Bill was scared. The signs were subtle, but they were there: slightly elevated breathing; eyes blinking rapidly; white knuckles clutching his sign; and tight shoulders. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, then turned and walked away. Subtle changes in his posture suggested defeat. The others followed while Adriel looked after Bill thoughtfully. Something was going on with him, and she meant to find out what.
Chapter 13
The last two-mile stretch into Oakville marked the beginning of a gradual uphill climb that turned Adriel’s legs to noodles and dried her mouth. Why hadn’t she had the foresight to bring along some bottled water? Some mean trick of the light made the crest of the hill seem closer than it was. Eventually, out of necessity, she stood to put more pressure on the pedals until even with the extra force, she had to get off the bike and push it the last few hundred feet. Parts of her lower anatomy felt rubbed raw from the edges of the seat, her hands stung where they grasped the rubber grips, and she wished she could heal herself so she didn’t have to spend the next few days sitting on a cushion.
Nestled against the lower edge of a lake big enough to provide plenty of boating and fishing, the town of Oakville bustled during the tourist months. Striped awnings shaded shop windows from the glare of sun off the water, and brightly colored umbrellas covered picnic table seating along a series of sun-whitened piers.
Wind roughened cedar siding festooned with fishing nets and floats contrasted with lighter, more colorful trim to continue the seaside theme. Out on the lake, triangle sails caught subtle air currents to pull their cargo through the rippling blue. The temptation to whiz down the hill and right into that cool, clear moisture was hard to resist. Instead, Adriel set her sights on the tiny yellow building with the big plastic ice cream cone attached to the roof. A scoop of double chocolate chip would go down good right about now.
The damp breeze off the water smelled like fresh rain and sunshine with the faintest hint of fish. Had there been any skin left on her abraded behind, Adriel would have wanted to sit and bask there for hours. As it was, she needed to put the last leg of the trip behind her to get to Hayward House. If Julie wasn’t home, she was sunk. Adriel jammed all thought of the trip back home into the farthest, darkest corner of her mind where she hoped it would die of neglect. Lifting her leg over the saddle proved impossible so she pushed the bike past a knot of tourists chattering loudly about who was at fault for making them late to meet their boat charter.
Too busy listening to the lively discussion, Adriel nearly plowed into the peacock-bright figure that appeared in front of her.
“Adriel? Is that you?” Gustavia reached out to steady the bike when it bobbled in Adriel’s startled grip. “Did you ride all the way here?”
Adriel winced before she could stop herself. “Yes, I did.” One hand dropped to absently rub her sore backside, causing a shiver of pain.
“That’s it. You’re coming with me.” Gustavia commandeered the bike to wheel it around the ice cream place toward the dead-end block where Kat lived. Long legs flashing, she took off like a rocket while Adriel, feeling as if she had aged fifty years in the last five minutes, limped along behind. The longer she stayed off the bike, the more stiff her legs became.
“You couldn’t have come at a better time,” Gustavia called back over her shoulder, “We’re having a sample party over at Kat’s this afternoon.”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” Ignoring the shriek of protest from her calf muscles, Adriel dashed forward to wrest the Schwinn from Gustavia’s hands. “I’ll just ride back to…”
“Honey, not even Amethyst is foolish enough to take bets on whether or not you could ride that bike fifty feet, much less make it back to Longbrook. You’ll come to Kat’s with me, and we’ll see what we can do to fix you up.” Her gaze brushed over Adriel, taking in the stiffened gait, chafed hands, and expression that became more pained with every step. “Painkillers, liniment, and a dose of Amethyst will go a long way to putting you right. One of us will give you a ride home, too.”
Too tired to argue, and thankful Kat lived nearby, Adriel followed Gustavia the scant distance to the small, but cheerful yellow and white house. The thought of asking what was a sample party never even crossed Adriel’s mind as Gustavia leaned the bike up against the porch and hustled her inside.
“Hey, where is everyone?” She called out. “Guess who’s here.”
“Kitchen.”
It turned out that a sample party involved a dozen or so cup-sized containers of wall paint and an equal number of disposable brushes. Several swatches of color already decorated each wall of the kitchen so Kat could choose between them. All but two selections had been x’ed out. There was so much color in the smallish room already that the samples were all but swallowed up in the visual frenzy. When Kat’s grandmother, the original Madame Zephyr—medium and fortune teller—died, she passed down more than just her famed psychic gifts. Kat also inherited this house, complete with a kitchen full of china teapots. In every shade and pattern, they squatted on shelves, the tops of the cabinets, and filled a built in breakfront with enough bright color to assault the eye.
“Adriel. Welcome.” Kat and Julie offered warm hugs while Amethyst scanned her aura.
“What have you done to yourself?” Eyes slightly unfocused, Amethyst ran gentle fingers over Adriel’s auric energy field. Every now and then, she stopped to twitch at specific areas and flick her fingers as though throwing something away. With each tweak, the pain and stiffness lessened.
“She rode an old bike over here,” Gustavia answered,
