Chapter Twelve

 

Raine spent the afternoon after her Paddington trip in a half daze. First Nicole called to tell her that she was not going to make it to class either, so she wouldn't have any class notes. And then Bradley called.

She was wondering when he would call. He had been ominously silent since seeing her at the dinner party. She contemplated not answering but knowing him he would persist in calling her all evening until she answered.

She answered drowsily. "What?"

Bradley chuckled. "You sound grumpy."

"I know you are going to call me to cuss me out," Raine muttered. "I had no idea that you would be at the dinner party the other evening or even that Whitney would be there."

"I am not mad at you," Bradley said pleasantly, "I am just calling to check up on my favorite girl."

Raine sighed. "I am good."

"How is the job at the bookstore going? No problems with Noah?"

"Nope." Raine sighed. "No problems at all."

Except that he thought that she was a home wrecking mistress. Of course she didn't say that out loud. She wouldn't be getting any sympathy from Bradley.

"And he hasn't mentioned me?" Bradley asked.

"Not really." Raine yawned. "What time is it?"

"After eight," Bradley replied. "Garrick asked for your number. Apparently you made an impression on him at the dinner party. You told him that we weren't together anymore and he wanted to know if I would have problems with him dating you. He also wanted to know if you have a thing with Noah. He said the two of you looked chummy."

"Not interested," Raine muttered, "and you are the one who wants to know about me and Noah."

"Well, can't say I am not curious as well." Bradley cleared his throat. "It would be sort of awkward if you and he were a thing."

"It would be awkward for you, and we are not a thing. Now bye."

Bradley chuckled. "Call me if you need me, I'll always be here for you."

He hung up the phone and Raine closed her eyes again. But she had lost the sweet sleep spot. Maybe she should get up and have a shower and then listen to Pastor Marshall her favorite televangelist. She hadn't listened to him since she found out he was Noah's grandfather. It was really a small world. And she had a feeling it was going to get even smaller.

She sighed and got up from the bed. Things would be so much simpler if Noah didn't have Dean's heart and was looking for Cassandra Green and Bradley wasn't married to Whitney Levy and she wasn't connected to the whole lot of them.

So much for escaping the drama and pain that she had gotten sucked into a couple months ago. And so much for thinking that she could escape all the lies and deceit and intrigue by moving house and keeping to herself.

She was involved whether she liked it or not. Whether she denied it or not and she was just as guilty as everyone involved, for Dean's death and for the mess they were all in.

She was not an innocent bystander in all of this.

And there was no laying it to rest with Dean's death. There was no forgiving and forgetting. The last year wasn't going to go away, not with Noah Scarlett sticking his nose in things.

His curiosity was insatiable. And to make matters worse, she liked him. It was shocking how much she liked him actually.

He was a very good-looking, rich guy that had the incredible ability to make her forget that she had vowed to stay away from men like him.

It was just that there was so much more to Noah than looks and money. He was down to earth and witty and intuitive. She had gone to dinner with him at a fancy restaurant and had felt comfortable.

She had carried him to her childhood home and he met her mother and she had not died from embarrassment. Her mother could be a handful for anyone remotely conservative. Noah actually handled her quite well today, perhaps because he was comfortable with people of all sorts.

He was comfortable in his own skin and that relayed itself in the way he handled himself. And that more than anything else was what attracted her to him.

And because of this she was going to have to quit the bookstore after all. She couldn't stay there, working for Noah, seeing him occasionally, lying to him...

The water was icy. She hurriedly showered and then pulled on a nightshirt and turned on the television to Pastor Marshall's church's channel.

She missed the sermon. He was at the point where he was talking directly at the camera.

You! I know you are feeling indecisive about something now but don't make any rash decisions right at this moment. You are going to get down on your knees and you are going to ask the Heavenly Father to guide you. You got that!

Raine raised an eyebrow. The pastor paused as if he was waiting for her to answer.

"Oh...okay." Raine felt compelled to answer out loud.

"Good." Pastor Marshall continued. "Now, be blessed."

The screen cut to the closing credits and then a song came on. She dozed off thinking about what her next move would be.

 

****

 

Noah spent most of his evening in his study poring over Dean Long's diary. He realized that he hadn't eaten for a while but he was too fascinated with his heart donor's life to pay much attention to food.

At first when he started perusing the book he was disappointed with the contents. Dean was more interested in jotting down what happened at sports games than he was in writing about his personal life. And he wrote in a kind of report style as if he were practicing for his articles.

But then he got a bit more personal.

Today Miss Powell asked us to write an essay about our best friend.

Noah looked at the date. It was September 30, 2001.

Dean was about fifteen.

My best friend is a girl. Dean crossed out girl, and put, gorgeous girl, named Raine.

I feel warm inside when I see Raine. We will be best friends forever. There is never going to be a time in my life when I won't have Raine around. I know that and she knows that too.

Noah read through three whole pages that were filled with Raine this and Raine that. And then it was back to sports reporting and then cow counting and then a few pages about his family tree and then an essay about an interesting family member.

His great grandfather and great grandmother had been freedom fighters in the Morant Bay Rebellion. Dean's account of his grandfather's exploits was quite fascinating, so much so that Noah was absorbed in the story. Dean could be a captivating writer if given the right material.

Noah marked the page in the book and then moved on. There was a whole page of a poem written mostly in block letters. It was sad, lacked rhythm and was painful to read.

Noah imagined that this was when he broke up with Raine.

And then he scanned through more pages of sports commentary and gym progression figures. Dean tracked how many weights he bench-pressed; he was competing against a guy named Mikey. He used two columns, one for himself and one for Mikey.

And then there was more bad poetry and then a long well thought out essay on why he was thinking about donating his body to science.

He reasoned that he could help someone if he donated his organs. Judging by the date, Dean had written that when he was nineteen or so.

Noah read through the essay again. Most teenagers did not have organ donation on a list of things to do. He was happy that this guy did though and for a moment he almost closed the book.

He should be thankful for this second chance afforded to him by a very generous and forward thinking young man, not rifling through his book looking for clues to who Cassandra Green was.

But Noah was curious and he never started a book he couldn't finish, so he soldiered through the thick diary and at one o'clock in the morning, when he almost reached the end of the book, he hit jackpot.

He almost missed it too, a hastily written sentence, one line below a long cow milking schedule.

Saw Cassie today, she is looking much different, prettier than usual, she said that Raine was living in Montego Bay and she would be joining her soon.

Noah read the lines over and over again.

Cassie!

Diminutive for Cassandra perhaps?

He scanned through the rest of the book. There was more rambling. He would go through those later.

He found three faded photographs of people he did not recognize. He had to ask Raine about them.

The first one was of a couple and two boys. He figured one of the boys was Dean as a young boy. He couldn't be sure.

The second one was of a married couple—the photo was brown at the edges and the third picture was more modern. It was a picture of a boy in khaki uniform, a girl in blue tunic and white blouse who were grinning at the camera. It took him a moment to realize that the girl was Raine.

He looked at the picture closer. It was her. They were obviously in school. Raine's hair was processed and looked shorter than it was now. Her cheeks were rounder and had that chubby look.

He closed the book.

It wasn't much help except for that line: saw Cassie today...

If that Cassie was Cassandra Green she was from Paddington and she knew Raine. The plot thickened.

He was too keyed up to sleep. He opened his laptop and for the first time in months, he felt the first stirrings of creativity running through him.