The meteorologist said the heat index would rise to one hundred by early afternoon. The more training I finished in the morning, the better. I got up early and was on the bike by six AM, heading down back roads to get in some variety.
Today’s goal was to improve endurance.
After a couple of moderate hills and a straight stretch through some open fields, I was past the point where the muscles protested. Plenty hydrated. No cramps in sight. I was in the zone.
My thoughts drifted to the scene at Whisper Falls. After a couple of days of thinking it over, I had a pretty solid theory. The whole thing had been some kind of elaborate illusion. A good one, too. The girl, the costume, the disappearing act—all had to be a new type of remote-controlled computer technology, like seriously realistic animation projected on the back side of the waterfall.
But who was the mastermind?
There was no way it would’ve been Alexis. If she’d plotted revenge, it would’ve been cleaner, meaner, and more obvious. And she would’ve never involved Susanna. Alexis didn’t like to share the spotlight with other girls.
Keefe? He was as determined as I was to place first in our age division at the race in July. He was capable of trying to weight the odds in his favor. Carlton might’ve been right. Maybe Keefe hired Susanna. Not that something like this would gain the advantage he hoped for. It would just piss me off enough I’d try even harder to beat him.
However, there were three major problems with Keefe as mastermind that I couldn’t overlook.
First, the timing. Two months in advance was insane. It gave me plenty of opportunity to shake off the prank.
Secondly, the girl. Susanna was an odd choice for an actress. She’d been a statue with hardly any change in emotion.
Lastly, no way was Keefe smart enough to figure out the water. That was a great trick—the way it felt pouring over my skin. Slick. Warm. Much warmer than creek water should be. And it had lifted me twice and returned me to the rock wrapped in a tingling cocoon.
The water was not faked.
A car whizzed past me, so close its side mirror almost brushed my hand. While I’d been lost in my thoughts, traffic had picked up on the back roads. There were some aggressive drivers today. Without bike lanes, I couldn’t afford to be distracted. I had to focus.
Today’s goals were endurance and avoiding jerk drivers.
Two dangerous close calls later, I circled back toward home. But instead of taking the most direct route, I headed for the greenway and Whisper Falls. Might as well check to see if there were any signs of a prank.
It was quiet this early. A light rain had fallen overnight. I slipped down the muddy trail and locked my bike against a tree. The waterfall looked postcard perfect.
Heart pounding, I edged along the rock bridge behind the falls from my side to hers. Standing in the same spot where my mind imagined she’d stood, I saw nothing unusual. The rocks within the cave were undisturbed, the moss heavy and green. No one had walked here recently, not even a crazy girl with dorky clothes and a rare-but-beautiful smile.
On impulse, I yanked off my gloves, stuffed them into my pocket, and slowly poked a hand through the water. No sparks. No glittery coating. It was wet, transparent, and normal.
I withdrew my hand, feeling stupid. This was Whisper Falls. I’d been here hundreds of times. It was water pouring down. Plain, old, boring water. Not some bizarre portal to the past.
Why had I come here again?
I climbed on my bike and headed home, done with the falls and the girl. The scene hadn’t been a prank. And it couldn’t have been real.
So what had it been?
This was the first time I could remember wishing a bang to the head had caused hallucinations.
* * *
After showering and changing, I pounded down the stairs to the kitchen. My mother stood at the island, dishing up a plate. She handed it to me. “I made you breakfast.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Two scrambled eggs. Whole wheat toast. Peach jam. Fresh blueberries. It was the perfect balance of protein, carbs, and delicious.
Honestly, this surprised me. I talked about my ideal training breakfast occasionally. I just hadn’t realized she listened. Maybe she was emerging from the empty-nest thing, and it was my turn to be adored.
I shoveled it down. She watched from the island.
“Mark?”
Her voice had a hesitant tone, as if she were about to ask me something I wouldn’t like. Which meant this breakfast came with strings attached. The question was, how big?
“Yeah?”
“Your grandparents could use some help with their yard.”
That seemed simple enough. Was there more of a catch? I finished a mouthful before answering. “I talked to Granddad yesterday. He didn’t mention anything about needing help.”
“He didn’t ask. Your grandmother did.”
Maybe Mom wanted me to spy on her parents. She worried they were too old to live at the lake house on their own. It sure didn’t seem like it to me. “When should I go over?”
“Soon.”
Vague was good. If she left it up to me, she couldn’t get mad if it took me a few days. I definitely couldn’t do it today. My schedule included an afternoon training ride. And if there was any daylight left, I might take another look around the falls.
The Granddad Rescue could be Friday, which would give me plenty of time to warn Gran I was coming. Which would give her plenty of time to fix my favorite cake. Yeah.
“Sure, Mom. Mowing and everything else?”
“Just everything else. You’ll insult your grandfather if you mow…”
Granddad would be insulted no matter what I did.
“…and don’t take any pay.”
I looked up from my plate. She had to be kidding, right? Did she honestly believe her parents wouldn’t force cash into my hand? Or that I would refuse to take it? Really, one of the best parts of having grandparents was how much it pissed off my mom when they spoiled me.
I smiled. “I promise not to ask for money.”
“Good. If you see anything—” She cut off in mid-sentence when her cell phone rang. She snatched it up, read the caller ID, smiled, and answered. “Hi,” she said in the low, happy tone she used with my dad. She hurried out of the kitchen into the dining room.
While I finished my breakfast, I could hear her going through a pattern of speaking and silence. By the time I put my plate in the dishwasher, she had returned to the kitchen.
“Here,” she said, handing me the phone. “Your father wants to talk to you.”
“Hey,” I said, “what’s up?”
Dad’s voice was quiet. “Can your mother hear you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Go somewhere else.”
I took the stairs two at a time and went to my bedroom. “Okay, I’m alone.”
“How has your mother seemed recently?”
“A little edgy. Quiet.” Exactly as I would expect without Dad or Marissa around.
“One of her favorite patients died.”
“Wow. She didn’t mention that to me.” When my mom took the hospice nursing job, she’d said she was a good fit because she was so calm and objective. Maybe it was turning out to be harder than she anticipated.
“Your mom is pretty upset. Can you take her out to eat somewhere tonight and just hang out?”
“Sure, Dad.”
“Thanks. I’ll pay you back.”
“Not necessary.” I hung up and walked back downstairs to hand the phone to my mom. But I didn’t ask about dinner right away. Too obvious. I could call her later.
Time to change my plans. Tonight, instead of visiting the falls, I’d investigate the girl online. If she ever showed up again, I’d be ready.