A Kiss in Winter Page 19

  Caroline’s eyes flew open.

  The Ferris wheel. The football field.

  The scoreboard had been in the background of the September photograph.

  She sat up, planting her feet on the floor. She shoved through piles of prints and papers on her desk and unearthed her calendar.

  Broken Ferris wheel. Bombed scoreboard. Back-to-back months. Coincidence?

  Of course, it had to be. What other explanation was there?

  She flipped through the calendar from back to front and stopped on February. This barn had been vandalized, obscene graffiti and several broken windows. Mick said it had happened in February while Miranda Stockton had been on vacation.

  Picking up the phone, she dialed the police station.

  When the secretary answered, Caroline said, “Chief Marker, please. This is Caroline Rogers.”

  “I’m sorry, the chief’s not available. May I give you his voice mail?”

  “No.” He already thought she was nuts; she wasn’t about to leave a message that might sound like confirmation of her mental deterioration. “When do you expect him to be available?”

  Caroline heard the barrel-chested chief’s deep voice in the background.

  “Not for the rest of the day, I’m afraid.”

  “I see.” She paused. “Thank you.”

  “Have a nice day.”

  Caroline hung up the phone and slipped on her shoes. It was Friday. If she didn’t talk to the chief today, it’d be Monday before she’d have the chance again.

  Twenty minutes later she was standing in front of the secretary. “It’s imperative that I speak to the chief today.” She sat in a chair against the wall. “I’ll just wait until he’s available.”

  Ten minutes later the mayor emerged from the chief’s office. When he was out the door, Caroline said, “I guess that means the chief is free now?”

  The secretary shot her a look. “I’ll check.” Instead of using the intercom, she went into Chief Marker’s office. A minute later she came out and opened the door wider. “You can go in now.” She said it in a voice that bespoke of her power as watchdog over the chief’s time.

  Caroline went in.

  “Good afternoon. What can I do for you, Caroline?”

  “It’s about the scoreboard incident.”

  Leaning back in his chair with the springs straining in protest, he very nearly rolled his eyes. “I have no comments on the investigation at this time.”

  “No suspects, no leads?” she asked pointedly. “I think I can help you out.”

  “The man in the photo?” he said, his voice impatient.

  “I still think he was involved. But I just put a few other pieces together that might shed new light.” She laid her calendar on his desk.

  “Yes, I’ve seen this; it’s very nice.”

  “I think this is the missing link.” She opened the calendar to February. “Miranda Stockton said someone vandalized the barn while she was on vacation last February.”

  He looked at her. “Well, that would be in the county sheriff’s jurisdiction. I don’t know anything about it.”

  “I don’t think she reported it.” Caroline flipped the calendar to August. “The fire department had to rescue my sister and her friend off the Ferris wheel during the fair. The operator said it was sabotage.”

  “Again, sheriff’s jurisdiction. I don’t think anything came of that allegation, however.”

  “And last week, the last week in September…” She turned the page to the photograph of the celebrating Millers and tapped the scoreboard in the background.

  “I admit that’s quite a coincidence,” he said, the skepticism in his face never dimming. “But it has to be just that. What motivation would anyone have to vandalize things in your calendar?”

  She’d been trying to figure that one out all day. “Well, I don’t know. But I do believe it’s more than coincidence.”

  “Stranger things have happened, Caroline. This is just one of those things that occasionally defies the odds.” He got up and picked the calendar up off his desk. “Mind if I keep this?”

  “You need it for the investigation?” Her hopes rose.

  “I didn’t have a chance to get one.” He held it up against his wall. “Looks real good here.”

  Caroline stepped to the side of the desk and took the calendar out of his hand. “They’re still on sale at the Hallmark store. I’m sure they’re discounted by now.”

  As she walked out, she heard him mutter, “Temperamental artists.”

  Macie waited for Caleb by her locker. She had fifteen minutes before volleyball practice. She was tempted to skip practice and spend the time with Caleb. Caroline would never know. But Caleb’s parents practically set a stopwatch to ensure he came straight home after school.

  At least they’d stopped threatening with the military academy.

  Why was everybody making such a big deal about this? Even if they had been having sex—I mean, really, over half the senior class was doing it. In a few months they would all be at college anyhow, doing whatever the hell they wanted.

  She looked down the hall. The crowd was thinning and still no sign of Caleb. If he didn’t get here soon, she’d have to go on to the gym.

  Then she saw him sprint around the corner from the science hall. He didn’t stop running until he bumped right into her, pressing her up against the locker.

  “Mr. McCutchen made me stay late.” With a quick glance to make sure there were no teachers in sight, he kissed her quickly. “God, I miss you.”

  She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him two steps sideways, then back into the recess of the door to the art room. The art teacher left before fifth period on Friday to go to the middle school.

  Wrapping her arms around his waist, she kissed him as if she hadn’t seen him in months. It felt like months. Caroline and the parents could hardly keep them from seeing each other at school, but they’d managed to shut down all other contact for the past week. It was killing her.

  And from the way he was trembling, she realized it was killing him, too.

  She said, “We should just go ahead and do it.”

  His chin was pressed against her forehead. He pulled back and looked at her. “What?”

  “Have sex. We’re being punished for something we’ve never done. Why not just do it?”

  He laughed. “You want to do it right here? ’Cause this is as close as we’ve been to alone all week.”

  “We could work something out.”

  Pressing his lips together, he shook his head. “Fear of getting caught wasn’t the reason I thought we should wait.”

  “Why, then? You said you love me.”

  “I do.” He kissed her nose. “That’s why. I know you haven’t done it before. I have, but it didn’t mean anything.”

  Macie had always assumed Caleb had experience, but hearing it confirmed stirred up both jealousy and curiosity.

  He went on, “With us, I don’t want to hurry and sneak and be ashamed. With us, it means something. It shouldn’t feel like we’re doing something we shouldn’t. I want to treat you right.”

  And I don’t want another girl to be the one you remember when you think of making love.

  “I don’t mind sneaking.” She pressed herself against him, surprised at her own boldness. This wasn’t the least like her. Macie Rogers, queen of doing the right thing, wanted to break the rules—and it was the first time in her memory that she felt she could fly.

  He pushed her away just enough that their bodies no longer touched. “You’re killing me here.”

  She stepped closer again. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” He cupped her face. “My brother is a screwup. Your brother is a screwup. And we’re paying for it. I can’t afford to mess up again—I want to stay here to finish school. I’d die if they sent me away from you. Sooner or later they’ll let up with the Gestapo routine. They can’t keep us locked up forever. Patience.”

  After a kiss tha
t rocked her to her core, he said, “Same time, same place on Monday.” Then he stepped backward into the hallway and left.

  Monday was a lifetime away.

  After a night of tossing and turning, of missing Mick, worrying about Macie and Sam, and trying to figure out what could possibly have made someone vandalize three of the subjects of her calendar, Caroline climbed out of bed more tired than when she crawled in the night before.

  She shuffled into the kitchen to find a pot of coffee ready and Macie with a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her.

  “What time is volleyball practice?” Caroline asked.

  “Eight-thirty. Can I take the van?”

  “When will you be back?”

  “Practice goes until eleven.”

  Caroline poured her coffee and sat down at the table. “I’d planned on going to UK today.”

  “Sam know you’re coming?”

  Caroline looked at her sister. “Not unless you told him.”

  Macie didn’t deny having secret conversations with her brother, but she didn’t spill her guts either; she kept her eyes on her plate and concentrated on her eggs. Caroline didn’t want to delve into Sam’s lingering anger before a full cup of coffee, so she didn’t press.

  “If I drop you off at practice, do you think you can get a ride home?”

  Macie looked up. “I suppose having Caleb pick me up is out of the question.”

  Caroline sighed. “I know we can’t keep you two separated forever. But I want you to understand the gravity of the choices you make. They can affect the rest of your life.”

  “We’re not having sex!” Macie’s fork clattered against her plate where she dropped it.

  “And I believe you.”

  Macie nearly swayed backward in her seat. “What?”

  “If you say you’re not having sex, I believe you.” If only she could feel as sure as she sounded.

  “Then why am I grounded from seeing Caleb except with a babysitter present?”

  “Because you both made some bad choices the other night, and bad choices at your age can lead to disastrous consequences—and I’m not just talking about sex. I want you to learn to think before you act.”

  “So when do you think I’ll have learned my lesson enough to see him?”

  There was just enough of a snotty edge to the question that Caroline’s resolve strengthened. “When you stop speaking to me like a pouting six-year-old.”

  Macie looked like she wanted to say more, but didn’t.

  Caroline picked up her coffee and started to leave the kitchen. “I’ll get ready so I can run you to school.” She looked pointedly at Macie. “Can you find a ride home with one of your teammates?”

  “Yes.” To Macie’s credit, she didn’t deliver any more sass.

  Three hours later, Caroline pulled into a parking space at Sam’s dorm on the University of Kentucky campus. She got out of the car and dialed Sam’s cell phone. He picked up with a groggy, “Yeah.”

  “Well, well, still in bed, sleepyhead?”

  He cleared his throat. “Um, sorta. What time is it?”

  Caroline’s fears of partying all night and ignoring classes and assignments were strengthened. “Noon. You want to go grab some lunch?”

  “You’re here?” Now he sounded wide awake.

  “If you look out your window, you’ll see me waving.” She looked to the third floor and saw the curtains in Sam’s window part. She waved. “Let me in.”

  “My roommate’s still asleep. I’ll get dressed and meet you in the lobby.”

  She couldn’t help wondering if it was evidence of last night’s partying, and not a sleeping roommate, that made him keep her out of his room. Or maybe there was a girl… Oh, shit, they should have had some serious talks about condoms long before now.

  When he got off the elevator he gave her a halfhearted hug.

  “Where do you want to eat?” she asked. She knew her brother—he wouldn’t be clearheaded enough to discuss anything until there was food in his stomach.

  He tipped his head toward the food court. “Right here’s okay with me.”

  “You don’t want to go someplace off campus?” As much as he didn’t want to be here, she thought sure he’d jump at the chance to go anywhere else.

  “Nah.”

  Once they’d gotten their food and settled in across from one another at a table, she said, “So, you want to tell me why you don’t want to talk to me? Is it still because of the night you spent in jail; or because I made you come to school?”

  He took a huge bite of his breakfast burrito. Once he’d swallowed enough of it to talk around it, he said, “I’ve been busy.”

  Caroline put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm. “Not too busy to talk to Macie.”

  “That’s different. She needs me.”

  “And you think I don’t?”

  He shrugged and swallowed. “Macie’s my little sister. Why would you need me? You made it clear you wanted me gone.”

  Her hand fell to the table. “I wanted you to go to college—I didn’t want you gone.”

  He gave a grunt.

  “So,” she said, “was I wrong to make you come? You seem to be having a good time.”

  He looked at her from under his brows. “Did you get a copy of my midterm grades yet?”

  Her stomach sank. “Don’t tell me you’re flunking out.”

  “Guess you’ll have to wait until it comes in the mail.”

  “You’re really not going to tell me?”

  “Nope. You might as well chill. Nobody flunks out at midterm.”

  “Sam, don’t screw up here just to prove a point to me.”

  He threw a wadded-up napkin on the table. “It doesn’t always have to be about you.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  He stood. “See, this is why I don’t want to talk to you. Everything gets all twisted. You’re always so convinced I’ll screw up.”

  “All freshmen have a little trouble adjusting—”

  “I’m not having ‘trouble adjusting.’ I like it here. I like doing what I want, when I want.”

  Just what she was afraid of.

  “If you like it, then you’d better make sure you’re taking care of business—or you’ll be back home before spring.”

  “That’s for me to worry about.”

  Caroline curbed her temper before this turned into a real disaster. “Listen, I really didn’t come here to fight, or to lecture. I just want you to be all right—and I don’t want to lose my little brother.”

  He walked around the table and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and realized how much more like a man he appeared than when she’d left him here.

  He grinned that devilish grin that had melted her heart from the first time she’d laid eyes on him. “Who you callin’ ‘little’?”

  She stood and hugged him. This time he hugged her for real.

  He said, “I am all right. I just need to do this by myself.”

  She left her lunch pretty much untouched. As Sam walked her to her car, he said, “I want to show you something, but you’ll have to drive there.”

  They got in the van and he directed her toward the center of Lexington.

  “There,” he said. “Park there.”

  After they were out of the car, he led her halfway down the block and around to the side of a three-story brick building. The building next to it had been razed for a parking lot. She was just about to ask him why he didn’t have her park in the lot when she saw the side of the building.

  “Oh, my God. Did you do this?” And how did you manage without getting caught?

  There, covering the upper two stories of that scarred brick wall, was a graffiti picture that was clearly Sam’s work. It was amazing and breathtaking and… huge. Being in Lexington, it had the theme of horses and racing; being Sam’s, it was done from a perspective that was uniquely his.

  “Yep, I did,” Sam said proudly. “That’s
why I’ve been so busy. All of my extra hours are spent here. Just finished it last night.”

  “You’re working in the dark?”

  “No. They took away the generator lights today.”

  She looked suspiciously at him. “This obviously isn’t a ‘catch-me-if-you-can’ job. How’d you manage?”

  “There’s a guy who works with the city linking willing property owners with graffiti artists. It’s legal.” He rocked back on his heels and looked up at his masterpiece. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  She put her arm around him as relief mixed with pride. “Yeah, pretty cool.” That pride held a slightly bitter edge of sadness. Sam was coming into his own… without her help.

  As she drove back to Redbud Mill after dropping Sam back at his dorm, the sadness evolved into a deep sense of ineptness. While she’d been watching over Sam like a hawk, he’d repeatedly done the most dangerous, most illegal, most irresponsible things. Now that he was on his own—avoiding contact with her, no less—he’d found a way to do what he loved without breaking the law.

  She had a growing fear that he had been painting and not studying. He’d been deliberately evasive about his grades—no doubt not wanting her to find out he was failing before he showed her his success. Still, it really didn’t matter what the distraction was—partying or painting—flunking out was the same either way.

  Once she had those midterm grades in her hands, she’d have to have a serious talk with Sam about priorities. He still needed guidance, and it was her job to keep him on the right track. She didn’t want to discourage his newfound way of expressing himself within the law, yet he had to keep in mind that his studies came first.