“I know. He’s stuck with Jared.”
“What do you mean Principal Davis suspects something?” Jared asked, straightening. “Suspects what?”
“I had to go to his office,” I explained. “He had every yearbook from the seventies in there. He found a picture from the day his brother died. You were in it.”
“He’d circled your image,” Brooklyn said, “like he knows something.”
“That could be problematic.” He wrinkled his brows in thought. “I don’t know why I’ve locked on to this plane, but while I’m here, I shouldn’t disturb the natural order of things any more than I already have.”
“You mean to tell me, someone took your picture?” Cameron asked, taken a back.
“Not really his,” Brooklyn said. “It was a picture of Elliot Davis, Mr. Davis’s brother, taken on the day he died.”
“And, what,” Cameron asked Jared, “you struck a pose?”
He turned toward the window. “I was waiting.”
“I’m kind of surprised your picture can be taken,” Brooklyn said, “you know, that you even show up on film.”
“When I shift onto this plane, I take a physical form. I’m solid, like you.”
Brooklyn snorted. “I don’t think you’re anything like me.”
Cameron scoffed and leaned his head back against the seat. “So you slither onto this plane to rip some poor schmuck right out of his skin, and you get caught on Candid Camera. You aren’t the brightest reaper in the universe, are you?”
“He’s not the grim reaper,” I said, suddenly defensive. And very thankful that we’d been wrong. “He’s an angel.”
“For Pete’s sake, Lorelei.” Cameron shook his head as though floored at my naïveté. “He’s an angel, all right. The freaking angel of de—”
“Perhaps you should stop talking now,” Jared said.
“Or what?”
“I’ll make you stop.”
“If you didn’t hit like a girl in a pink party dress, I might be inclined to worry. Wait a minute.” He sat up again, his expression amused. “You don’t want her to know.”
Jared sat up as well. They’d been shoulder to shoulder in the small space as it was, but now they were facing each other, a murderous scowl on Jared’s face, an almost comical one on Cameron’s.
Though neither actually made a move to initiate another fight, the last thing I needed was a rumble in the Subaru. I turned to them angrily. “Am I going to have to pull over?” I asked, pointing a finger at each of them in turn.
They both frowned and backed down, turning to look out their windows and pout. Satisfied, I refocused on the road. Which was a good thing, since I was driving.
“Can I ask why you came for Mr. Davis’s brother?”
I watched in the mirror as Jared thought back. “Elliot Davis knew he was dying. He felt it and he prayed for just a moment more. He had a message for his brother Alan. Because the message was one of absolute unselfishness and he had such faith, I was sent.”
“To tweak the timing,” Brooke said, amazed.
“Yes. I waited for him to deliver the message, then I took him.”
“What was the message?” she asked.
He grinned. “I cannot say.”
“Man.” She frowned in disappointment, but my thoughts had veered in another direction.
I slowed the car to a stop. Fortunately, the road was deserted. I turned back to him and asked, “Did Mr. Davis see you?”
He blew out a slow sigh then admitted, “Yes, he did. For a split second in time, he saw me materialize and take his brother.”
“Nice,” Cameron said.
“We’ll definitely have to steer clear of the Bear.”
By the time we arrived at my house, it was a little past nine. Glitch and Brooklyn had called their parents to see if they could stay at my house to work on our science fair projects. Since they were both grounded, I was floored when they both got permission. Lesson learned. Throw in the word science, and we can get away with anything.
We entered through the back door. My grandparents had already locked up the store. Thank heavens for bingo night.
While Glitch made his specialty, grilled cheese sandwiches, Cameron went upstairs to take a shower.
“Would you like some water?” I asked Jared after gathering some toiletries from the store for him. I made a list of everything I took on a pad by the register so it would come out of my paycheck.
He thought a moment. “I’m not sure. Perhaps.”
I smiled and handed him a tall glass of water. He already seemed to be looking better. The swelling had gone down, and the bleeding above his eye had stopped. I wondered if the ability to heal quickly was part of his celestial uniqueness. “You’re not sure if you’re thirsty?”
“Not really.” He took a cautious sip, paused a half beat, then gulped it down and asked for more.
Five glasses of water and three sandwiches later, I gaped worriedly at him. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
“Since forever,” he said, unconcerned.
I was stunned by his answer. “Didn’t you say that you changed after you brought me back?”
“Yes.”
“That was two days ago. You haven’t had anything to eat or drink in two days?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t realize I was thirsty.”