Out of the Shallows
Page 29

“You’re right.” He pulled me into his arms so I was snuggled against him, my head on his chest. “But for now, let’s just enjoy this. I thought I was happy when you decided to give me a second shot… but nothing compares to this.”
“What? Talking nonsense and eating peanut butter?” I teased.
“Exactly.” He kissed the top of my head. “We’re Jake and Charley again. Older but no less immature.”
I giggled and burrowed deeper against him. “Isn’t it awesome.”
Chapter Eleven
Edinburgh was laid out before me. As I looked out over the cityscape from my perch on Arthur’s Seat, hugging my arms around myself against the bracing wind, I felt content. At peace.
The air was so crisp here, fresh, alive in a way I couldn’t explain. I’d never felt more awake.
“Do you miss it?”
Startled, I looked over my shoulder to see Jake walking toward me. “Miss it?” I asked as he came to a stop and took my hand.
He was so warm.
“This.” He nodded to the view. “And this?” He tugged on my hand.
I smiled, confused. “How can I miss it? It’s right here. You’re right here.”
Jake looked at me with his soulful eyes, his countenance too grim for such a beautiful day, such a beautiful moment. “Am I?”
The sadness in him caused me alarm. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned into me. “Open your eyes, Charley.”
“They—”
“For God’s sake, open your eyes!” he yelled and I flinched, closing them instead against his attack.
When I opened them, he was gone.
Edinburgh was gone.
I stumbled, discombobulated. My eyes swept my surroundings, taking in the trees, all the green, and all… the gravestones. I tripped over one, leaning on it to right myself.
The name engraved on the gray stone froze me to the spot.
Andrea Delia Redford.
“No,” I whispered, falling to my knees, my hands rubbing over the letters as if I could make them go away.
“You can’t.”
My head jerked up and I looked at my mother, standing over me. “Mom?” I licked the tears from my lips.
“You can’t make it go away.”
I shook my head. “No. This isn’t real.”
Mom cocked her head in thought and then pointed down the rows of the gravestones. Tears glistened in her eyes. “It feels real.”
I followed her gaze.
A black gravestone with the engraving Charlotte Julianne Redford.
My lips felt numb. “It’s not real.”
The air shifted around me and Mom lowered herself beside me. She had flowers in her hand. She put a few on Andie’s grave and then a few on the one next to it. My eyes flew to the headstone.
Sophia Roberta Brown.
“Grandma?”
Mom nodded. “She understands me.”
“I don’t… I’m so confused.”
Misunderstanding me, Mom gave me a sympathetic smile. “We couldn’t lay you to rest together, sweetie. You and Andie. Not after everything. It would be hypocritical.”
“What?” I gasped. “We’re not dead! We’re not dead!”
Her face clouded over. “I’m sick of this. You have to face up to your mistakes.” She frowned. “What is that noise?”
What noise?
“Do you hear it?” She stood and stamped her foot. “This is a cemetery! What is with that incessant noise?”
“Mom?” I watched her stride away. “Mom?”
I stopped. I could hear it too now. I whirled around, looking for the source. Was that Bastille?
THIS IS THE RHYTHM OF THE NIGHT!
My eyes slammed open in the dark and I gasped for breath.
It took me a moment to come out of the dream and realize what had woken me up—the ringtone on my phone. Lunging across my bed, I whacked my hand off the corner of my bedside table before snatching the glowing phone. I squinted against the blur of sleep-fogged eyes and tensed at the caller ID.
Jake.
Why was Jake calling me at… five in the morning?
Too tired to fight, too unsettled to deal with whatever it was he was planning to throw at me after weeks of radio silence, I ignored his call and rolled back over.
Seconds after it stopped ringing, it started again.
Huffing, I grabbed it back up. This time it was Lowe.
Did Jake really think I was that stupid?
I slammed the phone down and closed my eyes.
It started ringing again.
“Jesus effing Christ,” I hissed and snatched up the phone, ready to decline the call when I noticed the caller ID now said Denver.
Worry instantly shot through me. Denver never called.
“Hello,” I answered, hastily sitting up and leaning over to switch on my lamp.
“Charley, it’s me,” Denver said quietly. “We’re sorry to be calling so late, early, whatever, but we’re looking for Beck.”
Hearing the concern in his voice instantly quadrupled my own. Denver was pretty laid-back. If he was worried, then there was cause for worry. “I haven’t spoken to Beck in weeks,” I told him. “Not since Lowe’s party. Neither has Claud.”
“Are you sure? Charley… Beck’s dad died. And now Beck’s missing.”
“Oh my God.” I closed my eyes, feeling an ache deep in my chest.
From what I’d gathered from Claudia and Jake, Beck’s mom and dad split along time ago. Beck lived with his mom and a stepdad he didn’t get along with, and he visited his father whenever he could. His dad lived not far from where Jake’s parents settled in Chicago. He was a musician who lived off the royalties of a couple of famous radio and TV jingles, but he was a raging alcoholic and not the best role model.
“We tried to call Claudia but she’s not picking up.”
“I’ll check,” I told him softly. “Just give me a second.”
I put on my slippers and robe and hurried out of my room, down the hall to Claudia’s. “Claudia,” I knocked loudly.
The door opened a few seconds later and I was surprised to see her awake and so alert. My eyes drew past to her bed and I stilled at the sight of Beck lying sprawled out across it. He was fast asleep.
Claudia slipped out of the room, and followed me back to mine.
I picked up the phone before she could say anything. “He’s here,” I told Denver.