“Something like that, as I recall. We were on our way over to what's her face's house to swim and she was wearing these super short shorts and a red bikini top, hair hanging down her back, hips switching from side to side and mouth going a mile a minute. I decided right then and there that I couldn't stand her.”
Pam crawled down from Nate's arms and shot Chad a baleful look. Nate and Chad burst out laughing, giving each other knowing looks over her head. Nikki thought about the entry she'd read in her mom's diary that morning and felt her face heat up from embarrassment. She saw the look her mom had written about on her dad's face and shrank away from it. The air in the room seemed to evaporate and she felt a little queasy in the absence of it, wanted to be away from it and them.
“I'm going to unpack my stuff,” she said to no one in particular. Three pairs of eyes turned in her direction and she hoped the expression on her face didn't betray her thoughts.
“You got stuff today?” Chad asked.
“We got a head start on school shopping,” Pam said. “And my shorts weren't super short.”
“Is that a nice way of saying you went crazy in the mall? And yes, they were.”
“No, it's a nice way of saying we got an early start on school shopping. One less thing for you to worry about, so get that look off your face and thank me. Your credit card was saved from major damage.”
“Must be nice having a rich auntie.” Nate winked at Nikki and went to the refrigerator. “Peachy, I got some raw footage I want to show you later on, so don't let me forget, okay? And Pam, the shorts
were
a little risqué.”
“Okay, Uncle Nate,” Nikki said and left the kitchen.
He watched her go, then turned his attention to Pam. “What are you about to get into?”
She shrugged and pushed her hands in her back pockets. “Nothing much. I was planning on running by to holler at Jasper and then going back to the B&B.”
“You got time for me later on?”
“Yeah.” Pam noticed the creases in Nate's forehead and frowned. “What's going on, Nate?”
“Nothing too serious. I have to go make nice with Merlene, but I should be done by midnight, at the latest. How about you meet me at the spot around half after?” He pulled a canned soda from the refrigerator and popped the tab, took a long swallow. “You still remember how to get there, don't you?”
“That's a joke, right?”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead and moved past her, calling out that he'd see her and Chad later.
Nate took his soda with him as he jogged down the porch steps and set off down the sidewalk. It was a nice, breezy night, and the air felt good against his skin. He sucked in a mouthful and released it slowly, wondering at the luxury of being able to walk down the street and not worry about snipers and random gunfights breaking out at any minute. He'd learned a long time ago not to take freedom for granted, but there was nothing like having firsthand knowledge of what it meant to be held captive to jog his memory.
He reached the end of the block and turned left, headed toward the center of town and his mother's house. As he crossed Juniper Street, he fished his cell phone from his pocket, flipped it open and scrolled through the numbers saved in its memory. He came to the one he was looking for and pressed
send
.
“This is Nathaniel Woodberry,” he said when the phone was answered on the other end. “I understand you've been trying to get in touch with me for some time.” He listened for several seconds as Miles Dixon introduced himself and heaped compliments on Nate's head. Swatting them away like worrisome gnats, Nate cleared his throat. “Why don't you tell me what I can do for you, Mr. Dixon?”
He agreed to meet Miles in the small bar on the first floor of his hotel and disconnected the call. Then he dialed his mother's number. Merlene was not very happy to learn that her only son had been in Mercy all day and hadn't gotten by her house to see her. He listened to her rant and rave for long minutes, inserting soothing sounds and platitudes when he could get a word in and then he promised to be on her doorstep first thing in the morning. Tomorrow was Sunday, she reminded him tartly and she would be in church first thing in the morning. He reluctantly promised to escort her to church and sit through the whole, endless service without falling asleep as recompense.
Nate dropped the phone in his pocket, wondering what the hell he'd just agreed to and why he would, being of sound mind and body, willingly offer to subject himself to one of Pastor Young's fire and brimstone sermons without first considering the repercussions. When the answer finally came to him, he shook his head and chuckled ruefully. He was a sucker for the women he loved, and he loved Merlene Woodberry like he loved breathing.
He also loved Pamela Mayes, which was why he was going to meet the man who was intent on hurting her. One way or another, Miles Dixon would be stopped.
At half after midnight, Pam appeared in the clearing and spotted Nate sitting on the creek bank with his feet submerged in the water. She dropped down next to him, toed off her slides and found his feet with hers underwater. Their spot was Valley Creek, and it was on the northern edge of town, not far from the children's home where she and Paris had grown up. She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached to lace her fingers with his. She sighed as he turned his head and his breath fanned her face softly.
“How are you, P?” His voice was low and intimate, for her ears only.
“I'm way better than I thought I would be. I thought I'd be having anxiety attacks every day that I had to be here. I haven't, though, and it's been good to be back, see some of the old folks.” She giggled quietly. “I let your mama run me out of her front room with a broomstick the other day too.”
“She always had a soft spot for you. One of the biggest gossips in town, but she never told anybody about the day she caught us together, going at it in the basement. I think that's why I kiss her ass the way I do right today.”
“The day after you kissed me out in the woods,” Pam whispered, remembering. She was glad it was dark and he couldn't see her skin turning a deep shade of red. “Chad went to Atlanta with his mother and we were supposed to be playing video games.”
“Uhmmhmm. Felt guilty about that shit for the longest. Couldn't look Chad in the face for a month afterward. I knew you were his.”
“It was one time and nobody got hurt. I think we had to get the curiosity out of our systems.”
Nate caught her eyes in the darkness. “What about those three months we spent undercover together in Barcelona? Was that curiosity?”
“No, I think that was pure and simple lust. You were back from Korea and neither of us was thinking straight. We were supposed to be sightseeing and relaxing together for old time's sake.”
Neither of them had expected to cross the line from friends to lovers in Barcelona, but they had. Their coupling was almost like a bad cliché or a late-night television movie. She had stepped out of the shower just as Nate had come into the bathroom. She'd reached for a towel to cover herself and then somehow, his mouth was on hers and she was kissing him back. The decision to minimize expenses and lease an adjoining suite was suddenly not such a smart thing to do, but the damage was done. They had spent most of their vacation in bed, having hot, mind-blowing, anything-goes sex.
“That month together in Athens was relaxing as hell too, now that you mention it. You never said anything to Paris?”
“Hell no,” Pam gasped. “Did you?”
“Hell no,” Nate mimicked her playfully. “To Chad either. How would I have been able to explain what happened between us and still keep my best friend? Some things aren't negotiable, and I have a feeling that where Chad is concerned, you're one of them. I'm just glad we didn't ruin
our
friendship in the process.” He brought their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the back of hers gently.
“It was good.”
“Damn good. Still is. You ever regret it?”
She looked at him, surprised. “Regret what? Having the chance to know all of you? Never. Why, do you?”
Nate released her hand and laid it over the sleeping semi-erection resting against his thigh inside his jeans. “That answer your question?”
Pam allowed herself a gentle squeeze before slipping her hand away. “Don't tempt me, Nate.”
“Are you tempted?” She rolled her head around on her shoulders and ran her tongue along the skin just below his sleeve. A chuckle rumbled low in his chest and worked its way up and out of his throat. “You're bad, Pam. You make it hard for me to remember that you're still his. How do you suppose it's so easy for us to fall in bed together, then hop back out and carry on like nothing happened?”
“A true sign of friendship?”
“Or treachery,” he replied smoothly. “Idle minds are the devil's playground. Speaking of which . . .” He reached around and stuck a finger in his back pocket, came out with a half-smoked joint and put it between his lips. The rest of the world had moved on to smoking blunts, but he still preferred smoking his weed the old fashioned way.
“You lured me all the way out here to get me high and relive the past, Nate?” She laughed and watched him light the joint with a disposable lighter.
“Don't think the idea didn't cross my mind. Think anybody would notice if I conveniently left town the same day you did? This is premium Jamaican shit here, P. Pace yourself.” He took one, then two drags off the joint and passed it to Pam.
“Now who's bad? How'd you smuggle this shit past customs?”
“Did you hear me a few minutes ago, talking about treachery?”
They were quiet as they passed the joint back and forth between them. When Nate was satisfied that Pam was good and high, he tossed the roach in the creek and shifted in the grass until they were facing each other. Her eyes were tight and the silly grin on her face matched the one on his.
“You are fucked-up,” he said and burst out laughing.
Pam thought the sight of him laughing was funny and she joined in, laughing so hard her stomach hurt and tears ran down her cheeks. “Where was this weed when we were kids?”
“The grown folks had it all,” Nate predicted. “Keeping it a secret and shit. Tell me what you know about Miles Dixon, Pam.”
Pam's brows met in the middle of her forehead. Genuine confusion was on her face as she locked eyes with Nate. “Whoever he is, I don't know him. Did he say I knew him?”
“I think he might've introduced himself to you as David. David Dixon. Sound familiar?”
“Oh, yeah. He's Moira's stepson. You know him?”
“I know of him,” Nate said carefully. He was fucked up too and concentrating on keeping his thoughts in logical order. “He's the dude that owns all those newspapers and gossip magazines, P. He writes those tell-all books about celebrities.”
Pam was shocked. She leaned forward and put her face close to his. “Who do you think he's going to write about next?”
For a second, Nate was speechless. He stared into her tight eyes and caught his breath. Then he threw his head back and laughed hard. “Pam listen to me,” he said, still giggling. “That motherfucker followed you here to gather information about you for his next book. It's about you, baby.”
“
What
?”
“Yeah. You remember Humpy?” He was referring to James Humphries, a boy they'd hung around with a few times in high school. It took Pam a few seconds to connect the dots in her head, but she finally nodded. “Apparently, he dropped a dime on you about some of the shit we did back in high school and from what I understand, Dixon's been going around town asking folks what you were like back then.”
She was silent a long time, soaking in the ramifications of what Nate was telling her. Then she dropped her head in her hands and moaned disgustedly. “I met him for lunch a few times. I thought he was nice and he's Moira's stepson, so I didn't see the harm in it. What the fuck was I thinking? I should've known better than to think he didn't want something from me.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing much. He already knew about Jose, but that's about it. I guess now he knows whatever fat-ass Humpy told him. I told you that cocksucker was no good,” she snapped and punched Nate in his thigh. She had never particularly cared for Humpy.
“You did and we cut him loose before he could get too comfortable, so fuck him. How do you want to handle Dixon?”
“Wait a minute, let me see if I have this straight. David, I mean
Miles
, followed me here and pretended to be friendly with me so he could pump me for information. Is that what you're telling me, Nate? That he intends to write one of those cheesy-ass books about me?”
“That's the understanding I got.”