Page 40 of Within These County Lines

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I don’t assume.”

“Soon,” I say, slamming my phone face down on my desk. “Anyway, I’m heading back to that strange pool I told you about.”

“Oh, yeah?” She perks up. “What’s up with that place again?”

“Dead animals. Green water. Middle of nowhere.”

I still haven’t mentioned Xander to her. The strangest part of all.

“That sounds amazing,” she says. “Why are you complaining? I inspect hotels where everything is cleaner than a damn church. Are there any interesting people there?”

My body tenses. “What?” I laugh lightly, crossing my arms. “No. Who would I have seen there that’s interesting?”

She narrows her eyes. “This is an example of you being weird.”

“I’m not . . . It’s just—”

She blows into her clarinet, cutting me off as she tests the freshly cleaned keys. “I’m heading into town after work for my first street performance,” she says. “I got to make sure this baby sounds her best, so people throw me more than just dollar bills.”

“Grease away.”

She grins. “If I make enough money, I might be able to get us a few fancy hotel nights on our road trip this summer.” She examines the shiny clarinet mouthpiece, then snaps on a new reed with a satisfied nod.

I scratch my neck. The reminder of my failed college plan sits heavier than ever.

Whitley keeps playing a slow, melancholy sound that fills our cubicle, the perfect score for a movie about my life’s demise.

20

Light gray clouds churn across the sky as I drive south. They roll down the mountains and sink low over the trees like smoke from a snuffed-out flame. The first drop of rain splatters against my windshield just as I turn into Rainbow Valley’s long driveway. My tires slosh through muddy puddles and send ripples across the murky brown water.

I park next to a new car I don’t recognize.

At the top of a ladder, Kim brushes leaves off the old shed’s roof.

“Hey, Stetson,” she says as I step out of my truck.

“Hey, Kim.” I give her a quick wave.

“These leaves have been here so long they’re basically cemented on.” She scrapes at them with her gloved hand, then glances up at the darkening sky. “I’m trying to clear them off before the rain.” She jerks her chin toward the pool. “Sheryl is over there, if you’re here for another inspection.”

I nod and head down the drive.

Sheryl stands near the lounge chairs, deep in conversation with an unfamiliar woman. Xander isn’t beside them. He has a habit of listening in on these conversations unseen, so I scan the trees and far end of the pool for where he might be hiding, but there’s nothing.

A cool breeze hits my face, sending my hair swirling and raising goose bumps along my arms.

“Is the third time the charm?” Sheryl asks as I approach.

The other woman crosses her arms and gives me a once-over with a faint smile.

I grin. “Let’s hope so.”

Sheryl sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, rubbing her forehead. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but I’m about to kill that hope real quick.”

At this point, I barely flinch. Hope isn’t something I count on lately. I glance at the pool. It still looks like a Saint Patrick’s Day–themed science experiment.