The electronics crew arrived right at five that morning and Gavin and I checked their IDs when they drove in. We also went through their trucks with a fine toothed comb, making sure there weren't any weapons. Phil and Glen were out in the yard helping us before it was all over, checking over the luggage and equipment now scattered across the circular drive. Everybody seemed to be who they said they were, so Gavin and I went to find our beds. Fleetingly, I wondered if he went back to the kitchen to eat or if he had something in the fridge or the pantry. I seldom got into either to check. I did drink hot tea now and then, just to appear normal at meetings held in the kitchen. It felt almost normal, too. Of course, I'd excuse myself and go to the bathroom to get rid of it later.
The van felt big and bulky to me as I drove it toward Barnes and Noble, out by Quail Springs Mall. First, I planned to check out all the new releases. It had been months since I'd stepped inside a bookstore just to browse. Someone tried to strike up a conversation with me from the moment I walked inside the store, so I attempted to ignore the man while I made my way through the new paperback racks. He wasn't giving up that easily.
"She's book shopping, not date shopping," Gavin dropped a hand on the man's shoulder, forcing the man to back away quickly.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, reading the back flap of a mystery and deliberately refusing to look at him.
"I enjoy reading too, when I have time," he said. "I've read that one already," he tapped the book I was holding. "Not as good as some of the author's others, but still a good read."
"Ah," I said. "So, what would you recommend?" I looked up at him now, I couldn't help it. "So I won't waste my money." I watched his face; he so seldom had any sort of expression on it. That didn't keep me from thinking about how nice he looked or anything.
"This one," he lifted another mystery by a not so well known author. "The story is more original than the other."
"All right, but if I don't like it, I'm holding you responsible," I said.
"Feel free. If you can make me feel guilt, I will be much surprised."
"That must be nice, to live in a guilt-free world," I observed.
"I said if you can make me feel guilt. I didn't say I didn't feel it."
"Ooh, excuse me. Tarzan not feel guilt Jane heaps upon him," I said. He turned his head but not before I saw a corner of his mouth quirk a little.
I picked up the book he'd recommended and then went wandering around. Gavin went his own way after a bit, which was what I was hoping he'd do. Setting my stack onto the registers about an hour later, I chatted with the cashier while pulling money out of my pocket. I'd left my purse behind, opting instead for stuffing cash and my fake driver's license in the pocket of my jeans. The cashier bagged up my books and I went out to the van, dropping the bag onto the passenger seat.
My next stop was a grocery store, where I bought a mixed bouquet of flowers before heading out to Rose Hill Cemetery. Don and I had purchased two plots five years before. It was likely I'd never be buried in mine now, if that vampires turn to ash thing were true. The headstone had already been inscribed with Don's information; I saw it as soon as I climbed out of the van. The gravesite was near the narrow road running through the cemetery, covered still in a pile of raw Oklahoma dirt and brittle dead flowers. I hugged myself, realizing just how short a time had passed since Don's death. Spring was still teasing and barely making an appearance. There were tight buds on nearby trees and just the hint of green on the ground surrounding the grave, but most of it was still brown grass. Tears fell as I cleaned away old flowers and debris.
"Here you go, honey," I laid the fresh flowers on Don's grave and sat down beside it. Even though it was quite dark with no moon, I could see perfectly well and couldn't help staring at my name, inscribed on the other side of the double headstone. Only my date of death was missing. I wondered if eventually they'd put the same date of death on my side that Don's carried—January fourth.
"I'm sorry I didn't make it to the funeral," I said. "But then you probably know why. I sure hope your brother honored your wishes. And I'm sorry I didn't realize you'd already left me that day. Sorry that the doctor had to tell me instead of my knowing it, like I should have." I wiped my cheeks. "I haven't mourned you properly, either." A sob accompanied those words. "Honey, I'm in such a terrible place now and I don't know what the hell I'm doing," I said when I could speak coherently again. "It's like one of those awful dreams, when you find out there's a test in class that you didn't study for and you don't know any of the answers." I sniffled for a little while longer.
"Anyway, I wanted to come by and say hello," I went on after a bit. "I hope you're somewhere listening. I don't know when or if I'll make it back." I was wiping my cheeks on a sleeve as I made my way to the van, wishing I'd bought some tissues. I needed them now.
* * *
Gavin wished he hadn't followed her. He heard every private word she uttered, and it was sad. Horribly sad. He waited for half an hour after she'd gone to climb into Winkler's Jaguar; Winkler had asked for it to be brought up with the security team. Davis had lent him the keys after Gavin said he needed something smaller than one of the vans. Lissa would have noticed one of the vans more easily than the low to the ground Jaguar. Cursing softly, Gavin put the car in gear and drove toward Nichols Hills.
"Honored One, our secondary is being threatened by other factions and security is tight and quite heavy, now. Additional forces have arrived and our primary is hemmed in. She has developed new skills in slipping away for her meals. Even I am failing to detect her at times and am at a loss to explain this. I will keep you informed to the best of my ability.
G."
She was a ghost. She barely spoke to anyone now, Gavin noted as he watched her slip inside her bedroom after they'd finished their shift. It was a Sunday morning, early, around five-thirty or so. He heard the shower running and knew she was cleaning up. Winkler was also wandering the house like a specter when he wasn't working—Davis informed Gavin that Winkler was working well into the night most of the time. Gavin had no idea if that meant the software was coming along or if problems had developed.
* * *
"I want to go out to eat." I hadn't seen Winkler in days, yet he now stood before me, declaring that he was starving and wanting to go out for a meal.
"Where do you want to go?" I asked. Winkler was dressed in a white, long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs folded back a time or two, black jeans and black cowboy boots with silver tips. Well, weren't we western tonight?