”Art?”
“Like an abstract painting. You can find art and beauty in everything, if you look hard enough. But your beauty is just staring you in the face.”
I swallowed hard, my throat feeling thick. He gave me a small smile and then pulled the bedspread up over me.
“Come on, we should get some sleep,” he said, leaning over and switching off the lamp.
The room went dark but my heart was glowing.
The next morning I got up with the dawn, realizing how worried Uncle Jim was going to be. My phone had gone dead during the night and he was probably wondering why my car was still outside of his place.
I got dressed in a hurry, already feeling different in the early light. Last night had been a lot of fun but fun was all it would be. It’s all it could be.
“You sure you don’t want to shower here?” Camden asked me as he leaned against the door, watching me smooth my hair down in the bathroom. “I can make you breakfast. Mexican omelet with lots of peppers.”
“I would but Uncle Jim is probably a worried wreck. You don’t mind driving me, do you?”
He shook his head no and soon we were in his jeep, jutting down the main street. Everything looked peaceful before the shops opened, like nothing bad could happen in this town with its groomed palm trees and bright buildings.
Soon he was pulling up into the driveway beside Jose and I knew Uncle Jim was going to get a good look at him. I could already feel his disapproval radiating from the stucco.
Camden eyed the house warily, perhaps picking up on my nervy vibes, then leaned in with a smile. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that last night was the most fun I’ve ever had on Camden and Ellie’s Day of Fun. I think it was the most fun I’ve had, period.”
“It was certainly one for the books,” I told him. Hating goodbyes, I quickly kissed him on the lips.
“So you’ll stay for a while?” he asked me, all hopeful and cute. He really worked hard at ruining my resolve.
“I think so, for a few days anyway,” I said, being careful with my words. Everything was starting to count now. “I have some friends nearby. I may pay them a visit or I might check out some of the nearby towns if I can’t get a job here.”
He frowned. “Do you really need a job that badly?”
I grinned awkwardly. “Who doesn’t need a job? Anyway, thanks for the lovely time and the fun and I hope you enjoy your kilt.”
He gave me a funny look and it wasn’t over what I had said. “Can I call you? Or do I have to guess your email again? I can’t believe you still use the same account since high school.”
“Well it’s all consolidated into one now.” But I gave Camden my phone number and told him to give me a ring. I wasn’t sure if that was a mistake or not, but perhaps keeping tabs on his whereabouts would help me out in the long run.
My eyes flew to the house and spied the curtains being thrown back. Uncle Jim was up.
I gave Camden a sheepish look. “I better go before he hangs my ass.”
I snatched up my purse, suddenly very aware I was doing the walk of shame, and went quickly up to the house. Seeing that he was still waiting in the jeep, I gave him a short wave, then unlocked the door and stepped in.
I leaned against it and didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until I heard Camden’s jeep roar away.
Then I yelped.
Uncle Jim suddenly appeared in front of me.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” I gasped, hand to my pounding heart.
He folded his arms across his denim shirt and lowered his head in paternal impatience. “Where on earth were you last night?”
“I told you, I was out. Applying for jobs,” I said, straightening out my tank top and avoiding his eyes. It’s not that I couldn’t lie to his face—I could lie to anyone’s face—but I didn’t want to see the disapproval.
“Without your car?”
“Er, yes,” I said, moving past him. I put my purse on the counter and opened the fridge. There was still only mustard.
“Ellie, I don’t care if you’re with that McQueen boy or not,” he explained with a sigh. “I really don’t. I know you know how to take care of yourself. You’re one of the toughest women I know.”
I rolled my eyes and was glad only the jar of mustard could see it. I didn’t feel so tough anymore now that the “McQueen boy” had admittedly gotten under my skin.
He went on. “I was just worried. I thought…maybe something had happened to you.”
I shut the fridge and leaned back against it to face him, blowing a strand of hair out of my face.
“I’m fine. See? And you just said I was the toughest woman you know.”
“I said you were one of them. And…I’m not worried about you and the Sheriff’s son. I’m worried about you. People from your past. About the kind of trouble you get in.”
I cocked my head. “People from my past? Like who?”
He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Oh, no one. I don’t know who the people from your past are. I just know you have a past and that people’s pasts like to catch up with them.”
I had to admit, he was making me a bit nervous. It’s not that I wasn’t often thinking the exact same thing. When you lived your life scamming people, stealing from them and making enemies, you tended to have a giant case of paranoia and anxiety in your personal baggage. It’s part of the reason I got hooked on Ativan, but then my brain got too fuzzy and I lost a lot of my wits. I needed them.
But I couldn’t be afraid of everything all the time. I had always taken the right precautions. I did certain types of cons under certain types of names and certain types of personas. I had a revolving collection of realistic wigs, colored contacts, and self-tanning lotion. I knew tricks with makeup to make my nose look wider or slimmer; I could change my whole look just by manipulating my brows. No one knew Ellie Watt. Except for the people in this town, people like Camden, no one knew me. Even Javier didn’t know the real me; he knew me as a bronzed, blonde bombshell called Eden White. And yes, I chose to look, and sound, like a porn star on purpose.
“I’m fine, really,” I told him, wishing I sounded more confident. “Ellie Watt is a safe bet with a clean record.”
He furrowed his brow before walking over to the coffee pot. “Yeah, well I sure hope she keeps it that way. For both of our sakes.”
Later that day, I was walking around Joshua Tree National Park and planning the exact thing Uncle Jim was afraid of: trouble. To be fair, I’d only get in trouble, only tarnish my name if I got caught. And I wasn’t planning on getting caught. I wasn’t as impulsive as I used to be. I took chances but only when the odds were good. The odds here were in my favor. Camden liked me. He trusted me. He’d never believe I was the one ripping him off.
I couldn’t believe I was actually going through with the whole thing either. That had to count for something.
It was hot as fuck up at Joshua Tree and two in the afternoon was probably the worst time to go for a hike, but something about the surroundings soothed me. The sky was impossibly blue, like paint pigment. I’d seen a similar color inked on Camden’s arm. The boulders were smooth and round, like Camden’s shoulders. The scrubby cacti and sagebrush reminded me of the stubble on his chin. And the imposing Joshua trees, the way they rose up out of the earth…well anyway. Suffice it to say, even though I came here to get some fresh air and clear my mind, my thoughts kept coming back to Camden.
Get through tonight and then you’re gone, I told myself, kicking away a small tumbleweed. I had to keep telling myself that or I’d begin to lose my nerve. This was the whole problem with the “knowing your mark” thing. It made things easier and harder at the same time.
Even though I kept thinking back to our love-making, to the beautiful things he said to me, to the way he knew the person I had been and didn’t seem to care, it was fruitless to even humor the idea of making something out of us. Camden might have known me as a scared little turncoat in high school, but he didn’t know me as a criminal. He didn’t know the things I’d done and he could never know. What was I supposed to do then? Shack up with him and live a lie? I had done that with Javier and barely got out of that alive.
It was too hard living a lie. I didn’t think I could share it with someone too.
In the sweet shade of a boulder, I parked my ass on a rock and brought out my notepad and pen. I needed to think hard and think smart. I didn’t want to pack up my car to leave tonight since my original plan had me hanging around town for a few more days. After all, it would look terribly suspicious if I happened to leave town the same time as the robbery. But, I had to take precautions and that meant hightailing my ass out of town if it came down to it.
I wanted to get in the house in the middle of the night. I knew Camden was tired from our early rise that morning and from the wine hangover we were both feeling. He’d probably be sleeping soundly by two in the morning, so I chose four as the best option. Only sordid things happened at four a.m.
I’d go in through the front door. Picking that lock would be easy. Then I’d get into the office and hit up the safe. I had come up with several number combinations that I thought were a good start. If they didn’t work, then I could either choose to bail or test my luck and try safe-cracking. Listening for those contact points took an awful lot of time, however, and time was something that wasn’t on my side.
But I’d listened to Camden a lot last night, even when I was drunk. My brain was always reeling stuff in. After trying 007, 311, 911, 411, 187, and 666 (some of the more easily remembered three-number codes), I’d try his birthday (6/11), his son’s birthday (10/03), the area code (760), or the last three digits of his license plate (299). Then I’d work through combinations of his lucky number (5) and his phone digits. Yes, I found out an awful lot of trivial information about Camden during our day of fun. Luckily he was the type to just talk and let me ask the questions.
Which, in retrospect, I did find a little weird. He hadn’t seen me since high school and aside from asking how Uncle Jim was doing, what song was tattooed on my arm, and that whole “I’ve been doing odd jobs” excuse, he hadn’t asked me anything about myself. Wasn’t I a bit of a mystery to him? Wasn’t he at all interested in what I’d been up to in the last eight or nine years or so?
Perhaps he was just being polite. He knew how defensive I could get over the smallest things. I decided to forget about that and be thankful that he had left his questioning out of it. As I said earlier, I’d have no problems lying to him—but it didn’t mean I liked doing it.
I had filled up the notepad with a rough map of his house and potential hazards when my phone beeped, breaking through the sound of ground doves and cicadas.
I fished it out of my pocket. It was a text from Camden. Oh boy.
Hey, was wondering if you wanted to catch a show with me tonight in San Bernardino. I know it’s kind of far but this band is really good. I think you’d like them. It starts at 10PM.
