What Are Friends For? by Patricia McLinn

Author:Patricia McLinn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2006-11-13T05:00:00+00:00

The dispatcher’s call interrupted an entirely uneventful half shift filling in for Benny. Darcie practically sobbed out her thanks to Corine for the distraction. Between thoughts about her mother and thoughts about Zeke, Darcie had been about to go nuts.

“Mildred Magnus saw lights on in the high school again. She says they’re not moving this time,” Corine reported. “That’s got her real rattled.”

Ever since the paper had printed some legend about the hill the high school was built on having once been a campground for Native Americans, Mildred had decided spirits of the dead came back to light their campfires.

Very adaptable spirits, apparently, since they used electric lights.

Darcie acknowledged the call and drove across town.

The orange sports car was parked by the side entrance to the 1970s addition to the venerable original building of Drago High School. Great.

It was almost certain Zeke was the source of Mildred’s lights. But almost wasn’t certain enough to make Darcie forget caution.

It wouldn’t be the first time Zeke had slipped into the building after hours. She could think of at least three times when Mr. Grandhier had refused to let Zeke do some experiment in eleventh grade that Zeke had his heart set on. Back then, Darcie had volunteered—like a sap—to be his lookout.

This time she would roust him out. She would have preferred wrestling with a rabid dog. It would have posed less threat to her emotional well-being.

The lab door was ajar. Light arrowed across the floor. She drew a breath, and eased the door wider.

Zeke sat at his old seat at the lab table, a battery-powered lantern beside him. He seemed to be staring at the huge poster of the Periodic Table of the Elements.

“Hi, Darcie,” he said without turning.

She stifled surprise. “I didn’t think you heard me.”

“I didn’t. I smelled you.”

She was not going to ask what on earth he meant by that, or why he sounded so almighty pleased with himself. She was here to do her job.

“You’ve frightened some of the neighbors. Light bobbing around the hallways has fired up overactive imaginations. You need to leave, Zeke.”

He didn’t move. He seemed weary. She wanted to close the distance between them and stroke his hair.

It made her next words staccato. “It’s late. Your mother’ll be worried.”

“Bingo night.” His mouth twisted. “I remembered this time. But I’m not used to anybody keeping track of me, except my assistant, and she’s used to me working all night.”

“Is that what you were doing, Zeke? Working?”

“No. Trying to remember that once upon a time I did get some work done.” He spun around on the stool to face her. “I feel like I’ve forgotten how to work. When I’m not smothered in lilacs, Ma’s letting a cast of thousands troop through the house. Letting? What am I saying? She’s practically dragging them in off the street.”

“You need to take a break.” So they weren’t going to talk about what had happened this afternoon. That was good. Better than good. She was on duty. Even if she’d wanted to talk about it, which she didn’t, she couldn’t.

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