“Your mom. Brother. Hamster. Invisible friend. They can wait. I know family is the most important thing but so is hanging out and letting off steam and drinking with your boss. Especially drinking with your boss.”

Nem laughed and hoped she sounded sincere. She’d used most of the excuses she had in her armory and was now on repeats.

Friends, lovers, anyone or anything could not be allowed to grow too close. For their sake. After Greg, her mother, and her school mates, she couldn’t say she didn’t understand the risks. Her control and power had grown, yes, but relationships were always a wonky one-way road with a destination of which she couldn’t be sure.

Diane persisted this time. Well, she usually persisted but she was far more fervent.

“When are you going to say, ‘count me in,’ Miss? You need to get out. You’re young and pretty. Something I aspire to but for some damn reason each birthday I keep getting older. I won’t stop asking because I care about you.”

And there was the problem, all wrapped up in that one sentence.

The woman did care, and while Nem thought the world of Diane, in her world that wasn’t healthy. A sudden realization hit her: things needed to stop right here. She loved working with books and had begun to value Diane’s friendship, against her better judgment. But she didn’t need anyone caring about her ever again. The thought of leaving very nearly broke her heart, the heart she’d tried to harden and encase in steel for just this reason.

“Is it a yes or pester-me-next-week no?”

Diane’s vibrant pink do, backlit by the store’s internal lights, glowed angelic-like with a glistening, wonderful sparkle. She was a good person and Nem felt gratitude for her kindness and making her laugh with her smart quips on customers and authors. Now she had a decision to make and she knew, even before she considered it, which way she must go.

“I’ll take the we’ll-get-back-to-you box, okay?”

Diane folded her arms and waggled her head side-to-side. “Listen, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re keeping a deep dark secret. You know you can tell me, honey. My lips are sealed.”

She ran a hand with her fingers pressed together across her mouth.

“Nothing to hide,” Nem said, with a limp smile, already realizing the time at Bountiful Books and her friendship with Diane were nearly at an end. “I’m an open book.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” replied Diane. “You’re more a mystery.”

46

William had learned many things watching Orelia; much of it left him wondering what the hell he had actually discovered. Along with this slight progress with events surrounding the Captain’s death, his enthusiasm for amateur detective work had returned. Three days more of surveillance and he felt he was drawing closer to something. What that something was exactly, he couldn’t tell yet, but a pattern had emerged.

Each day now she followed the same morning routine. (She must have been taking a vacation after Morris’ water mishap.) Travel to a new part of the city—well, new to him. Who knew with her? The trip was at least forty minutes from her house by bus or train.