“You can stay, Everly. It’s just this wiseass who needs to go.”
“It’s okay, Jim. I need to get home, anyway.” She handed him the cash. “Keep the change. I’ll haul this one out with me.”
“Much obliged. Have a good night. Drive safe.”
Garvey laughed all the way out the door. “Did you see his face?”
Everly huffed. “You aren’t funny, you know? That wasn’t very nice.”
“Aww, Jim’ll be okay. We go back and forth like that all the time. He’s used to it. He knows what he married.” Garvey sobered up for a minute. “I tell you what, though. Jim’s wife makes the best mincemeat pie in the world. It’s her pies we sell at the cafe. She’s a damn fine cook.”
Everly stared at Garvey skeptically. “Fine, I guess you’ve redeemed yourself. This time.” She cringed as the fog rolled up on them again. Icy tendrils of cloud bit into whatever flesh they could find. “The fog’s worse. You need a ride back to your car?”
“It’s fifty feet in the opposite direction, Everly. Nah, I’m good. See you in the morning.”
He watched Everly depart until he could no longer see her taillights. He turned to go back to the cafe, disappearing into the fog.
Everly waited outside the cafe for Garvey to open up the next morning, but the cook never arrived. After an hour passed with no sign of him, she pulled out her cellphone and tried calling Garvey. No answer. She sighed and dialed the only other number she knew to call.
“Hey, Jim. It’s Everly. Garvey never showed up to open the cafe.”
Chapter Six
"Ma, how much longer you planning on keeping me here? I need to get back to work," Caleb whined.
"Two days is hardly enough time." She watched his face twist in pain as he tried to sit up. "You can't even move without wincing. And that concussion! How do you expect to do any work until you're healed?"
"Ugh. I hate this. Two days is too long. I don't have time for this." He struggled to sit up.
"You never could just be still. Always moving. Now, it's imperative you rest. The more you rest, the faster you can get back on your feet."
"And my truck? Where's my truck, Ma? The longer it sits at the tow yard, the more it'll cost to get it out."
Jennifer shook her head. She hadn't had the heart to tell him. She ran her fingers through her hair. "It's totaled. I'm sorry."
"Totaled? What the hell did I hit?"
Jennifer shook her head. "You don't want to talk about it," she answered simply. It wasn't a lie. It involved Mae White, and she'd agreed.
"Fine.” His jaw tightened. He needed to know what happened, but he refused to talk about Mae White. “Tell me what happened to my truck."
“It’s totaled. And Caleb, it gets worse,” Jennifer’s voice got serious. “Apparently, they found a drifter. Maybe that’s what you saw in the fog. They haven’t said anything to you because they haven’t made a decision yet. Once they investigate your truck, there could be charges pending.”
Caleb’s eyes widened. “I didn’t hit anything, Ma, I swear. I swerved to avoid something coming out of the fog, like I told you. It didn’t seem big enough to be a person, but maybe I just didn’t see it good enough.”
Jennifer chewed her inner lip. She hoped Caleb was right. All this stuff happening so close to Mae’s return made her nauseous. It had to be related. All of it—the thick fog, the accident, the strange drifter’s reappearance—had to have some connection to the anniversary. Rickdale was a pleasant town. Mae White was its worst story. Most of those who lived in Rickdale were kind, caring human beings, even if they were a bit old-fashioned. Time didn’t stand still there; it just took its time catching up to the rest of the world.
She also knew the only reason the sheriff hadn’t said anything to Caleb about the accident was because it was so close to the anniversary and stranger things were known to happen, and he wanted to give Caleb a chance to heal before he started questioning him. That was another reason she loved Rickdale so much. They were so slow to judge one of their own. No bad souls existed in Rickdale, not even Harlan White, despite the rumors of his part in his family’s demise.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Someone knocked on Jennifer’s door. She saw the sheriff’s large-brimmed hat through her thin curtains and sighed. She knew it was inevitable. Caleb looked better by the day. She had hoped it would be later rather than sooner.
“Good morning, Tom,” Jennifer said, a pleasant smile plastered on her face. “Care for a cup of coffee?”
“You know I would. The station coffee, despite all of Carla’s best efforts, still tastes like skunk water. Thank you,” he said, taking his hat off as he entered her house.
Jennifer poured a mug of coffee for him and set it down on the kitchen table with a small pitcher of creamer and a shaker of sugar. He set his hat down on the table and picked up the mug.
“How’s Caleb?” Tom asked.
Jennifer fixed herself a cup and joined him. “He’s mending. I think he’s still in shock, to be honest. He doesn’t understand how he totaled his truck or the severity of his injuries. He’s chomping at the bit to go back to work. Typical Caleb,” she laughed.
Tom chuckled. He had known Jennifer since she was born. Caleb was almost like a grandson to him. He hated this. “Knowing Caleb like I do I’m surprised you kept him in bed this long.” His voice took on a serious tone. “Jennifer, I want you to know I really don’t want to be here under these circumstances. As far as I’m concerned, the fog caused the accident. I saw no signs of speeding or anything that would indicate irresponsible driving, but...” he stopped and stared into his mug.
“You have a job to do,” Jennifer finished for him. She reached out and touched his hand with her fingers. “I knew you were coming, Tom. It’s okay. I don’t know how much he can tell you, though. He was stunned this morning when I told him about his truck. He saw something move out of the fog and swerved to avoid it. He doesn’t recall hitting anything or anyone. And no matter how hard I try to get him to talk about it, his story never changes.”
Tom nodded. “I figured as much, but I still have questions I have to ask for the record. Then I file my report for the state, they ignore it like they always do, and life goes on like normal here in Rickdale. I really don’t see anything happening with this. In all the years I’ve been in law enforcement, including the years my father served as sheriff, the state has never done anything about any incidents here in Rickdale. It’s like they erased us from the rest of the world, which is a-okay with me. I don’t expect this to change anything.” He finished his coffee and handed his empty mug to Jennifer. “Much obliged for the coffee. Can I see him now?”
Jennifer nodded. “Caleb? Cover up. You have company,” she called down the hallway as they approached his bedroom. Jennifer pointed out the door to Tom.
“No, Ma. I’ll come to the kitchen. I want some coffee.”
“You don’t need to get up, Caleb,” the sheriff told him. He stuck his head in the doorway and waved.