Wide Open by Deborah Coates

Wide Open by Deborah Coates

Author:Deborah Coates
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-03-13T06:00:00+00:00


19

Boyd was talking to one of the mechanics when Hallie came back outside. The mechanic was a tall, skeletally thin man with shoulder-length hair, scraggly at the ends. He looked familiar to Hallie, but she didn’t know or couldn’t remember who he was. Boyd and the mechanic stood in a narrow slice of shade cast by the propane storage, and Hallie could see a ghost—turned away from her so that she couldn’t see its face—hovering at the mechanic’s elbow. As Hallie watched, the ghost stretched a finger out and touched the man’s arm just below his rolled-up sleeve. The mechanic shrugged, like flicking off a fly. It was the first time Hallie had seen anyone but herself respond to a ghost. She approached, intrigued.

“Hey.” The mechanic greeted her, two fingers tapping his temple, like a half-assed salute. That gesture was familiar, too, a reminder of rodeos or cattle auctions or some completely different context from grease and cars and gasoline. The ghost drifted between them, its face still turned away.

“Never expected to see you again, Hallie Michaels,” the mechanic said. “Sorry it had to be under the present circumstances.”

Good Lord, his voice—baritone deep, had been since eighth grade, she remembered. He’d been big in high school, though—tall, like he still was, but broad shoulders, barrel chest, star halfback on the football team, three years ahead of her. “Jake Javinovich.” She shoved her hands deep into the front pockets of her jeans. “Never expected to see you here,” she said. She’d expected him to—well, she didn’t know—to be a graduate of South Dakota State, to be selling cars or insurance or shares in a gold mine in Rapid City or Omaha. She expected him to want big things and settle for small ones, all the time telling himself that what he had was what big was all about.

Jake shrugged. “Yeah. S’a good place here. I always liked cars, you know.” He tilted his head. “I was sorry to hear about the fire. On top of … well, everything,” he said. “You and your dad, though, you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Hallie said. “It’s all fine.”

Jake nodded. “There were a bunch of fires like that, oh … six, eight months ago. Toby vanDerWal’s garage over in Thorsen, that church just north of Old Prairie City, and that old school out past the Seven Mile.” He nodded at Boyd. “You remember,” he said. “They thought those kids from Box Elder were out here setting things on fire for fun. But they never did prove anything.”

“Huh,” Hallie said. She looked at Boyd, who seemed intensely interested in the toe of his left boot. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“Jake, look,” Boyd said. “If you see that truck again, let me know.” He said it in the way people said things if they thought the other person had gone on long enough. He said it like saying, Someone’s at the door, or My other phone is ringing, or My god, look at the time.

Hallie scowled at him.

“You ready?” he asked. “We should— It’s past eight.



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