Discovering (Lily Dale #4)(54)

Her heart skips a beat. “I’ll miss you, too.”

Looking up at him, Calla wishes everything and everyone— the noisy school, the people, her father and his car, the weekend ahead—could just fall away, leaving her alone with Jacy. Judging by the look in his eyes, he’s wishing the same thing.

He leans in and kisses her—not the way he wants to, she senses, and not the way she wants him to—but in a way that’s appropriate for broad daylight, at school, with her father in the vicinity.

“You better get going.”

“Yeah.”She sighs. “Good luck at your track meet later.”

“Thanks.”

He gives a wave and heads off down the hall toward the boys’ locker room.

Reluctantly, Calla walks down the steps through a cold drizzle. As she reaches for the car door handle, she lowers her head to check her father’s face through the window.

It’s not tear-stained, to her relief. He looks normal. Serious, but normal.

She climbs in. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Cal’.”He pulls away from the curb, past the waiting line of yellow school buses. “Put on your seat belt.”

She does, wondering if they’re still going away for the weekend now that he knows. She doesn’t want to come right out and ask. What if she was wrong and he doesn’t know? What if, for some reason, Gammy decided not to tell him?

“Dad? Did you remember to pick up my overnight bag?”

“Got it.”

“Good.”

How is she going to bring up what happened last night?

What if he doesn’t?

What if she has to wonder all weekend whether— “Calla, I had a long talk with your grandmother this morning. And with Detective Lutz and Detective Kearney.”

Oh.

Okay, then.

He knows.

She takes a deep breath, glad he’s driving so they don’t have to look each other in the eye. “Was it about Mom?”

“Yes, and the first thing I want you to know is that I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me. I can live with this. All right?”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Was it easy to hear that Mom kept something this big from me for all these years? I won’t lie to you. It wasn’t. But I’ll survive, and so will you. And now, maybe we’ll get some answers.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“They wrote down everything and they said they’ll look into it.”He shrugs. “They had already been trying to locate Sharon Logan’s daughter, Laura, from what I understand.”

“You mean they already knew she was Mom and Darrin’s baby?”

“No! No, they didn’t know . They wanted to talk to her about Sharon.”

Suddenly, it hits Calla.

Wanted to.

Trying to locate.

“You mean . . . they can’t find her?”

“No. Not yet.”Dad hesitates. “She, uh, seems to have gone missing a while back.”

“Missing!”Calla’s heart sinks. “What if something’s happened to her, too? What if—”

She can’t even say it. She rests her head miserably against the passenger window as her father turns left onto Route 60, heading north toward the Thruway.

Is it possible she’s found her sister only to lose her again . . . this time, forever?

“Calla? Do you have a feeling one way or another? About Laura being dead or alive?”

Caught off guard by her father’s question, she turns slowly to look at him.

“What do you mean . . . a feeling?”

Dad is focused on the road through the windshield. “I mean, your grandmother thought I should know everything. Not just about Mom. About you, too.”

“You mean . . . ?”

“I mean I know you have a—what do you like to call it around here? A gift?”

“More like . . . an ability.”Her heart is racing. “It doesn’t always feel like a gift.”

“I can imagine. And I understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I’m going to try to be more open-minded from now on. I’m tired of secrets, and I think you are, too. What do you say we make a fresh start? Starting today?”

“Okay. Starting today.”

“No more secrets. Agreed?”

She hesitates only a split second, wondering if she should tell him about her mother and Darrin maybe having an affair behind his back.

But is it really her place to do that?

No. It’s not. At least, not right now.

You’re not a hundred percent sure.

Ninety-nine- point-nine percent, based on the evidence, but . . .

“Agreed,”she tells her father, with a twinge of guilt.

“Good. And in that spirit—no pun intended—I have a suggestion.”

“What?”

He hesitates, and glances over at her.

“What?”she repeats, sensing that everything isn’t behind them.

“What do you say we go visit your grandfather in Pittsburgh?”“When?”

“No time like the present. We’re already headed for Pennsylvania.”“But . . . what if he doesn’t want to see us?”