Second Sight (16 page)

The ick factor has just reached an all-time
high, and while I’m okay with Jimmie, I’m not sure I’ll ever be
okay with Theresa. It’s not that I begrudge Jimmie getting a life.
It just seems like they fell madly in love so quickly it’s
unnatural.

I shake my head. “It looks like you and
Theresa are doing just fine without a third wheel.” I tug the door
open. “But I’ll be back in time for dinner. Promise.”

For a second he wavers, and I think I see the
old Jimmie surface in his eyes, but then his gaze darts to Theresa,
and I’ve lost him again. To her. This is too damned weird for
me.

“
All right,” he finally
agrees. “Just be careful, Lizzie. It may be a small town, but that
doesn’t mean there aren’t a lot of freaks running
around.”

“
Don’t worry,” I retort,
opening the door. “I think where I’m going, all the freaks are
already dead.” Without waiting for a response, I slip out the door,
quickening my steps so I can get away from this madness as soon as
possible. I’m not sure what is going on right now. All I know is no
one I know is acting like they should, and it makes me tired. If
Lev were here….

But he isn’t. And he never will be again. My
jaw clenches with that thought, and my shoulders stiffen. God, I
miss him. I try to shake off that thought as I climb into the Jeep
and start the engine, grateful to feel the wind soon rippling
through my hair. More than once, I’ve thought about taking the
hard-shell top off, but it’s really not easy to lift, so I content
myself with the windows rolled down so I can feel the air stirring
around me.

The whole drive, I’m battling with thoughts
about Lev. I keep trying to tell myself there is no point in going
there. It hurts too much, and he isn’t going to save me this time.
I want to believe it’s because he can’t. Actually, I have to
believe that because if he is staying away for some other reason,
it’s only going to cut that much deeper in the end.

As I pull into the cemetery parking lot, I
realize it’s deserted, just like the last time I came, which is a
good thing, in my book as long as the person I came to see still
sits on that bench. I need a vote of sanity, and the only person I
can think of who qualifies without strings attached is Bob. Maybe
he can’t make all of this any more bearable than it is, but at
least he can try to bring some kind of reason into it.

I get out and find I’m in luck as I see him
huddled toward his wife’s grave, his withered old hand resting atop
the stone. Part of me cringes, knowing what it must cost him every
time he comes out here. I carefully walk among the stones, watching
so I don’t step on any graves. I’m not superstitious or anything,
just respectful. I’ve loved too many people who have wound up dead
not to think maybe some part of them sees the living long after we
give up on them being here. It takes a few moments to get to Bob,
and as I step closer to his wife’s grave, I see he is pulling
weeds. His hands are trembling again, and it looks taxing for him
so I step closer and kneel.

“
Here, let me help,” I say,
my hands reaching for the clumps of crab grass noticeably taller
than the grass around them.

“
Thank you,” he says in a
breathy voice. “My body just doesn’t work the way it once did,
Lizzie.”

“
You’re welcome.” I pull up
the weeds I can see, then turn toward where he has sat down on the
bench. “You see any others?”

“
Nope. Great job.” His face
is kind of wan, and he wipes his hand across his sweaty forehead. A
couple of places on his white cotton button-down shirt are spotted
with perspiration, testimony of his effort to keep his wife’s grave
as beautiful as he can make it, even now. He closes his eyes and
ducks his head a little, as though trying to catch his
breath.

“
You all right?” I ask,
rising. I wipe my hands on my pants and step toward him, hating how
something as simple as tending a cemetery plot taxes him so much.
It really isn’t fair.

He takes a deep breath and offers a weak
smile. “I’ll be fine, Lizzie.” He pats the bench next to him. “How
are you?”

“
Been better.” I brush the
hair from my face, wishing I’d drawn it into a ponytail or braided
it—anything to keep it out of my face.

“
How so?” he looks at his
wife’s grave, but I can tell he’s listening. He’s the only person
in my life who seems to listen, and we’re not even
related.

“
It’s just really crazy at
home, and I’d rather be anywhere else, if you want to know the
truth.”

“
How come? What’s going
on?”

I take a deep breath, watching the soft
breeze tease through the leaves overhead, gently swaying the
branches. The sun pours through the green, dappling the ground. I
wish I knew how to put all this into words someone could understand
without thinking I’m nuts because I’m not. It just seems like
everything else is.

“
Go on, Lizzie.” He pats my
knee. “Sounds like you need somebody to talk to.”

“
My guardian, Jimmie,
suddenly seems to have found this woman, and he’s…inseparable from
her. The same thing with my best friend. He’s met one of my new
friends, and I can’t seem to pry them apart, either.” Half of me
wonders if this, too, has to do with Lev. Would I be this jealous
if he were here? Or would I be completely happy and
oblivious?

I wish I had the chance to find out.

“
So what’s wrong with that?
Is it your boyfriend?” he asks softly, his gaze turning toward
me.

“
I don’t know. Maybe.
That’s not all of it.” I know I’m crazy, thinking of telling this
old man about what Lev really was, but I need to talk about this. I
want to. I don’t care of the whole world thinks it’s me. It’s
not.

“
What else is
it?”

“
Do you believe in
supernatural stuff?” The minute the words are out, I want to take
them back and shake them into something that doesn’t sound so
stupid; the trouble is, I can’t for the life of me think of what
that would be.

“
Yeah, I do.” His answer is
quick, non-judgmental. “What’s on your mind?” He pulls out a
handkerchief and wipes his face.

“
Do you believe in angels?”
It’s a closer probe, something to let me gauge whether I need to
back off, but Bob isn’t suddenly blinking faster or acting
weird.

“
Sure. Not sure where this
world would be without angels, Lizzie. Just because we can’t see
them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“
But I’ve seen them,” I
say, crossing my legs at the ankles.

The quiet suddenly explodes into a loud
ripping of wings through air as a murder of crows suddenly launches
skyward, clotting the air with blackness. One bird skims close to
my head, and I duck, but Bob just sits there, unaffected by the
near crash of the beast. We both silently watch as the murder wings
across the sky, the blackness basted across light blue like a
strand of thread sewing an ‘M’ into the heavens. A moment later,
the group dwindles from sight, and I turn toward Bob.

“
That was weird.” My heart
is beating fast, and I put my hand on my chest, as if that will
slow it down.

“
Just crows. Nothing big.”
He turns to me. “Now what were you saying before?”

“
I have seen an angel
before, Bob.”

“
Really?” He seems excited,
not concerned, and relief floods through me. “In what
way?”

Here’s the test, I think. “Lev was one.” My
voice is breathless, but it feels good to get it out.

“
But I thought you said he
died?” Bob’s gaze has narrowed in confusion. “From what I
understand, angels don’t die.”

For the first time, I wonder about that, at
how a supernatural creature could die from a mortal wound, and in
that moment, I suddenly find I don’t understand my world anymore.
Bob is right. That shouldn’t have killed an angel. So what
happened? And where is he?

I look around, wondering if he’s somewhere
nearby, watching, suddenly aware the joke has been on me. My heart
starts speeding up, and I suddenly don’t know where to go. Nothing
makes sense.

“
Lizzie?” Bob stares at me
in concern. “You look a little pale.”

“
I’m fine. I just need to
go.” I stand.

“
Did I upset you?” He
struggles to stand as well, but I wave for him to keep
sitting.

“
No, it’s been a long day.
It’s not you. Really.” I turn and rush back to my Jeep, my eyes
blurring long before I get there, and I wish these damned tears
would just dry up and get it over with. Nothing like getting
sucker-punched again.

And again.

Chapter
Twelve

I know I promised Jimmie to be back before
dinner, but I can’t, not knowing Theresa and Jayzee are both there,
and I’m supposed to act like all this is perfectly normal. But it
isn’t—none of it. So I drive around, not really caring where I’m
headed, only knowing that anywhere is a better place to be. With
any luck, maybe Jimmie will rescind my parole from begin grounded,
thereby saving me from an awkward evening with Jayzee.

I glance at my watch: 7:45. I’ve silenced my
phone, so I don’t know if Jimmie or Griffin has tried calling, not
that it would have brought me running back. As it is, I figure I’ve
given them about enough time to get through dinner, and maybe both
Theresa and Jayzee have decided to head out.

I’m on the highway just outside of town,
almost ready to turn back when suddenly the world behind me flares
into brilliance from the blue and red lights behind. Immediately, I
look at the speedometer, but I’m only going 55, well within the
limit here. As far as I know, I don’t have any lights burned out.
So I don’t have a clue what’s going on.

“
Great,” I mutter, pressing
the turn signal and pulling off onto the shoulder. The cruiser
follows, lights still flashing, and I grab my purse, my trembling
fingers searching for my wallet as I see the silhouette of the
officer get out of his vehicle and start toward my door. I manage
to get my license free before he gets there, and I reach for the
insurance from the glove box when I hear his knuckles rap on the
glass, telling me to roll down the window.

My fingers wrap around the small card, and I
comply, ready to hand them both to the officer when I look into his
eyes. Scott stands there. As he isn’t wearing his hat, the garish
red and blue lights shine off his blond hair.

I shake my head in disbelief. “Aren’t you
just a little outside your jurisdiction?” My tone is as tight as my
chest feels.

He nods. “Yeah.” His voice is softer spoken
than I remember, and he isn’t looking me in the eye; the frown on
his face is clearly uncomfortable, as though he doesn’t want to be
here any more than I want him to be here. “We need to talk.”

“
We have nothing to say,
Scott. Nothing.” I rest my hand on the window knob, ready to roll
it up so I can drive away. Then again, I’m wondering just how much
trouble that would get me in.

“
Really. Have you taken a
good look at the bruises on Sarah’s arms lately? Any guesses on
where else she might be hiding them. What about hospital visits?
Has she told you about any of those? Colin has given her lots of
chances to see the emergency room.” His jaw is clenched, and he
leans against the window, his whole body tensed as though if he
tried to move, something would break.

“
I don’t know Sarah that
well. Those are pretty personal questions.” It suddenly feels like
I’m on a space shuttle and there’s no gravity around me. I’m
suspended in the air, and I can’t even control my own body
anymore.

“
That’s my whole point,
Elizabeth. You have no idea whom you are hanging around. Colin,
Kane, and Jayzee are capable of getting you into so much trouble
you aren’t prepared to deal with. It’s worse than Knoxville. Trust
me—”

“
Why should I?” I demand,
shaking my head. “Everybody thinks I should just trust them, but
nobody gives me a reason, Scott. And your badge doesn’t count.” I
start to roll up my window. “Just leave me alone.”

“
Lizzie, we need to talk. I
have something important to tell you. I promise it’s important. I
am an angel.”

I start laughing. I don’t know why. Nothing’s
funny. I didn’t even need him to tell me that. So why is he
bothering? I pause rolling up long enough to say, “Yeah, I know
what you are. But that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t really
even matter anymore.” Anger boils inside of me. “I wouldn’t care if
you suddenly became Lev, because a friend just made something
really clear to me. He pointed out that angels don’t die like
humans, which only means that Lev, wherever he may be, has left of
his own choosing, and the only reason it mattered that you were an
angel was because of him. Now you’re just a damned thorn in my
side—a thorn with wings.”

I don’t bother rolling the window up
completely before driving away. As I see the flashing lights get
smaller and smaller, part of me wonders how much trouble I could
get into for doing that. I mean, Scott is a cop. Granted, he
doesn’t have jurisdiction here, but that doesn’t change his chosen
profession.

Watching the rear-view mirror, I keep
expecting he will drive up behind me and try to force me to pull
over, but the mirror only reflects the darkness. The lights are all
ahead of me as I drive back into the outskirts of Tellico Plains.
Of course, there isn’t much to the outskirts and if I blink, I’ll
probably miss the turn-off that takes me home.