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“Have you read them?”
“Well, no.”
“Then how would you know?”
Brushing off his comment, I try to get back to what he said about Lily.
“How does Lily know that Heather doesn’t have a roommate?”
“Lily is in her reader group,” Gaston says. “That’s how we found out about the book signing, and Heather has Q&A sessions with her readers once a month.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s where all of the fans get online at the same time and ask questions about the author’s life. Last month, someone asked about roommates. She lives alone.”
“I guess that makes our job a lit
tle easier.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“We’ll see when we get there.”
I don’t like the fact that Gaston is being kind of cryptic and I definitely don’t like the fact that I didn’t know Lily was a Heather Smith fan. That’s information that should have been shared with me, and I’m a bit put off by the fact that it wasn’t.
I know it doesn’t really matter.
“What does Lily think about this little mission?” I ask.
Gaston’s silence speaks louder than words.
“Didn’t tell her?”
“Nope.”
“She’s going to be pissed, huh?”
“Hopefully she’ll be understanding.”
“You kidnapped your wife’s favorite author in the world and you think she’s going to be understanding?”
Even I know that Lily isn’t going to be pleased with this development. She’s a great woman and a wonderful mate to Gaston, but even a woman as patient as Lily has her limits.
I’m going to guess that kidnapping someone she admires is a hard limit.
We drive in silence, listening to the music, and I stare out of the window. Memories of being a kid on road trips with my parents flood my mind. Things were a lot simpler back then. Mom and Dad weren’t always the best parents. They weren’t always there for me and they didn’t always understand me, but they tried their best. That’s what matters, right? When I think of my childhood, and I think of the way my parents raised me, I have a lot of wonderful, happy memories.
A lot of people don’t have those things.
A lot of people don’t have any of these things.
They have pain and loss and tragedy. They don’t have the good times. I think that when I’m going through something tough, or something impossible, having those good times to fall back on is pretty important. Even now, our pack is going through something horrific. We’re being systematically hunted and we don’t know who’s behind it.
We have ideas.
We have a few clues.
