LITMIR.BIZ

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and Hudson’s tall, unmistakable form was backlit by one of the large windows of the restaurant.

      “I’d like to talk sometime,” Renee said, her briefcase swinging from one hand as she approached.

      This was unusual. “About Jessie?” Using her remote, Becca unlocked the car.

      “Yeah.”

      “I didn’t really know her.” The vision seemed to shimmer in her brain, daring her to tell Renee about it, but Becca kept her mouth firmly shut.

      “You knew her as well as most of us. Probably more than her parents did.”

      Becca saw Evangeline sliding into the front seat of Zeke’s vintage Mustang. “Fine. You want to meet this weekend?”

      “I’m going to the beach tomorrow, for a couple of days,” Renee said, glancing nervously back at the front of the building where Jarrett, The Third, and Mitch had gathered. The Third was already on his cell phone, Mitch was lighting up, and Jarrett looked across the lot, his gaze zeroing in on Becca and Renee. There was something in his intent look that brought goose bumps to her skin, a hardness that she hadn’t remembered from St. Elizabeth’s. “Listen,” Renee was saying, “I didn’t bring it up with all of them, but my husband Tim and I are having some problems…”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be. And I’m lying. It’s not just problems. We’re separated, and I’ve been spending quite a bit of time at the coast. Alone. You know, trying to put things in perspective.” She looked away from the men gathered under the portico. “Maybe that’s why I started thinking about Jessie again. Unresolved issues. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about some ideas I had.”

      “Just me, or all of us?”

      “Everyone, I guess. I just thought we could kick this off.”

      There was something more going on that Becca didn’t understand, but it hardly mattered since she’d already agreed to meet with Renee.

      “Why don’t I call you after the weekend?” Renee suggested. “Maybe we can get together. I’ve just got…some theories…kind of odd information…”

      “Odd? How?”

      Renee glanced back toward the group. Mitch, keys in hand, was walking toward an SUV parked not far from Becca’s Jetta. “I’ll call you,” Renee whispered, then hurried to a black Toyota as Mitch tossed his cigarette into the parking lot and climbed into his Tahoe.

      Becca opened her car door and started to slide inside as Hudson, head bent against the rain, headed her way. Hesitating, warring with herself, Becca told herself to let it go. Whatever had happened between them, why he’d never called her again, didn’t matter. It was over. Ancient history.

      Screw that, she thought and stepped out of the Jetta again as Mitch tore out of the lot. I want to talk to him.

      She realized belatedly that Hudson wasn’t making his way to her, but rather toward a dilapidated truck. Too bad. She stepped over an island of scraggly shrubs separating one part of the parking lot from the other and reached him just as he opened the door to the old pickup. His gaze caught and held hers and he moved her way, whether out of politeness or interest, she couldn’t tell.

      Renee drove by, the tires of her Camry spraying water. She barely hesitated at the street, then gunned the accelerator and zipped through the intersection as an amber light turned red.

      “She’s gonna kill herself someday,” Hudson said, his gaze following the path Renee’s Toyota had taken. “Sometimes I think she has a death wish.” He glanced back at Becca and she suddenly felt like an idiot, chasing him down and getting soaked in the process.

      “So what did you think about that?” Becca asked.

      “Felt a little like high school, all over again.”

      “Something I could do without,” Becca said.

      He made a sound of agreement.

      “I guess it was interesting to see everyone again.”

      “Interesting…yeah.” Hudson glanced back. Jarrett and The Third were giving each other a “high sign” good-bye before angling off to their cars. “Not all that different, though.”

      “No,” she agreed, watching as The Third slid behind the wheel of a BMW with vanity plates that read: III. “Some things never change.”

      “Oh, maybe some do.”

      She shot him a sideways glance.

      “Sometimes we change for the better. At least a little bit.”

      “What are you getting at?” she asked.

      He seemed to think over his words a long time, then said suddenly, “I was an idiot twenty years ago. I should have called you. I know it. Just wanted you to know it.”

      “Oh.” She couldn’t hide her surprise. “Well. Actually, it was sixteen years ago. But who’s counting.”

      He smiled. “I was an ass. All caught up in myself and what life had in store for me.” He ran a hand around his neck as the rain started in earnest again, the drizzle giving way to big, thick drops. “If nothing else, at least this whole resurrected mess has given me the chance to tell you that.”

      Becca thought about the baby she’d lost and couldn’t find her breath.

      Hudson looked down at her, as if trying to discern her thoughts. The tension suddenly tightened between them and for a wild moment Becca thought he was actually going to kiss her.

      “Hudson! Wait up!”

      Spell broken, they both looked around to see Tamara dodging raindrops and fighting with an umbrella as she made her way toward them.

      “I’d better go,” Becca murmured.

      “We shouldn’t let so much time go by.” He lifted a hand in good-bye as Tamara arrived and Becca bowed out.

      Call me, she thought but couldn’t say the words. She turned away and hurried toward her car, parked now by itself. The parking lot was nearly deserted with only Hudson’s truck, her Jetta, and a couple of other sedans parked near the front doors.

      Business at the Blue Note was definitely not booming.

      Once inside her Volkswagen, she started the engine. Through the blurry windshield, she watched as Tamara, still fighting with her umbrella, was grinning up at Hudson and shaking her head at her own clumsiness, obviously flirting.

      So what?

      Hudson took the umbrella from Tamara’s hands and held the door of his truck open for her.

      An unwanted and uncalled-for spurt of jealousy sizzled through Becca’s blood.

      “Don’t go there,” she warned herself, but couldn’t help but observe Tamara climbing into the cab, her red hair dark and drooping with rain, her smile as wide as a tropical sunrise.

      Becca, hating herself for noticing, threw the Jetta into reverse and backed out of her parking slot. Hudson was firing up his old Ford as she drove past. She tried not to glance out of the corner of her eye, tamping down the foolish notion that he was still somehow special. The stark reality was that whatever she’d had with Hudson was over—and most of it had been in Becca’s mind anyway.

      The light turned green but Becca didn’t notice, not until a car pulled up behind her and honked. She jumped and stepped hard on the accelerator, putting Blue Note, thoughts of Jessie and Hudson behind her.

      Hudson’s night went from bad to worse.

      As if the debacle at Blue Note hadn’t been bad enough, he’d had to drive Tamara home and make small talk while she tried to flirt with him. After dropping her off at her apartment, he’d returned home to find his foreman at his back door.

      And Grandy

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