Page 102 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
Her cheeks somehow turn even pinker. “None of your business,” she says, and then she tugs me away, heading for the café.
* * *
“So you rememberedher voice saying…what was it?” I ask the next day. We’re in my car, the windows rolled down as we head over to Maplewood. Heidi’s left Gemma in charge, and when we left Eric was hanging around too, trying to sneak muffins from the display case.
“I think I remembered her sayingI know what you did.She sounded…odd,” Heidi says. “Sort of broken, I guess. Sad.”
“That is sad,” I say, and I rub my chest, trying to ward off the little tug of regret that’s pulling somewhere behind my sternum.
It was just a stupid chair. I could have found somewhere else to sit. Why was I so petty?
I reach over and take Heidi’s hand, weaving my fingers through hers. It’s a simple action, but the way she accepts it almost eagerly makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode out of my chest.
My girlfriend. I’m holding mygirlfriend’shand.
I wish I could take the scenic route to Maplewood so that I could hold that hand for even longer.
I can’t, though. And more to the point, I don’t even know if thereisa scenic route to Maplewood. It doesn’t matter, anyway; we’re on a bit of a time crunch. Phil and Elsie said they were moving.
When I pull up in front of their duplex, I spot theFor Salesign in their yard immediately. “They’re running,” I say quietly.
“I think so too,” Heidi says, her voice grim. “I’ve been thinking about Phil, and how he looked at the funeral. I think he found out what Elsie had done. That’s the only explanation I can come up with, based on what we know or suspect. Or…maybe something happened between them and Stanley Riggs, and that’s what caused his spiral.”
“He looked pretty bad,” I admit, picturing Phil’s appearance at the funeral.
“He did—much worse than we’ve seen him so far.”
I nod. “But Elsie looked fine.”
“She did.” Heidi sighs and then looks out the window at the duplex. “Well, let’s go see what Mr. Foster has to say, or if he’ll even talk to us at all.”
We get out of the car, and maybe I’m being paranoid, but I close my door as quietly as possible. You can hear a car door slamming out on the street from inside a house, right? I think you can. The last thing we want is to alert Phil and Elsie to our presence.
Heidi’s clearly on the same page, because she closes her door quietly too. I round the car, and together we head down the sidewalk and then up Mr. Foster’s driveway. And because I am a respectful boyfriend, I spend no longer than two seconds with my eyes on Heidi’s legs, long and tan in her cut-off shorts. My mind flashes back to the way those legs wrapped around me yesterday, and I shake my head.
Focus,I tell myself firmly.This is not the time or the place.
I hurry my pace so that I can walk next to Heidi instead of behind her as we approach the front door, and when we reach it, I knock firmly.
No one answers.
We wait for probably thirty seconds, Heidi’s toes tapping impatiently, until I decide to try again. I knock harder this time, not violently but loud enough to be heard. This time the door swings open after a few seconds.
“Hello,” the man at the door says, looking at us like he can’t quite remember where we’re from. He looks pretty much the same as he did last time we spoke; thin and reedy, with dull eyes and glasses.
“Hi,” Heidi says, giving him a smile. It’s friendly but not entirely genuine; somehow it only makes me appreciate her real smile more. “We spoke not too long ago about Carmina Hildegarde. I was wondering if we could ask you a few more questions about your neighbors. Do you have a moment?”
Mr. Foster’s eyes jump back and forth between us. “I don’t really—I mean, I haven’t—” But his voice falters as he searches blatantly for an excuse.
“It will really be only a moment,” I say. “And then we’ll be out of your hair.”
He lifts his hand absently to touch the top of his head, and I wince when I remember he’s very bald.
Oops.
“Would that be all right?” Heidi says, steering firmly past my blunder. I shoot her a grateful look, but her eyes are trained on Mr. Foster.
“Oh, all right,” the man says with a sigh. “Come in, I suppose.”
