, let you know if she finds out anything?”

“Absolutely,” J.C. said. “And I’ll get back to you or to her, if I come up with any answers.”

Cal nodded. “I know living in a small town can have its drawbacks, but in situations like this, I see all the advantages. People genuinely care. They get involved. It’s a great environment for raising kids.”

J.C. grinned. “So there is a positive side to all that meddling, after all.”

Cal laughed. “That’s the way I see it, anyway.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get home. Maddie’s probably hit a wall and is ready for backup with handling the little kids’ baths by now, and then I have some sleuthing to do with my stepdaughter.”

“Good luck with that,” J.C. said sincerely. He knew better than most what it was like trying to get information from a teenager. From what he’d observed, they were better at protecting their sources than any experienced journalist had ever been.

* * *

Laura had been feeling restless ever since her talk with Cal and Nancy and her failure to track down Misty before school let out. Over time she’d found that the two best solutions for this kind of mood were ice cream or what she liked to think of as shopping therapy. And she had a coupon in her purse for Raylene Rollins’s boutique on Main Street that might satisfy at least one urge. If a shopping splurge didn’t pan out, Wharton’s was just across the town green and had the best hot-fudge sundaes around.

Inside the store, which was known for its smart fashions, she headed straight for the sale rack. On a teacher’s salary, full price was out of the question.

“Looking for something special?” Adelia Hernandez asked her as Laura checked out what was available in a size eight. “Or are you just browsing, hoping for a great deal?”

Laura grinned. “You know me too well, Adelia. I can’t resist a bargain, and I have a coupon from the paper burning a hole in my purse.”

“Then let’s find something to spend it on,” Adelia said eagerly. “A pretty date dress, maybe?”

Laura rolled her eyes. “I can’t even remember the last time I had a date that required anything fancier than jeans.”

Even though she’d been drawn to teaching in a small town much like the one she’d grown up in halfway across the country, she’d suspected the lack of social life would be one of the disadvantages. At the time, fresh out of college and still deeply scarred by her first great love back in high school and its disastrous outcome, having a social life hadn’t really mattered to her. These days, though, she was coming to regret the serious lack of available professional men. The men who asked her out, while perfectly nice, were, for the most part, not intellectually stimulating.

“You’re obviously looking in all the wrong places,” Adelia said, though even as she spoke, her expression turned rueful. “Not that I’d know. I only have one toe into the divorce process. Dating is way, way down the road, somewhere past never, for me.”

“I was sorry to hear about your marriage breaking up,” Laura said carefully, eager to change the subject but not sure if she was being too personal with a woman she knew only casually.

Adelia gave her a wry look. “But not surprised? I know everyone in town was aware that Ernesto was cheating on me, but they were all too polite to say anything.”

“I’m not sure there’s a good way to broach that particular subject,” Laura told her. “What do you say, ‘Hi, how are you? By the way I spotted your husband out with someone else last night.’”

Adelia chuckled. “You’re right. I doubt Emily Post covered anything quite like that in her etiquette books.”

“At least you can laugh about it now,” Laura said approvingly. “That has to be progress.”

“Yeah, on the days when I’m not furious, bitter and resentful, I’m a barrel of laughs,” Adelia said, tempering the remark with a smile. “But the truth is, every day
is
better than the day before. I can thank my kids and this job for keeping me focused on the future, rather than the past. And my attorney has been a godsend. Helen’s not letting Ernesto and his dirtbag lawyer pull anything.”

Laura nodded. “I’ve heard Helen is an amazing ally in a situation like this.”

“The best,” Adelia confirmed as she plucked a dress out of the size-twelve section of the rack. “This is an eight, and it would look fantastic on you. This soft sage-green would be perfect with your coloring. It’ll bring out the green in your eyes and the blond highlights in your hair.”

Laura studied the simple, A-line design of the linen dress. On the hanger it didn’t look like anything special, and she’d never before worn any shade of green. She’d always thought it would make her skin look sallow. “Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully.

“Trust me,” Adelia said. “You’ll thank me the minute you see yourself in the mirror. Go. I’ll keep looking, in case there are more size eights that have been misplaced on the rack.”

Two minutes later, Laura was gazing at herself in the dressing room mirror with astonishment. The dress skimmed over her curves, slimming her hips, caressing her breasts and showing off just the right amount of cleavage with the V-neckline. The sage-green did, indeed, turn her eyes emerald. Her cheeks bloomed with unexpected color.

“Holy cow,” she murmured, just as Adelia arrived with the perfect flowered silk scarf to add a splash of extra sophistication and style.

“Told you so,” Adelia said with a satisfied grin as she adjusted the scarf in various ways to demonstrate the possibilities.

“Could you come to my house and dress me all the time?” Laura asked, only half kidding. She never put outfits together with the pizzazz Adelia had accomplished in minutes. It seemed every time she complimented one of her friends on a new look, the credit always went to Adelia. No wonder Raylene’s store was doing a booming business these days.

“Find yourself a hot date and I’m there,” Adelia promised with a chuckle. “I yearn to live vicariously.”

“I haven’t even looked at the price tag,” Laura lamented. “I’m going to cry if this is beyond my budget.”

“It’s on sale and you have a coupon,” Adelia reminded her. “And who can put a price on looking as smashing as you do?”

“You’re really good,” Laura complimented her as she changed back into her clothes and then followed her to the register. Though she winced at the total, she handed over her credit card with barely a whimper.

She consoled herself with the thought that the shopping excursion had been so successful, she no longer needed that hot fudge sundae. Good thing, since to pay for this, she’d be dining on cereal or peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches for dinner for the next month.

* * *

After years of coaching and teaching at Serenity High School and a good long while being married to Maddie and dealing with stepchildren and their own two little ones, Cal thought he had some pretty finely tuned instincts when it came to those children lying to him as Katie was doing right now. He’d asked her to hang out with him in the kitchen after the dinner dishes had been put into the dishwasher. She’d reluctantly stayed behind.

They were sitting at the kitchen table now, and she was doing her best to avoid looking him in the eye as she skirted every question he’d asked so far.

“You’re being very careful to sidestep what was a direct question,” he told his stepdaughter eventually. “Let me try again. Do you have any idea why Misty is skipping Ms. Reed’s English class?”

“Shouldn’t Ms. Reed be asking Misty that?”

“Believe me, she will. I was just hoping you could fill me in before this whole thing blows up and Misty winds up being suspended. Ms. Reed doesn’t want that. She’s trying to help before Betty Donovan gets involved. You know for a fact that Mrs. Donovan has a zero-tolerance policy for skipping. Didn’t you learn that the hard way all too recently?”

Katie squirmed uncomfortably. “Misty shouldn’t get suspended,” she protested weakly. “Not when there are, what do they call ’em, extenuating circumstances.”

“Oh, why is that?” he asked, wondering at her logic and even more interested in those extenuating circumstances.

Katie looked as if she realized she’d already veered onto dangerous turf. “Come on,” she said with a hint of belligerence clearly meant to cover her mistake. “She’s only missing a class or two, not a whole day or anything.”

Cal regarded her impatiently. “Don’t play dumb, Katie. You know suspension is mandatory for a repeat offense, and apparently Misty has been skipping regularly.”

“But…” she began, then fell silent.

“But what? If there’s a good reason for her skipping class, fill me in.”

Katie’s chin set stubbornly. “I can’t say anything.”

“Because you don’t know or because you’ve been sworn to secrecy?” he pressed.