Read Trace Evidence: A Virals Short Story Collection Page 26


  “Coop and I can’t talk anymore,” I snapped, trying to hide my unease at his perceptiveness. For the hundredth time I reminded myself never to underestimate him. “You know that, Chance. He’s just . . . well trained.”

  “So you’ve said.” A statement of fact, not agreement.

  I glanced over his shoulder. A few feet away, Ella looked bored as she leaned against a buffet table. She shrugged apologetically. Obviously this wasn’t her idea.

  “Can I help you with something?” Resuming my vigil. Where was Ben already?

  Chance didn’t speak for a moment, but I felt his eyes on me. Then he sighed. “I hope you’ll trust me again one day, Tory. It’d be nice if we all could be honest with each other. For a change.” He straightened, tugging his sleeves. “Thank your father for the lovely invitation. Our gift is on the table. It’s an espresso maker.”

  I stifled a flinch. What did he mean, if we all could be honest?

  Was Chance holding back, too?

  I turned, but his back was already to me. Chance strolled over to Ella and offered an arm, then escorted her from the ballroom.

  Damn him. Every time I think I’m playing him, I find out it’s the opposite.

  Or is it?

  The kitchen doors swung open, driving all other thoughts from my mind. But it was only Hi and Shelton. They shook their heads in unison as they joined me.

  “Ben left the building.” Shelton fiddled nervously with his bow tie. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon, though. Maybe after what Mrs. Taylor said, he just needed some air or something.”

  I nodded, but my heart sank. Exactly what I was afraid of.

  “Maybe he took up smoking?” At my irritated frown, Hi raised both palms. “I’m just spitballing here. Maybe Ben’s a superhero, and there’s crime afoot.”

  Shelton leaned close, whispered, “Have you tried calling him on our private network?”

  I nodded glumly. “Nothing. He’s either out of range or blocking me.”

  Through trial and error we’d discovered that our telepathic connection wasn’t simply an open line. You could close off the pack if you wanted privacy. Mind-linked as I was to three teenage boys—and a giant wolfdog—I was usually grateful for that fact.

  Not right now.

  Why would Ben go so far away? Why would be choose to shut me out?

  My sick feeling increased.

  “He used a side gate.” Hi adjusted his sagging cummerbund for the tenth time. He’d wiped the frosting from his hair and face, but the tux was a wreck. “Coop tracked him there, but obviously couldn’t go any farther.”

  Coop was back in the garden, to the immense relief of nearly everyone. No matter how well trained I assured everyone he was, your average wedding guest isn’t comfortable with a hulking apex predator circling the dance floor. Whitney had insisted that Coop scram, though I’d caught her ruffling his ears as he padded outside.

  “What happened to Biggs?” Shelton asked. “Cousin Jimmy, I mean.”

  “They let him go,” I answered, still eyeing the door. “But Corcoran got all his information, and told him not to leave town. Corcoran still doesn’t know what to do next. Arrest them both, I say.”

  Hi chuckled. “It’d be pretty funny to see Mrs. Taylor in stripes.”

  “She deserves it.” I was miles less forgiving than Whitney. “If we’d been a few steps slower, everyone here would’ve been puking their guts out. She and Cousin Jimmy are criminals, scandalous or not.”

  “I’m with you,” Shelton said. “Wackos. You can’t sweep attempted poisoning under the rug, though I bet they try. Did Jimmy kill the flowers, too?”

  I shook my head. “Mrs. Taylor got the flowers. Remember, she was inside the ballroom during setup, supervising the Magnolia League’s camera crew. She must’ve gotten to the vases when the florists weren’t looking.”

  “Makes sense,” Hi agreed. “But I can’t see an old lady crawling under that altar in a cocktail dress. Or maybe I just don’t want to see it.”

  “That was Jimmy,” Shelton said. When Hi and I both looked at him sharply, he tapped his ear. “I overheard some of Corcoran’s interrogation while looking for Ben. Jimmy came by here last night and pulled the pins. Mrs. Taylor told him exactly which ones to remove. She knew how to time the collapse perfectly.”

  Hi whistled. “All that planning, just to embarrass a social rival. Looney Tunes.”

  My face flushed with anger. “Psychotic.”

  An intake of breath beside me. I glanced at Shelton, who pointed to the doors. “Look! He’s back.”

  Ben backed into the room carrying something bulky in his arms. It took me a moment to figure out what it was: three large cardboard boxes stacked atop one another. Two men in white aprons followed Ben with identical loads.

  “What in the world?” Shelton squawked. “He go shopping?”

  “No, no!” Hi smiled, rubbed his hands together in excitement. “I’d know those boxes anywhere. Our boy Benny just saved the day!”

  Kit rushed over to assist, a confused Whitney trailing in his wake. The four men set the boxes on a table and began peeling back the lids. Inside were cupcakes. A lot of cupcakes.

  I beamed. “He replaced the wedding cake!”

  Relief. Ben hadn’t run from me, or Mrs. Taylor’s stupid insults.

  He’d thought fast, slipped out, and solved our problem. Like a boss.

  Whitney clapped her hands like a schoolgirl. “Oh, Benjamin! They’re beautiful! Thank you so much!” She planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “Nice,” Hi breathed. Then yelped as my elbow found his gut.

  Ben spotted me and extricated himself from Whitney. As he made his way over, I noticed something else unusual. Ben had changed out of his tuxedo, but not into his standard black tee and jeans. He was sporting a dark gray uniform of some kind, with a black stripe straight down the middle of the jacket. Military cut. I’d never seen him wear anything like it.

  “Just like Richard Gere,” Hi whispered, rounding his eyes theatrically.

  My gaze flicked to my friend. “What now?” I could tell he was mocking me.

  Hi danced away with a sly smile. “You’ll see. Later. I got dibs on a red velvet.”

  My head whipped to Shelton, who was grinning ear to ear. “Thank God he’s telling you tonight! I’m terrible at keeping secrets.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What secret?”

  Shelton stuck his hands in his pockets and ambled away, whistling merrily.

  Exasperated, I turned to find Ben standing right in front of me. He executed a low bow, looking positively bizarre in his fancy outfit. The uniform was tantalizing familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

  “Replacement desserts delivered, ma’am.” Ben smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “Hope everyone likes chocolate.”

  “Out with it,” I demanded.

  Ben lifted his hands in surrender. “After Hi destroyed the cake, I remembered that fancy bakery a few blocks over on King. Your dad jumped at the idea, told me to use whatever means necessary. So I jogged over and—”

  “Not that!” I poked the buttons on his chest. “What secret are you keeping? And why are you dressed like a . . . like a . . .” Then it hit me. “Like a cadet?”

  Ben placed his hands on my shoulders. Looked me square in the eye.

  “Because I am one,” he said simply.

  I shook my head, lost. “Cadets attend The Citadel. You’re going to Warren Wilson.”

  “I’m not.” Ben released me. Abruptly stood at attention. Saluted. “I’ve joined the Cadet Corps. Knob Blue, at your command!” Then he grinned sheepishly, lowering his voice. “Or something like that. I have no idea. I’m not even supposed to wear this Citadel stuff yet. Whitney lent me a uniform for tonight. Her cousin’s, I think.”

  “Wait. What?” I couldn’t move. Or breathe.
“You’re joining the freaking Citadel? Since when? You hate soldier stuff!”

  “I like you. Love you, I mean,” he blurted, as if determined to get the words out. “So I’m sticking around here for a while. If that’s okay.” Suddenly he was scarlet-faced, and as nervous as I’d ever seen him.

  Head spinning.

  Heart pounding.

  Feet floating on air.

  “You borrowed a cadet’s uniform from my stepmother?” was all I managed, still trying to process the rest. Did he really say . . .

  “She’s the one who got me in.” Ben shook his head, as if unable to believe it himself. “Whitney pulled a few strings so I could stay close to home. She kinda knows everyone in town, FYI.”

  “Ben . . . I . . .”

  I clamped my lips shut, cutting off the weak effort. Tried to gather myself. Finally, I noticed Hi and Shelton a stone’s throw away, grinning like crocodiles, pretending not to eavesdrop as they exchanged a fist bump. Kit and Whitney weren’t even doing that much, watching us openly with wide smiles.

  Obviously the last to know.

  I grabbed Ben by the front of his jacket. “Ben Blue, you do NOT have to give up your life goals because of me. If you’re worried I’m going to bail because you’re moving out of state, don’t be.” Gulp. “I love you, too, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

  “Hey, I love marching in formation. Rules. Orders. Yelling. Can’t wait.” Ben swept my hands up in his. “Whatever buys me another year with you is worth it.” Then he hugged me close and whispered, “Besides, it’s only one year. Then we can both get the heck out of town.”

  We were nose to nose.

  The music stopped.

  Everyone was watching.

  Don’t care.

  I pulled Ben in. Smashed my lips against his.

  Applause rained down around us. Inside my head, Hi wisecracked that Ben and I had a lousy ship name. Shelton told him to shut it. But I was a thousand miles away.

  Ben was staying. My Ben.

  We wouldn’t have to be apart. Now, or maybe ever.

  It was the best day of my life.

  My eyes sparkled, as blue as the ocean.

  Love you, Ben Blue.

  I love you, too.

  Outside in the darkness, Cooper sat back and howled.

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  Kathy Reichs, Trace Evidence: A Virals Short Story Collection

 


 

 
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