The drive to Innocence took around four hours, with a break in the middle for breakfast. Charlie had set off early that morning, after leaving a note for Kate about having to get out of the city for the day. She felt like the lowest of the low for lying to her friend, but the more Kate knew, the more she’d have to explain.
The more people she’d have to justify this wild goose chase to.
She drove past the sign declaring Innocence about eleven o’clock. The weather was considerably better than it had been for the past month, sun beating back the wash of clouds and painting everything in the colors of spring. It seemed like a pretty town with plenty of local businesses, one busy diner, and charming brick houses surrounding the town square. Flowers bloomed in pots and splashed color onto a gray street as Charlie nosed her rented car into a space.
Stepping out, she inhaled the smell of roasting beans from a nearby coffee shop and slung her satchel across her body. Best to try the local gossip spot first, which was usually a coffee shop or diner. Since she’d already had breakfast, she locked the car and strode into The Coffee Bean. The smell of hot, buttery pastry and rich coffee assaulted her, the sounds of jazz in the background, plates clinking and machines gushing out water adding to the ambience.
She waited in the line, wondering how to play it. Should she come out and ask, or play it more low-key? The straightforward approach had always worked for her in the past, even if this was a supersecret covert mission. Her lips curled in nervous amusement at herself.
When she got to the front, she ordered a cappuccino and casually leaned on the countertop. “I’m actually here about a glass artist I met down in Charlotte a couple years ago. Natalie Pevinsey?”
“Oh, sure, all the folks around here know Natalie.” The pretty blonde in her twenties in a black uniform cast a friendly smile at Charlie as she mixed her drink. “She’s got a real hand with glass. That’s hers.” She nodded to a small piece by the cash register.
Charlie smoothed a finger down the hand-sized piece. It was like a living flame, clear until the very center where a vivid red streaked from the heart. “It’s gorgeous.”
“She has talent,” the girl agreed, sprinkling cocoa powder on the top of Charlie’s drink. She slipped a plastic lid on the takeout cup. “She makes little things like this for all the local merchants for hardly anything. I swear, if she got herself to New York, she could make thousands. Instead, she’s happy just to hibernate in her cabin.”
“Cabin?”
“She lives in one of the cabins on the outer limits. Just head down Main Street and take a left. There’s a hill that’s crowded with forest, and if you keep on that road for about two miles, you can’t miss her place.”
“Thanks.” Charlie paid for her coffee, giving a generous tip, and walked out of the coffee shop. Small towns weren’t exaggerated in books, she thought as she slipped back in her car. They really were big on chatter.
* * *
And good at directions. At exactly 2.2 miles, her car came to a stop outside a cabin more the size of a house than what Charlie had been imagining. One story, it sprawled over the acreage, blending into the wildness surrounding it so she could almost believe it was as much a part of the land as the garden planted by human hands to the right. A washing line swayed in the breeze with some underwear and a few sweaters pegged on it.
Roses climbed around the porch, a rocking chair perched upon it, a welcome mat just in front of the sturdy wooden door. It was the picture of country escape, something Charlie, a city rat at heart, could appreciate but not crave.
As she stepped out of the car, a golden retriever ran from out back, barking as its tail wagged furiously.
“Ah, hello, big dog.” Charlie put out a hand and hoped it wouldn’t get bitten off. “Good dog.”
“Othello.” A woman’s voice floated into the air, frustration and amusement blending together in one lilting tone. “Come back here, you scoundrel.”
Long legs rounded the corner and the woman from the photograph emerged, thirty years or so older. She wore jeans so worn they were tissue thin and a checked shirt the color of violets. Dirt smudged her knees and she held a gardening fork in one hand.
She stopped short as she saw Charlie. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
“I just drove up.”
“I hope Othello didn’t scare you.” The woman—Natalie—slapped her leg in a command for the dog to come to her side. Othello whimpered and slunk to its owner’s legs, beseeching Charlie with his eyes.
Charlie laughed. “He’s a charmer.”
“He thinks he is,” Natalie agreed with a smile. “Are you lost?”
Charlie hesitated. “Actually, I’m here to see Natalie Pevinsey.”
“That’s me. What can I do for you?”
She went for broke, twisting her hand around her satchel’s strap. “Did you win a wish in the lottery in 1976? Are you Natalie Peckinsee?”
The woman’s eyes cooled. “I’ll have to ask you to leave,” she said, taking a step back.
“Are you?”
“Please, I don’t want to talk about this.”
Othello, sensing the atmosphere had changed, whimpered, looking from one woman to the other.
Charlie dug in. “It’s important.”
“I’m sorry, but you have to go.” Natalie turned her back on Charlie and strode to the house. She’d just reached the door when Charlie called out her name.
“Natalie, I’m Charlie Donahue.” Charlie took a few steps forward. “I won a wish in the lottery four weeks ago, but refused to go through with it.”
“Why are you here?” Natalie’s voice was low.
Charlie wet her lips. “I guess I’m hoping you’ll tell me what happened to you.”
“Why?”
“My mom wished for beauty when I was little and it changed her. I’ve not trusted wishes since.” Charlie shrugged. “I’m here because your wish is missing from WFY’s records. I’m here because I think you might be able to prove that what I suspect is true.”
Natalie half turned. “What do you suspect?”
“That Genies aren’t as great as everyone thinks. That their wishes destroy lives. That they’re responsible for the bad things that happen after.”
The breeze blew past Charlie and lifted her hair as she waited for Natalie to speak. Her reaction was both promising and worrying. What could have happened to make the woman so averse to talking?
Natalie finally spoke, her voice humming with unspoken questions. “You’d better come inside.”