“If he’s cooking it, at least I know it’ll be good barbecue food. Burnt sausages and rock-hard burgers are not my idea of haute cuisine.”
I got up to show Chris out, and he paused at the door. “Is there anything else bothering you?”
“Apart from still being here after two years?” I asked. “No, I’m good.”
“It’s not a science, Nate,” Chris said. “I get that you’re frustrated, and I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through, but you just need to keep going. Eventually it’ll work out.”
“You hope,” I said with a wry smile.
“No, Nate, I know. I know it’ll be better, and sooner rather than later Nate Garrett will reveal to the world that he’s alive. And then we’ll get to see some real goddamn fireworks.”
Chapter Three
NATE GARRETT
The rest of the day was a bust. I was too angry about the morning’s encounter, and trying to get hold of Jessica or her parents had been a completely fruitless idea, so I settled for working out in the back garden. When I’d punched and kicked away my frustrations, I picked up a book and sat down next to the fireplace and did a few hours of reading. I’d really managed to catch up on my missed books over the last few years, although I couldn’t find a particular genre that I enjoyed over the others, so my reading list was quite eclectic.
Changing into jeans, a light-blue T-shirt, and the world’s thickest pair of socks, I left the house wearing a large jacket and good boots. If I was going to stay in the field stands while I watched the football game, I was at least going to be warm.
I reached the high school after the sun had set and saw Brooke Tobin, the sheriff’s deputy, directing the crowd from the car park through to the seating.
“Nate,” she said with a smile as she stopped me.
“Deputy Tobin,” I said, returning the smile as she walked with me onto the field. “How’s things?”
“Not bad. Looking forward to the game. We had some trouble in the past between Clockwork and Stockton supporters, so the sheriff thought it wise to show our faces.”
Brooke was someone I considered a friend. Exactly my height, with shoulder-length dark hair that she often tucked behind her ears, she’d been a deputy for several years and had celebrated her twenty-eighth birthday a few weeks earlier.
I smiled. “Enjoy the evening, Deputy Tobin.”
“Behave yourself, Nathan Carpenter.”
The majority of spectators had already found their places in the stands that sat on the side of the football pitch just behind the high school’s American football field. The field had newly built stands that could easily seat a thousand people. Brooke had told me that the high school had a really popular American football team here, and the principal had decided to renovate the field to accommodate the huge numbers of spectators who wanted to come watch.
Because the football team wasn’t allowed to use the American football field, and due to the popularity of the sport in town, the town hall had put another set of stands on the football pitch. It was a bit of a trek from the car park to the football pitch, but I soon reached the stands, shuffling my way past several Clockwork residents and saying hi to those I knew, until I found myself being hailed by Donna Kuro, who waved me over.
Donna was seventy-two years old and barely over five feet in height, and I’d never known her to have anything less than a smile on her face to greet people. Donna had been married to her husband, Daniel, for over fifty years, and rarely had I met two people who were so obviously meant to be together.
“Nate,” Donna said. “Good to see you here.”
“Yes,” Daniel said from beside her. “Ava was worried you weren’t coming.”
“I wasn’t going to miss it,” I told him.
Daniel had been born in Los Angeles seventy-eight years ago to Japanese parents, and he’d once told me that when he’d started dating Donna, who was white Irish, it had caused quite a stir within both communities. They’d eloped together to New York the second Daniel had finished at med school, and once there, Donna had gotten a doctorate in ancient history. When their daughter and son-in-law had died in a car crash and they’d had to bring up teenage Jessica and baby Ava, they’d moved to Clockwork to raise them away from the hustle and bustle of New York. I sensed there was more to it than that but hadn’t wanted to pry.
“You spoken to Jessica today?” I asked. I didn’t care about prying into that.
“She was agitated earlier,” Donna said. “She walked off to take a call. Hopefully she’ll be back in time.” She leaped to her feet, applauding as Ava and her football team, the Hawks, arrived on the pitch, along with the away team, the Bears.
“I hope they give them a good thrashing,” Donna said, returning to her seat.
“Now, dear, these aren’t professionals,” Daniel said with a smile.
“Well, then a good thrashing will teach them the art of humility,” Donna said, making me laugh.
Jessica returned a few seconds later, waving at Ava, who was the spitting image of her older sister, except she was already the same height as Jessica and appeared to not want to stop growing.
“I hope Ava’s okay,” Donna said. “She’s been having terrible nightmares.”
“She stressed out or something?” I said.
Donna shook her head. “Not at all. She just has them on occasion. They come and go but never last long.”
I was about to ask more, but the introductions to the teams happened, and everyone erupted into applause. After the initial checks and handshakes, the two teams took up their positions on the pitch, with Ava as center forward. The referee blew his whistle, and they were off.
It was an exciting opening ten minutes, with Ava forcing the Bears’ goalkeeper to make two brilliant saves before she hit the crossbar with a wonderful shot from outside the penalty area. Unfortunately, it was obvious that both teams were fairly equal, with the Bears being a bit more aggressive in their tackling than was probably allowed. Several Hawk parents shouted at the referee to do his job after a particularly nasty tackle on a Hawk midfielder resulted in her having a bloody nose.
Thankfully, soon after, Ava scored the first goal, and the Bears crumbled. By halftime, it was three to zero for the Hawks, and the parents of the Bears were beginning to sound more and more like a hoard of disgruntled morons, with a few of them making comments about Hawk players that turned the atmosphere in the stands into something a bit less pleasant than what I’d expected.
Jessica stood and announced she needed to make a phone call. She walked away as I caught the sheriff and his deputies having a word with a few of the Bear parents.
“Where’s Simon?” I asked Donna and Daniel. Simon was Jessica’s five-year-old son. He was a good kid: smart, liked to draw, and danced around to whatever music he heard in his head. He also liked to climb everything he saw that was taller than he was, often resulting in him getting stuck and having to be helped out.
“He’s got a cold,” Daniel said. “We left him back at home with our neighbors. They dote on him, so I’m sure he’ll be having a lovely time.”
“I’m going to get a pretzel,” I said. “You want anything?”