Read Hide & Seek Online

Authors: Aimee Laine

Tags: #David_James Mobilism.org

Hide & Seek (17 page)

18

The drive home took them most of Sunday, but only because Lexi suggested the coastal route with periodic beach stops. She and Tripp kept their conversation simple and relaxed—no bad guys, no work and no star or related subjects.

Once home, Lexi headed straight to her bedroom with her white four-poster bed and sheer netting across the top, tan plaid walls and mismatched furniture. Within moments, Emma stood at the door, dug in for details and repeatedly went back to the one subject Lexi had hoped to avoid discussing.

“Yes … for the fourth time … I said, he disappears.” Lexi withdrew the last of her clothes from her suitcase.

“He really told you he disappears?”

Lexi spun, faced her sister. “Again … showed me, Em. Showed.” She snapped her fingers. “So now, if I mention something to really freak him out, even imply I might catch him at something, he’ll go poof.”

Emma laughed until her entire body jiggled.

“Why is this so funny?”

As she breathed her way to light hiccups, Emma returned Lexi’s gaze. “Did you stop to think he might have faked it? I’ll place bets that you didn’t ask why he did it, accepted it as his answer to your threatening question and moved on. It’s what you do, Lex. The wall of don’t-ask-don’t-get-hurt moves into place. The disappearing act may be his trick, but I’m guessing he forced it.”

Lexi crossed her arms over her chest.

“And he probably laughed while he did it.”

“So?” Lexi faced her back to her sister.

“Then what’d you do?” Emma whistled a tuneless song. “I’ll infer on that one. No need for other crazy images to pop into my mind. Did you happen to ask him about the whole partnership thing?”

Lexi dropped to the edge of her bed. Her finger traced the pattern on the quilt her mother made ages ago. “I did. He likes the idea, though I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Really?” Emma moved to Lexi’s side.

“I was scared, Em. I—” She raised and dropped her hands as Emma put her arm around her. “I thought I’d be better at it. I mean, my gift is awesome. I figured I knew how to use all of it.”

“Aw, honey, you know the old expression practice makes perfect?”

“Of course—”

“Well, that’s not all. Until now you’ve never pushed the borders of your abilities, always did what came easily or naturally and avoided the other possibilities.” Emma rubbed up and down Lexi’s back. “Your rule has been no people, nothing stolen, personal gain only for basic living purposes. Which left the easy stuff like real estate.” Emma’s sigh blew warm breath against Lexi’s shoulder. “You’ve established your ground rules like a witch’s creed. I get the whole no people, no forced interpersonal relations thing. But the rest? You could venture a little closer to the line.”

Lexi stood and paced to the window. “It’s all changing, Em.”

Her sister’s arms wound around Lexi again. “It’s supposed to, Lex.”

“I’ve known him for a week, but I’m already falling in love with him.” She dropped to the window seat. “I can talk to him like I do with you.”

“Only to a point of course.” Emma tapped Lexi’s cheek. “You’ll always need me, but that’s a good thing.”

Lexi’s laugh came with natural exuberance. “Oh, yeah, I will. You’re my rock, sis. But he’s—”

“Hot? Hunky? Smart?” Emma giggled. “Understands you for what you are?”

“But, we still don’t know how to get around the paradox, Em. If I mention the word love, will he disappear, too? If I say marriage, will he erase himself completely from my life?”

Emma squeezed Lexi’s shoulders. “You’ll figure it out, like you do with everything else.”

“So, how?”

“With me, of course.” Emma held a hand over her heart. “This is all really about me, right?”

They laughed like a couple of school girls discussing their latest boyfriends or boy woes over homework.

“There’s a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer if you want to share,” Emma said.

“Yeah, let’s.”

She pointed to the pendant resting against Lexi’s chest. “Oh, meant to tell you, I found out a little about your necklace. It’s valuable from a jewel perspective, and it looks like this one has a history of sorts.”

“What did you find?” Lexi waved Emma toward the kitchen—a black and white, clean-lined room with red accents.

Emma dug in the fridge for the ice cream while Lexi grabbed spoons and straddled a bar stool.

“So,” Emma said as she scooped her first bite of gooey chocolate yumminess, “the star looks like yours … completely. Robert’s wife, Sherill, I believe, she said you should keep it, right?”

Lexi nodded, dug in. “Actually, I think her words were ‘it’s yours’.”

“Okay, so anyway, you know when you go to a yard sale with tons of old stuff, and you find out whatever you bought once belonged to the Earl of Denmark or something?” Emma dug in and scooped out a mouth-sized bite of ice cream.

“The Earl of what?”

“I was making him up.” Her spoon waved in the air. “It’s beside the point, anyway. The star inside is what makes it valuable, and this one … there’s some serious history. It’s a piece with over four hundred years of documented back story. It’s historic, Lex, and I think she always
meant
to give it to you.”

Lexi paused, her spoon midair. “Wow. But … um … why me?”

“Honestly? I think you were meant to go down this route. Search for new work to use your gift, meet Tripp, fall in love and find a way to get around the ultimate brick wall.”

“Got an idea on how to make all this happen then?”

Emma smiled. “You bet I do. It has nothing to do with the pendant. I think that was just the match for the flame. I think the answer you seek is a simple one.”

“No way, Em. It can’t be—”

“Dig in, Lex, ’cause it is.”

Lexi did as her sister told her, though slower than she might otherwise have.

“So …” Emma started, “think about all the kid games we used to play—like hide and seek. The last person found becomes the new seeker, right? At least, that’s how we played when you weren’t around. The seeker gives up his or her role to the new winner.”

Lexi jerked back as if she’d been slapped. “Give it up? Give up my gift?”

“Not quite. Well … yes, but differently. Maybe it’s time to pass on the title, so to speak. If George and Marge knew about your gift, then they had to find a way around it, too. Maybe they had to pass it on to you and Tripp in order for them to be together.”

• • •

Tripp flicked the light switch and brought a gray flicker of life to the farmhouse kitchen.

“You’ve got a shit-load of work to do on this place, man.” Ian stepped into the empty space. “That is, if you want to modernize it, of course.”

“Yeah, well, it could be a challenge.” Tripp kicked at a corner tile in need of repair. “Or I’ll redo it and sell it.”

“Ouch.” Ian mimicked the touch of a finger against hot metal. “Lexi would find you and kill you if you didn’t sell it to her. Emma told me how much she loves this place.”

“You and Emma spent quite a bit of time together.” Tripp wandered into the living room, another empty space in need of upgrades. The faded carpet, old wallpaper and general stuffiness suited the previous owners.

Ian sauntered in after him. “Since you left without a word to the wise, I was given nothing to do in this god-forsaken miniature city. No, wait, it’s barely a town. I figured hanging with a pretty woman was making the best of it.”

“You two hit it off?” Tripp turned to his friend, grinning at the possibility.

“Nah. She’d make a damn nice sister, though. Got this gooey, happy girl feel to her with a bit of a kick. Michael would love her.”

Surprise took over Tripp’s thoughts. “He’s what … eight years younger than her?

“Nothing a little cougar town couldn’t handle. But enough about her.”

Tripp switched lights on in a small first-floor bathroom. “Emma and Lexi seem pretty tight, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going upstairs.”

“I might as well follow. I mean, once again, what else is here for me?” Ian’s snide remarks made Tripp chuckle.

The first and fifth stairs creaked under his weight and again under Ian’s. The landing boasted shag carpet—out of style decades before.

“Did these guys ever do any upgrades?” Ian flicked on the single overhead light.

“I think those two were totally into each other, even after fifty, sixty, or however many years they’d been together.” Tripp leaned through the doorframe of a full bathroom. A white porcelain clawfoot tub sat center stage. “Wow. I can see why Lexi likes this house.” He made his way into the master bedroom and shifted his gaze up to find four skylights built into the ceiling.

Ian paced up to him. “Now that is why Lexi likes this house. What a view of the stars.”

“How long did you say George and Marge were together?” Tripp stared up through the overhead windows.

“She told me they found each other when they were eighteen, married right away—had to, she said, but didn’t go into why. I mean, back then, could have been any reason. War. Just being young and impetuous—which you are not. What about an unplanned pregnancy?”

Tripp didn’t want to think about Marge and George’s intimate life. “How did they get around their gifts? She told me it was part of the game or the end of it.”

Ian chuckled. “Dude, that’s an easy one. I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out.”

The stars and moon brought small pinpoints of light into the room. “I’m tired and frustrated. So, if you would, please, fill me in on what you learned.”

“Fine, fine.” Ian leaned against the wall. “Let’s talk about one other thing first.”

“What could be more important?”

Ian shook his head, rolling his eyes as if Tripp should have read his mind. “Sloan?”

“Go on.”

“According to some insiders, who we’re going to owe big time, Sloan hired us to get the painting using his ownership papers, right?

Tripp nodded.

“Apparently, he’d already sold that painting last year to an auction house across the big Atlantic pond—in Paris. What I’m guessing here is, Sloan will hint to the buyer that something happened—he got the wrong copy, maybe. When Sloan comes up empty-handed, he’ll point to us since we excavated it, so to speak.”

“So, when he reports it as a forgery, it would fall into Interpol’s jurisdiction, and when it comes back to us, we’ll be up shit creek.” Tripp punched the air.

Ian smiled. “With no paddles or life jackets.” He shook a finger in Tripp’s direction. “If you take the bait, he’s got his painting, his money, and his baby girl is happy.”

Tripp leaned his head to his friend. “But?”

“He thinks we’re high priced retrieval experts—which we are—but he doesn’t know what you can really do.” Ian placed a hand over his heart. “So, what if we call his bluff? We find the real one and replace it for the buyer. We undo what he did. That’s what I think you gotta do to win Lexi, too.”

“What’re you talking about?” Tripp crossed to the side window, peered down into the blankness of the yard.

“You’re not going to go through all this stuff unless the end goal is worth it, right? Is she?”

Tripp shifted his gaze to the stars. They blinked, blipped and shimmered. “As crazy as it sounds—yeah, I think she’s worth it.”

“Then you gotta let her catch you.”

“Say what?
That’s
the magic solution you learned from the Fergs?” He couldn’t help the incredulous note that crept into his voice.

“Finish the game, just like when we were kids. You play hide and seek, but on your terms. You only hide until you’re ready to be caught, and you
let
her find you.”

“Throw the game? And what will losing do for me? Is this house a reflection of that end?” Tripp spun, his arms wide. “Because if it is, I don’t want it. I don’t want a broken down farmhouse with nothing to show for my life.”

Ian offered his cheesiest grin. “Thought she was worth it.”

Tripp ran a hand over his head, scratched against the tattoo on his neck. “Dammit. I hate this. All my life I’ve been tied to this fucking star, and now, of all times, it wants to bite me in the ass.”

“Aw, man. You’ve had a good run, and just because you give in to her, doesn’t mean you’ll lose your ability. You let her
catch
you. Maybe that means our life as we know it goes away … and maybe it doesn’t.”

Tripp slammed his palm onto the wall. “Why did I give up Jill?” He pounded his forehead into the same spot.

“Because she wasn’t worth it.” Ian’s lips stayed curved up.

Without turning around, Tripp said, “And Lexi is?”

“Only you can answer that.”

“We gotta go back to New York, don’t we?” Tripp spun to his friend, recognizing the next step as much as he already hated it. “We have to leave before I can even know for sure, don’t we?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, we do. Tomorrow.”

19

In the morning sunshine, the farmhouse’s flaws jumped out like acne on a teenager. Though wallpaper peeled, the faucet handle fell away from the sink, and bathroom pipes gurgled, the floor to ceiling windows left without cover breathed life into the old square house. Tripp walked through the entire place, taking notes on work needed.

“I want to check out the barn.” He thumbed to Ian, who worked from his cell.

“You get good reception out here, man. That’s going to be necessary when we’re working long distance.”

Since the moment he met Lexi, Tripp knew he’d move from New York. He forgot his best friend wouldn’t. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t think—”

“I know.” Ian tapped at the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Arranging flights for tonight.” Ian stopped, lifted his head.

“We only have ’til Friday, or we’re going to get screwed.”

“That’s what
she
said.” Ian belted out a laugh.

“That wasn’t a joke,” Tripp said.

“Fine. Fine. Then, yes, tonight. That gives us exactly four days to figure out what to do. I’d say let’s ask Lexi for help, but I think you need to keep her out of this.”

Tripp’s grin fell flat like a soufflé without any yeast. “I thought we could use her.” Just saying the word ‘use’ sounded crass, even to his own ears.

“It’s too dangerous to bring her in on this. She doesn’t have the skills, and we’ve got to be quick.”

Tripp rubbed his face, gave a small groan. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“No maybe about it.” Ian didn’t even look up.

“I’m going out to the barn.” Tripp thumbed over his shoulder as he passed from living room through the kitchen, footsteps telling him Ian followed.

The walk to the red Americana structure covered no more than fifty yards. To one side, a white fence gated a weedy pasture, and to the other, a double clothesline sagged.

“There isn’t a soul within my sight line,” Ian said.

A smile built within Tripp. “Yeah, it’s cool, isn’t it?” He slipped the old latch open with a single push, the hinges creaking as the door swung outward. “Wow.”

The wide open space smelled of hay and dust with six doors on each side. “This could hold horses if I wanted.” Tweets high in the rafters suggested a swallow or some other bird had made her home above.

“There’re probably snakes in here,” Ian said.

Tripp grinned. “Scared?”

“No.” Ian pushed past him, dropping his phone in a pocket. “We’re booked. First class, nine o’clock.”

A tack room door creaked on rusty hinges—worse than the outside one had. Four saddle racks jutted from the walls with accompanying hooks for bridles and accessories. A metal cabinet in the corner, coated in dust and cobwebs, beckoned to be opened.

Rust spots dotted the handle Tripp reached for.

“I think this building is in better shape than the house,” Ian said.

Tripp grunted—the doors screeching as they separated.

“Did you expect there’d be something in there?” Ian asked.

“No, just had this weird feeling.” He closed them again, a cloud of dust breezing down from above.

“What’s that?” Ian pointed to the top of the cabinet. He reached up, bringing down a dust-covered book.

“Probably some log about horses or something.” Tripp took it, flipped through the pages, narrowing his eyes at the writing—a left slant in an ornate cursive. “Ian, check this out.” A full breath blew dust from the book to the air.

He turned to the first page, adjusting the journal’s angle to better read the handwriting.

“This is theirs.” Ian ran a finger along one of the lines. “To Marge Jacobs from George Fergs,
my forever
. Lexi would have a field day with this.”

Wheels against the gravel drive had them both turning. Tripp tucked the book beneath his arm as the two of them strode out.

“Who the hell is that?” Ian stopped a step away from the barn.

“Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“Sloan’s girl … from Savannah.”

“A woman?” Ian snorted.

“Girls carry guns, too, and she came with two bigger guys. Combined with the fact I was ready to vomit, plus had a shot-up arm, I didn’t have much choice but to talk with them.”

“Hello, gentlemen,” Isabelle said, a smile across her face.

“Keeping tabs?” Tripp asked.

She bobbled her head. “It’s best if we keep our eyes on you. Helps to know what’s going on, what information to report back.”

“What do you want to know, Ms. Reed?” Tripp stuck his thumbs in his pockets as Ian flanked him.

“Oh, well, I’m heading back to New York. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget our deal.” She turned as Lexi’s Mini pulled in next to her rental.

Lexi exited her car with a wave. In her hand, she carried another envelope. As she walked toward where they stood, Lexi veered toward Isabelle, and Tripp started to head her off.

Ian grabbed his arm, murmuring under his breath. “Wait it out.”

Isabelle flashed a smirk across her face.

“Hi!” Lexi said and extended her hand. “I’m Lexi Shepherd.”

Tripp wanted to step between them, to prevent them from touching, to separate his present from his past.

“Isabelle Reed.”

“Are you a neighbor?” Lexi’s infectious smile hit him like it did every time he caught sight of her.

His heart thudded in his chest at the realization Isabelle could ruin everything. The fact he burned with anger confirmed what he’d already known: Lexi did mean enough.

“Ah, no, just a passerby,” Isabelle said. “Saw the for sale sign, bunch of people milling about. Had to check it out. This is a pretty nice house—old in a country charm kind of way.”

“It is. Don’t you just love it? Tripp just bought it.” She pointed his way, smiling again. “I’ve got to get the sign down.” A pat to the yellow envelope had them both angling down toward it.

“Did he now? Well, that’s quite the investment.” Isabelle started back toward her car. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll catch you all some other time.”

“Bye, now,” Lexi said.

The car backed out onto the road. In that brief span of time, Tripp’s emotions upped from worried to pissed. What if Isabelle said more? What if Lexi asked other questions?

He left Ian’s side, quick-stepped to Lexi and wrapped her in a fierce hug, crushing his mouth to hers.

She dug in as he did, wrapping her arms around him. “Wow.”

“I need to tell you something.” Tripp laid his forehead against hers. “I—”

Ian shoved his shoulder. “Well, guys, let’s go in. I think you’ve got some final papers to sign and … stuff.”

Lexi angled back up toward Tripp. “What were you going to say?”

He glanced at Ian and got a head shake. “Ah … just that this is going to be a cool project. I wanted to thank you for showing me the house.” His heart strained with the lie, but he willed himself to withhold further information.

As they headed in, Tripp slipped the book to Ian.

• • •

Lexi spun in the middle of the empty living room. “I love this place.”

Tripp joined her, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her in for a lover’s kiss. “You’re kidding, right?”

She backed away from him. “Not at all. This place has character. Yeah, it could use some touch-ups.” She flicked the corner of the stripe-mixed-with-flower patterned wallpaper. “It breathes life, Tripp. It’s made for families, for children running around at all hours of the day, for grandkids, for life.”

“And that’s what you want?” He leaned against the high mantel of the fireplace.

Lexi meandered his way. “I do.” They hadn’t broached the topic of family on their trip back from Savannah, sticking instead to more of the mundane. “What do you want, Tripp?” His hesitation pushed her forward. “You asked me to find you a house, and I found you this one. You bought it almost sight unseen. You said you trusted me, but if this is too much, then I understand. I’ll see what I can do, buy it from you and let you get back to New York.”

He shook his head. “I’m not ready for any of those conversations.”

“Well, at least you didn’t disappear.”

He smiled. “Back in Savannah, I let my body interpret it to mean more than it did so I could show you how my gift works. You know that, right?”

Thank god for Emma. “
Of course.”

Tripp laughed, a hearty, full sound that bounced through the room.

“What?”

He encircled her with his arms and laid a kiss at the side of her mouth. “
You
are the worst liar I’ve ever met, Karen Jones.”

“Oh, good grief. How can you tell?”

“You hesitate, for one—gives me a chance to know you’re thinking.” He laid a line of kisses along her lips.

Lexi let her head fall back so he could move to her jawline and neck. “That’s so nice.”

“You know, this house is mine now, we could, ah—”

“Toodles!” A cheery voice broke through their foreplay.

“What the hell is my sister doing here?” Tripp released Lexi.

“Tripper!” She ran straight to Tripp, wrapping him in a hug, though she barely reached his shoulders.

He turned with her attached to him. “Lexi? This is my sister, Missy. Miss? This is Lexi Shepherd.”

Lexi took the hand of the pixie woman who stood no more than five feet tall and couldn’t have worn a size larger than a one. Despite her stature, her presence reflected an inner confidence and outward exuberance no one would miss. Her hair stuck out at all angles, as black as the crayons Lexi and Emma used to color with, but the blue of her eyes came from the same gene pool as Tripp’s.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Lexi smiled.

“Oh, you are a nice one, aren’t you?” Missy punched him in his good shoulder.

“What brings you to Rune, Missy?” Lexi asked.

Hands on hips, she said, “This guy—” She thumbed to Tripp who shrugged and mouthed ‘I don’t know’. “—didn’t tell me about his new house—”

“I just bought it three days ag—”

She stopped him with a glare, switching back to Lexi. “As I was saying … he failed to tell me, but I got the story from Ma, who got it from Ian, who told me he was here hanging with some blonde chick waiting for Tripp to come back.” Missy stopped, tilted her head at Lexi. “And Blondie looked an awful lot like you.”

“That would be Emma, my twin sister.”

“The coloring is all different.”

Despite the odd comment, Lexi found she liked Missy Fox. “Our parents call us exact opposites, but we’re far more alike in some areas of our lives than others.”

“Interesting.” Missy tapped a finger against her chin. “I can see why he likes you, but I have no idea about this place.” She dropped her bag on the floor, rifled through and withdrew a pad of blank paper and a pencil. “You’re going to need tons of help in here, Tripp. How in the hell did you find this place?”

“I guess you didn’t hear the whole story.” He nodded to Lexi. “She’s my antithesis, my paradox, the—”

“Finder? Catcher? Go-getter?” Missy’s eyes lit, and she whooped like a Texas cowboy as she slapped her palm against Tripp’s chest. “No way! She found you? And this house for you?”

Lexi’s smile grew.

“I’m impressed, Lexi. Completely. I’ll bet this is your favorite place in the world, too.”

“Um, well, yeah, it is,” Lexi said.

“Sweet!” She hooted as she dug into her bag for a series of colored pencils. “Please, please, please let me do the design for the remodel. You are going to remodel, right?”

“It’s not mine to make that call. It’s his.” She beckoned to Tripp with her head.

“He leaves all his flats, apartments, condos, beach houses, whatever it is to me. Ian does, too. I’m building my own design firm outside D.C. Even got a contract on a Victorian there. I like to keep to the feel of the
place
, so not everyone likes my style. It has to suit the building, not just the people inside it.”

Emotion swelled within Lexi. She wanted to cry out that she, too, would love Missy to remodel it, but she held back.

The house belonged to Tripp.

“I can give you the history of the building, a feel for the previous owners, who were here for over fifty years, if that helps,” Lexi said.

Missy waved Tripp away. “He’ll write the checks. You just leave everything to me. When can I get started?”

• • •

“I’m here!” Emma’s voice carried from downstairs.

“Up here,” Tripp called back.

He and Lexi followed Missy from each room as Lexi gave her the history, timelines and details as she knew them. She described what George and Marge used each space for: she for sewing and reading, he for lounging and treasure hunting.

Lexi whirled, her hands at her lips. “Oh, my goodness.”

“Did you get one of those aha moments?” Tripp shifted to her as Ian and Emma stepped up to the second floor landing.

Lexi ran to the back room. She spun in a circle, her arms wide, a huge smile on her face. “George used to have all these maps, compasses and things in here. They were plastered all over the walls. I never put it together. They were still at it. Or he was. I don’t know exactly.” She paced from one side to the other, her hands running across the empty space. “World and US maps. A big one of Antarctica was right here.” She circled a spot near a window. “He even had a few on the ceiling.”

Tripp eyed Ian, who slow-bobbed his head to the side and mouthed, ‘I told you so.’

“Think he still has his gift?” Lexi asked. “Is that possible?”

“When we were here …” Tripp started. “She said something. ‘They still play the game.’ Do you think they meant—”

“Have sex?” Ian’s question hung in the air until Emma burst out a laugh.

“Only you, Ian.” Missy sat against one wall, her sketch materials in hand.

Lexi’s eyes brimmed with excitement. “Even in their old age, as a couple, they could have still had it? Their gifts, I mean?”

Tripp drew her to him. “Is that what you want? Both the relationship and the gift?”

“I like what I do. I was looking for something a little more exciting—maybe not with so much danger, but yeah. I want to be old and get to go on adventures.”

“Can you guys give us a second?” Tripp waved the group out the door.

They all groaned.

“We’ll be downstairs. Don’t take too long, or we’ll know you’re up to more than conversation,” Ian said.

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