Jenna gripped the edge of the table. “So you think Caydance and Zoey are good examples?”
“They seem like nice girls.”
“Do they. Hmm.”
“And Madison in particular. She’s a straight-A student.”
“So let me get this straight. You want me to hang out with Caydance and Zoey and Madison because they’re popular and straight-A students, and you don’t want me to hang out with Natalie because her parents are weird.”
“That’s not what your mother is saying,” Damien said, shooting Kay a look that said
stop talking
. “You’ve always chosen your friends wisely. We don’t question that at all. I think what your mother is trying to say is that if Natalie becomes a bad influence, think twice about hanging out with her.”
Jenna took in a deep breath, looking the slightest bit relieved. “May I be excused now?”
Kay started to stop her but Damien said, “Of course. I’ll get the ice cream out later.”
“Yum. Ice cream. That’s all I need, more fat on my hips,” Jenna growled, throwing her napkin onto the table. She disappeared up the stairs.
“Can I have her pork chop?” Hunter asked.
Damien scooted the plate toward him but stared at Kay. “What was that all about?”
“What? I’m just trying to figure out who she’s hanging out with.”
“It seemed like you already had an opinion about whom that should be.”
“Don’t give me the third degree on this. I happen to know the mothers of those girls, and it’s better for us if we know the parents of the girls she’s hanging out with.”
“She doesn’t seem to be a big fan,” Damien said, continuing with his meal.
“Well, sometimes at this age they don’t know what’s best. Can’t you see what’s happening with her? Didn’t you see her shirt tonight? Papier-mâché thin.”
“You know Jenna. She’s never been drawn to the most popular girls. Even when she was younger, she was able to choose quality over quantity. I think we should trust her on this one.”
Kay looked down, everything on her plate suddenly unappetizing. “She just can’t see . . .”
“See what?”
The doorbell rang and Damien scooted his chair back. “I’ll get it.”
Kay watched him go around the corner to the door, then looked at Hunter.
But Hunter didn’t look back. “May I be excused?” he asked and didn’t wait for an answer. Before she knew it, she was totally alone.
The table, overcrowded with dishes and plates of uneaten food, caused her to push away and leave the room. She wandered to the office, where a bright screen saver of a rolling hillside greeted her. With one click she was on the Internet. Ten seconds later, she was immersed in a dark world of insinuation and accusation, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
She searched for anything that could be about her.
***
Damien smelled her before he even opened the door. That was some kind of dousing to be able to instantly kill the smell of pan-seared pork chops. He braced himself for the overwhelming scent of jasmine and the intrusive eyes that would undoubtedly focus on him.
He’d once complained to Frank that Angela wore too much perfume. He made that mistake only once.
Swinging open the door, he feigned surprise while managing to say, “Angela!” and hold his breath. “What are you doing here?” He stepped out onto the porch for some fresh air and privacy. He didn’t want Kay involved in this conversation, whatever conversation it might be. When Angela dumped Frank, Kay remained friends with her but not for long. They got into a fight and hadn’t spoken since. To this day, Kay wouldn’t talk about it or her again. Damien never even knew what the fight was about.
His nose twitched, fighting off a sneeze. He turned a little toward the breeze.
“I want to talk to you.” Her voice was low, breathy.
“I’m here. What can I do for you?”
“It’s about Frank.”
“I figured it was.”
“You know he filed a missing person report on me, don’t you?”
“I haven’t talked to Frank today.”
“Surprising. I thought you two were attached at the hip. And also, you went with him.”
“I don’t know what the report was about. Honestly I don’t really care. The thing is—the thing you’ve never understood—is that Frank loves you and will never stop loving you. He does crazy things because of his love for you. And his love has been tested in a variety of different ways. It’s still holding.”
“Don’t you dare bring up the affair.”
“I didn’t say a word about it.”
“A lot of people blame me for that. But nobody knows what it was like. Frank was not an easy person to live with.”
“I can only imagine.”
Angela kept her eyes locked on Damien’s, stepping forward. “I’ve put up with a lot from that man, but he’s crossed the line now. And I’m not talking about the ridiculous missing person report he filed on me.”
“Okay . . .” The muscles in his shoulders began seizing up. He didn’t like talking about Frank, not in this way, where all his vulnerabilities and shortcomings were exposed. That tended to happen a lot when Angela was involved, but Damien never questioned it to Frank. Daresay a bad word about Angela, and that was the permanent end to the friendship.
Again, she stepped forward, backing him toward his front door. Not only was he drowning in the scent of jasmine, but he was also now suffocating from lack of personal space. He had nowhere to go. He blinked rapidly as if a fly buzzed near his face.
“And I know something,” Angela said, her voice lowering again. “I know that you don’t like to hear that Frank isn’t the perfect guy. Nobody likes to hear that. But you have to hear this.”
“First of all, I know Frank’s not perfect. None of us are. Nobody ever said Frank was perfect.”
“That’s the thing that always got under my skin,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Despite the immense personal failings of this guy, nobody was more liked than Frank Merret. The guy has the social skills and the self-awareness of a baboon, yet most people think the world of him.”
“That’s because he’s a good guy. Something you could never see about him. Despite all his flaws, at the end of the day, he’d do anything for anybody. And he’d do more than anything, above and beyond, for you.”
It seemed whatever words Angela was about to speak halted at the tip of her tongue. She stared at her feet for a moment, her fingers twisting around her lips and her chin, scratching her skin as if she were attempting to fend off whatever it was she thought she needed to say.
She finally looked up, a half-baked resolve set in her eyes. She didn’t look directly at Damien. Her gaze shifted to the left to the point that Damien wanted to lean over into her line of sight. “I’m seeing someone,” she said.
“All right. What does that have to do with me?”
“We’re getting serious. Very serious.”
“Good for you. You’re afraid this is going to upset Frank? He’s been down this road a time or ten.”
Angela scowled. “You’re painting me like I’m a . . . Maybe this was a mistake. I came over because I figured Kay wouldn’t answer the phone if she saw it was me calling.” She took a few steps back.
Damien drew in a big breath that probably sounded like a heavy sigh, at least judging from the sour expression on her face. “I’m just saying that Frank cares for you and whatever he may or may not be doing all stems from his feelings for you.”
“Does that include listening to my private conversations?” Angela folded her arms.
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s listening to me. Listening to my private conversations.”
Damien shook his head, still not understanding.
“There’s a Web site called—”
“Listen to Yourself.”
“He told you!”
“He told me about it, but Frank’s not the one doing this.”
“Oh, really? Already defending him.”
“What makes you think it’s Frank?”
“Because a conversation I had with the man I’m seeing was posted on there.” Suddenly the harshness in her voice was gone.
“I know about this Web site. Lots and lots of conversations from the town have been recorded and posted.”
“Yes, well, the only one that matters to me is mine.”
“So what does this have to do with Frank?”
“I caught him. He was behind the house near the sidewalk, peeking over the fence, on the same day that I had that conversation.”
“You don’t have a fence.”
Angela bit her lip. “It wasn’t at my apartment. I was with the man I’m seeing. At his house. Frank must’ve followed me there. And I don’t know how he listened to what was being said, but what’s on that Web site—” she covered her mouth for a moment as if the words were too hard to say—“is exactly what I said.” A tear dripped down her cheek, desperation blowing through a cloud of what looked like shame. “And now I’m afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Of Frank. I’m afraid of what he might do. The conversation is about Frank.”
“Let me assure you: Frank is not behind this Web site. But even if he was, why are you afraid? Frank would never hurt you in any way, besides possibly being a very big annoyance in your life. He’s harmless.”
“Sometimes harmless people who have been harmed become harmful.” Something in her voice made Damien realize this wasn’t an act. She was fearful.
“I’ll talk to him,” Damien said.
“He listens to you.”
“Yeah. He listens. Rarely does he obey, though.” Damien offered a conciliatory smile. “Don’t worry, okay?”
“I’m not worried. I’m contacting my attorney. And if he does it again, any of it, I’m going to sue him. You can mention that if you want.” Angela marched down the steps of the porch, all the way down the sidewalk and to her car, where she flung open the door, got in, and peeled out.
12
“All I’m saying is that you need to watch yourself around that woman. I know Frank can’t see a thing wrong with her, but I’m telling you, she’s no good.” Kay furiously scrubbed a pan she held over the sink.
Damien had barely walked in the door. “With your history with Angela . . . I’m not sure you’re the best person to judge the situation.”
Kay shot him a harsh but agreeing look.
“Trust me. You have nothing to worry about. The day I smelled her was the day I became a hater of all things jasmine. Thanks for using personal scent self-control.”
“What’d she want?”
Damien chose his words carefully. If Frank was involved with this, he didn’t want things getting around. “Frank filed a missing person report. Turns out she was just over at her new boyfriend’s.”
“Shocking.”
“I think I better go visit Frank tonight, though. You okay with that?”
“Oh, sure. Leave me alone with two kids that hate my guts.”
Damien moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “They don’t hate you. They just hate life right now.”
“Why? They have a perfectly good life.”
“Teenagers never think they have a perfectly good life. That is, until they get out on their own and nobody’s making them pork chops and doing their laundry.” He pecked her on the cheek. “Don’t let it get you down. We knew this day was coming.”
“If we can get through this year without Jenna beating somebody to a bloody pulp, I’ll count that as a success. I thought boys were supposed to be the ones duking it out on the playground.”
Damien walked upstairs to Hunter’s room and gave a hearty knock without flinging the door open this time. His heart couldn’t take another awkward moment.
“Come in.”
Even with the invitation, he opened the door slowly. “Hey, buddy.”
“Hey, Dad.” He didn’t look up from the computer. His fingers were flying over the keyboard.
“Listen, I know we were going to do some checking on that Web site together tonight, but something’s come up. I’ve got to go talk with Frank.”
Hunter’s hands stopped and he turned. “About what?”
“Just grown-up stuff.” Damien tried to read Hunter’s expression. It was probably disappointment. That was the default expression these days. “But tomorrow night, let’s sit down and we’ll see what we can find out about the Web site and—”
“I already did.” He turned the computer monitor to face Damien. “Whoever is doing this knows how to not get caught. Usually the IP information is easy to find, but it’s locked out. Everything is locked out. See?” He pointed to the screen.
Damien moved closer. “Yeah. Looks, um, complicated.”
“Whoever is doing this doesn’t want to be found; that’s for sure. There’s no contact information anywhere on the site. And digging deeper, there are rabbit trails everywhere, leading to nowhere.”
“Huh.” Damien paused. He realized before he went to talk to Frank, he probably should have a good idea of what Angela was talking about. But should he bring Hunter into this? “Can you pull up the Web site again? I want to see something.”
“Sure.” A few fast keystrokes and they were at the site.
“You been following this?”
Hunter shrugged. “When I can.”
“May I?” Damien said, gesturing to the chair. Hunter got up and Damien sat down. Using the mouse, he scrolled down, trying to read the various conversations. He found himself lingering on each one, wondering who said it, wondering about whom it was said. This was brutal and tantalizing, like a traffic accident you couldn’t keep your eyes off of. He scrolled down some more. Damien stopped, reading a snippet of a conversation that seemed like it could be about Frank.
Hunter leaned over his shoulder and read out loud.
“I know! I can’t believe it! He’s such a moron. No . . . no! I mean it. Don’t do anything . . . because, trust me, he’s a maniac. He’ll make your life miserable beyond comprehension. You’ll pack up and move to Alaska. . . . No, I’m not overreacting! Listen to me. Just shut up and lay low. I’ll handle this. Do not get involved.”
“Wow,” Hunter said.
Damien rolled the chair back and stood up. “I’ve got to go. I need to talk to Frank.”
“About this?”
“I can’t really discuss it right now.”
Hunter cast him a wounded look. “I’m not a baby, you know.”