Discovering (Lily Dale #4)(20)

“Calla! Want to help us dig to China?”Dylan shouts, lifting his white-blond head.

“China!”little Ethan echoes.

She smiles. “Not today, guys. Some other time, though.”

“I heard your dad came back with you,”Paula calls, shifting her heavyset frame to lean forward, “and he’s living in the Taggarts’ guest room.”

Still unaccustomed to small-town living, Calla nods. “News travels fast around here.”

“You know it.”

Yes, she sure does.

She wonders if the Lily Dale gossip mill is already speculating about a romance between Dad and Ramona. If they aren’t, they will be.

“I heard something else, too.”Paula beckons her closer.

Just like I thought. Calla sighs inwardly and crosses to the front steps, pausing on the way to hug the boys and inspect their hole to China.

“Looks like you’ll be there pretty soon,”she solemnly tells them.

Dylan nods. “Maybe not in time, though.”

“In time for what?

“In time to help.”

Something in his expression sends a chill through Calla. She crouches beside him. “What are you going to help with, Dylan?”

“I have to help all the people. They’re going to get hurt when all the buildings crash down.”

Shuddering inwardly, Calla says, “You’re just pretending, right, Dylan? You’re just playing superhero again, right?”

He hesitates. Then he nods. “Right!”

“Right!”Ethan agrees, bobbing his blond curls emphatically. Calla stands, brushes the dirt off her legs, and goes over to Paula.

“They’re so cute,”she says.

“Yeah, they are. So, Calla, listen, a couple of detectives came to see Patsy Metcalf a little while ago.”

Caught off guard, Calla manages to say only, “Um . . . really?”

Already? is what she should have said.

“I heard they were from Florida.”

Lutz and Kearney. Wow. She’d known it was coming, but somehow, she had put it out of her mind.

Calla feels like sinking onto the step beside Paula, but she doesn’t dare. She doesn’t trust herself not to spill the whole story—and in a town like this, that would be a big mistake.

“I heard it had something to do with you,”Paula says, “and I wanted to make sure everything is okay.”

She’s not being nosy—just concerned. And Calla can hardly blame her. After all, she’s Paula’s children’s babysitter. If Paula suspects she’s in some kind of trouble with the law, Calla can kiss her part-time income good-bye.

“It’s kind of complicated,”she tells Paula, “but it’s about this woman who broke into my father’s house back in Tampa over the weekend.”

“Really?”

Paula seems to be waiting for her to elaborate.

When she doesn’t, Paula asks, “What does Patsy have to do with it?”

Calla weighs the truth and quickly decides to offer a version of it. “Someone in Patsy’s Saturday class had a vision involving the woman, and I mentioned that to the police. I guess they want to check it out.”

“Oh, I see.”That seems to make perfect sense to Paula, who looks relieved. “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.”

Calla forces a smile. “Like me being wanted for bank robbery or something?”

“Exactly.”Paula chuckles. “So, listen, now that we know you’re not a wanted felon, can you come babysit tomorrow after school? The boys have been asking for you.”

Calla hesitates.

The last time she was there, Dylan drew a picture of her scribbled over in blue crayon and calmly informed her she was under water. And a few weeks ago, he correctly foretold that a man with “a raccoon eye”was trying to hurt her.

“Sure,”she tells Paula.

After all, she can’t be afraid of a five-year- old. Even one who specializes in making dire predictions— involving Calla— between Candyland moves and story time.

Calla arrives home to find her grandmother in the front yard.

No surprise there.

In Lily Dale, when the weather turns nice, people rush outside to enjoy it from their porches, yards, and gardens.

Odelia—who frequently says her skin is fairer than a baby’s keister—is on her knees in a flowerbed, wearing a big, floppy Little House on the Prairie–style sunbonnet, enormous aviator sunglasses, and a patch of protective white zinc on her nose.

“Calla! Is it three thirty already? How was school?”

“Same as usual.”Calla dumps her heavy backpack on the steps, then sinks down beside it. She plops her chin in her hands and wonders whether to tell her grandmother about the Florida investigators talking to Patsy.

For all she knows, Odelia has already heard.

If she hasn’t, she will soon enough. No need to bring it up now.

“Same as usual,”Odelia echoes. “Sounds like that’s a bad thing?”

“Actually, it isn’t.”On the contrary, it was comforting to go through a predictable school day after a weekend that was anything but.

“Then why do you look so depressed?”

“Because I stink at math, and I had it last period. Mr. Bombeck hates me.”