“OKAY, GUYS,” MOLLY SAID finally, leaning wearily against a car door, “that’s it. This is as clean as we’re going to get it. It’ll probably be days before it dries out enough for anyone to sit in it, but at least it’s clean.” She glanced with tired eyes around the lantern-lit group of wet, muddy, rag-wielding helpers. They were a mess. With the exception of Tony, who had arrived at the last minute and hadn’t helped much, they were all filthy. “I can’t thank you guys enough.”
“Sure you can,” Tony said with a lazy smile. “You can treat us all to subs at Vinnie’s. Like, right now. I’m starving.”
“All that work stir up your appetite?” Donovan asked sarcastically. “Amazing that you never got a drop of mud on your shirt.”
“Neatness counts,” Tony quipped, his smile widening to a grin. “You should have been more careful.” He turned his attention to Molly again. “So, how about it? You feel like rewarding us for working our fingers to the bone?”
What Molly wanted was a hot bath.
“You may look okay,” she told Tony, “but the rest of us look like we’ve been mud wrestling. No self-respecting restaurant would let us inside.”
“So?” Tony shrugged. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll wait.”
“He’s right,” Hank echoed, dropping his rag into one of the pails. “We deserve a dinner break.”
“Great!” Donovan looked pleased, his round face creasing in a smile. He and Ava began to gather together the cleaning equipment. “I haven’t been to Vinnie’s in ages,” Ava said excitedly, and Donovan nodded. “Me, either. I hear he’s got a new video game.”
Dana, Tommie, and Ken arrived then, and although they hadn’t really helped with the clean-up, Molly invited them along. She figured this would be a great chance to get acquainted.
She locked her car and they left to get cleaned up. The four who had arrived last and didn’t need to change went on to Vinnie’s to hold a booth.
For Molly it was a huge relief to leave the parking lot and its hidden, watching eyes.
That relief lasted only until, well-scrubbed and dressed in clean clothes, she and Phoebe joined the others at Vinnie’s. There, at a table in the center of the room, sat Norman, surrounded by a handful of people Molly didn’t recognize.
Every muscle in her body tensed. Unwilling to create a nasty scene and spoil what could be a good time, she fought back the impulse to ask Norman about the mess in her car.
The smile he sent her was completely innocent. And she saw no mud on his jeans or denim jacket.
What was he doing here at Vinnie’s, a place he’d told her he hated? “A pizza place that close to campus doesn’t even have to have good food,” he’d said with his usual contempt. “They know people will go there even if the pizza tastes like cardboard and the soda is flat.”
So why was he there? Sitting at a round table in the middle of the hot, crowded, noisy room, regarding her with the sly half-smile she’d once thought was a sign of shyness. But she knew better now. If Norman Oakes was shy, his table wouldn’t be crowded with people. There were at least ten, sitting at a table meant for six.
If he had been spying on them in the parking lot, if those had been his eyes she’d felt on her back, he could have overheard Tony’s comment about Vinnie’s. Maybe he’d gone there to continue his watching.
What did he want from her?
She had no proof that Norman or anyone else from the Others was responsible for the mud. And she didn’t want it to be true. She hated to think she could have been so wrong about someone.
It could have been a prank, a nasty joke perpetrated on an unsuspecting freshman.
“Why is that guy staring at you?” Tony asked abruptly, his eyes on Norman.
“I don’t know,” Molly said, trying to sound nonchalant. She quickly changed the subject.
Their food had just arrived at the table when, to Molly’s horror, Norman ambled over to their booth and bent over her.
“Molly,” he asked with what seemed like sincere concern. “You look upset. Is something wrong?”
Molly’s face burned with heat. “Well, I …”
“What happened to your boots, Norman?” Phoebe asked suddenly, in a voice as cold and hard as marble. “Been playing in the river with the other river rats?”
“Whoa!” Tony murmured under his breath, his eyes widening as he looked at Phoebe with surprise and, Molly suspected, admiration.
Molly hadn’t even noticed Norman’s boots.
Looking down, she saw that they were caked with dried mud. If he had filled her car with mud and changed his clothes, he’d forgotten about the boots.
“I was hiking along the river path,” Norman answered, cool as ever. “Muddy down there.”
Hank said nothing. But a perplexed look on his face told Molly he was wondering how she knew Norman.
“So, Mol,” Norman went on, “how was your first afternoon at the magazine? You planning to stay on there?”
Was there an implied threat in the question? Or was she imagining it?
She couldn’t be sure.
She forced herself to lift her head, look up into Norman’s pale eyes.
She saw nothing in his eyes but innocence. “Yes,” she answered, tearing her eyes away from Norman’s. “I guess I am.”
“No kidding. Going to be one of the Special People, are you? Get your creative juices flowing, become a member of the campus literati?”
This time, she didn’t answer him. What was the point?
“Oh, by the way, Mol. Meeting tomorrow night. Come if you want to.” Then Norman added, “Should have introduced me to your new pals, girl. Maybe you could use a refresher course in manners.” With a casual wave toward a scarlet-faced Molly, he turned and left the restaurant.
The group at his table immediately got up and followed him.
“Mutant!” Phoebe exclaimed in disgust when the door had swung shut upon Norman and his followers.
“Who is that guy?” Hank asked, his eyes on Molly.
Tony answered for her. “Norman Oakes. A flake. Heads a group he started on campus. Calls it the Others. They all stick together pretty much … sort of like a band of thieves. I think he sees himself as a modern-day Robin Hood, with his little band of merry men … and women.”
Molly chewed on her lower lip, her eyes on the table. She had almost been a part of that group they all obviously thought was weird. And Norman had just announced to everyone that she was welcome at their meeting. After she’d already told Tony she didn’t hang out with him.
Hank’s frown remained in place. “You belong to this group?” he asked Molly.
“No,” she said quickly. That was the truth, whatever Norman thought. “I … I was thinking maybe I’d write a story about them. I could even add it to my ‘Solitaire’ article. They’re a fringe group, out of the mainstream. I thought it might be interesting. So I checked out a couple of their meetings. I guess Norman got the wrong impression. I wasn’t planning to join.”
Tony looked skeptical. But Hank said, “So, what is their story?”
Molly felt Phoebe’s eyes on her. “No story. Their meetings are pretty boring.” Well … except for a bizarre initiation that took place at the state park in the dark of night, when firelight turned all eyes to amber. No need to mention that. They’d all look at her as if she were out of her mind.
And Hank would take away her lovely new job before she’d written a word.
“Anyone at this table interested in classical music?” Phoebe asked then, quickly changing the subject. “Schubert, for instance? If a lot of people show up at my recital, maybe I’ll get my picture in the Turin Falls Observer.” Grinning at Hank, she added, “That would be so much more impressive than a little literary magazine, don’t you think?”
The conversation switched to music, just as Phoebe had intended. There was no more talk of Norman Oakes or the Others.
Molly should have had a good time. Sitting with interesting, fun people in the crowded, lively restaurant, should have been great. People came over to say hi to Tony and Hank or Phoebe and included Molly in their greeting. A smile, a nod, a “Hey there, how’s it going?” as if no one found it surprising that Molly Keene was sitting with these well-known, talented people. As if she’d always done it.
But a recurring vision of Norman’s face kept getting in her way.
She hated Norman for ruining everything.
Well, that was fair. Because Norman just might hate her, too. If he’d put that mud in her car … you had to hate someone a lot to do something like that.
She couldn’t be sure. But she had a strong feeling that Norman wasn’t as ready to give up on her as he pretended. He wasn’t ready to let her leave the Others.
Not without a struggle.