Secrets of Ugly Creek Page 7

  He looked down-right pitiful. “That meant nothing, my sweet. Just a greeting between two old friends.”

  “I’m going to start cleaning up.” Mom turned toward the kitchen.

  “Please don’t leave on my behalf, Mrs. Clark. I’d love to talk to you about your art.”

  Mom gave his arm a little squeeze. “Save it, Greg.”

  “Have a seat.” I waved him into the living room.

  He lowered his lanky body onto the couch and patted the seat beside him.

  Instead, I sat in a chair and faced him. “Wanna explain?”

  “I came to see you, to speak to you away from the craziness of DC.”

  I didn’t want to ask, I was afraid of what his answer would be. Still, I had to know. “Why?”

  “Because I care about you.”

  Those blue eyes of his mesmerized me. I wanted to believe him. I always did. And the reality is, he’s the man I should be lusting after. Greg was nice, rich, successful. So we had our ups and downs. So he’d kissed another woman. We didn’t have an exclusive relationship. Not really.

  He put his hands on his knees and leaned toward me. “I’ll bet you’re bored out of your mind out here in redneck-central.”

  My breathing rate doubled as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Not really.”

  He stood and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll bet you can’t wait to get back to civilization. It shouldn’t take you much longer to get the info you need, and I’ll throw you a welcome home party. It’ll be a blast.”

  I should be happy. He was being nice. “Thank you.”

  Then he kissed me and…nothing.

  All I could think about was Mac’s kiss. How it made me feel like I was burning from the inside out. How he made my heart beat so hard it hurt. How I never wanted him to stop.

  What the bloody hell was wrong with me?

  Greg pulled back, smiling and apparently unaware of my errant thoughts. “We belong together, Madison.”

  Oh no, not now. “I, um, we talked about this. I’m not ready to settle down.”

  He took my hands in his, and the warm feel of them should have affected me. It didn’t. “Give me a chance, Madison. Let me prove to you that we are meant for each other.”

  I started to speak, but he put a finger on my lips. “Don’t. Not now. Let me show you, please?”

  I sighed. “Fine, but no promises.”

  “Thank you. You won’t regret this, I promise.”

  Personally, I wasn’t so sure.

  He kissed me gently, then let go of my hands. “I’m staying at the Hilton up toward Knoxville. There was really nothing closer.”

  “The film crew has everything booked.”

  “There isn’t a lot anyway.” The frown had me tamping down a desire to forcefully defend my little hometown. It was better to just leave it alone, I decided.

  “If you need me, or just want to talk, call me.” The million-dollar smile was back.

  I nodded, and he walked out the door. The relief I felt did nothing to calm my chaotic thoughts.

  “That Greg is a handsome young man.”

  I turned toward my mom. “Yes, he is.”

  “But not who you need in your life?”

  I sighed and moved into my mother’s arms. “Apparently not.”

  “Don’t settle for less than the very best.”

  I looked into her wise eyes. My mom’s awesome at giving great advice. “He’s handsome and rich and successful. He says he loves me, Mom.”

  “But you don’t love him.”

  “No. But he is exactly what I want in a man.” Exactly the kind of guy my dad would have picked for me.

  She smiled as she brushed a stray strand of hair back from my face. “Your mind might think he’s great, but if your heart doesn’t agree, you need to wait until your heart says you’ve found the right one.”

  “How do you know when it’s the right one?”

  “You’ll know,” she said. “Let’s go have dessert.”

  I went to sleep thinking about what she said and dreamed all night about Gibson McFain. Obviously, eating pie before bed was a bad idea.

  ****

  The next morning dawned clear and warm. A good thing since Mom, Liza, Aunt Octavia, and I met behind the soon-to-be railroad museum before the sun was completely up. “This is so exciting!” Aunt Octavia seemed to vibrate with energy.

  I gripped my travel coffee mug and focused on staying awake as we trudged into the woods behind the museum. We hadn’t gone far when a familiar little gray figure stepped into our view. Presumably this was the same creature who had spoken with us the day before, but you couldn’t prove it by me. All I knew was that the little fellow looked like all those science fiction movies with the gray aliens. He, or she, seemed to be unclothed, and had no markings or indications of gender.

  The alien motioned to us, then turned and headed deeper into the woods. It took me a minute to realize it, but he, or she, wasn’t wearing shoes. Dang, I was having a hard enough time in my Nikes. At least I’d had enough sense to leave my heels in the car.

  Before long we came to a clearing. There, taking up most of the space, was a huge spaceship. At least I assumed that was what it was, since the last time I’d seen it, it had been in flight. Yeah I know, when you assume you make an ass of you and me. Okay, let’s just say my best guess was spaceship.

  “I can feel the energy coming off of it.” Aunt Octavia stood near the ship, hands up and facing it. “Amazing!” she whispered.

  I can’t say I felt any energy, but it was an awesome sight. Huge, saucer shape, markings I couldn’t begin to identify. Incredible!

  More of the little gray creatures appeared, and soon human and alien alternated in a rough semi-circle with the open end at the ship. The aliens began an odd chant, which Aunt Octavia quickly joined in. I couldn’t seem to catch the sounds or the melody, but chanting or not, I soon felt tingling power move through me.

  The next few minutes was the most incredible I’ve ever experienced. The sound that I both heard and felt vibrating through my body tingled and left me breathless. It was a sensual, almost sexual experience—which I know sounds weird, but it was. I swear. The energy peaked and suddenly the ship began to wobble and emit its own, similar yet somehow different, sound.

  Everybody cheered in their own way, and hands dropped.

  “Thank you,” the original alien said. I know it was him, or her, because her eyes were just slightly larger and had a bit of a curve at the outside corners. Kind of like he, or she, was perpetually smiling.

  We all said thank you and goodbye. I shook the alien’s hand—gently—and told him, her, I hoped I saw him, or her, again. Did they even have genders? I promised myself I’d find out one day. Right now, I had to rush to catch up with Aunt Octavia and Mom, who were heading out rapidly. Liza was a little ahead of me, but she slowed down until I caught her. “How come the older two have more get-up-and-go than us?” she asked.

  “Beats me,” I gasped, “but I may have to take up jogging.”

  “Not me,” Liza said. “I’ll keep my knees intact, thank you.”

  “Excellent point.”

  We hurried in silence until we got back to the coming museum’s unfinished parking lot. Mom and Aunt Octavia took off in Mom’s car, and Liza and I stood for a minute beside our side-by-side vehicles. “Liza, are you angry with me?”

  She blinked and made a face. “Do I look angry?”

  “No, but I know Steve is mad at me.”

  “He’s not mad, he’s just worried that contacting the non-humans like you did could upset the delicate balance between our kind and theirs. Especially since it was the faeries you picked to talk to. They’re an odd lot.”

  “I just wanted to help.”

  “I know, and so does Steve. He had to jump your case, but he’s still your friend. I wouldn’t worry.” She touched my arm. “For what it’s worth, I understand why you did what you did. Just don’t do it again.”

  Her at
tempt at a chastising expression almost had me grinning, but I knew better than to push her too hard. “I’ll try to be good.”

  “You do that, Maddie. Now I have to go to work.”

  She got in her car, and I got in mine. I might not have work to do, exactly, but there were things I still wanted to investigate.

  ****

  Ten minutes later, I arrived at the county courthouse, which is conveniently located in the middle of downtown Ugly Creek. Once a bustling little town, today most of our stores were located in outlying areas. Still, there’d been a resurgence of businesses in town, and I was glad. The beautiful little streets might not be very wide, but they were filled with history.

  Mac was busy directing his small crew. I probably should have left him alone to do his thing, but I didn’t get where I am by ignoring people. I edged toward him, and waited until he had a moment alone to get close to him.

  “Really stealthy, filming in the middle of town.”

  He smiled at me, and my heart stuttered. “That’s the plan. It should be hard to attack us out here in the middle of everything.”

  “Smart.”

  “Thank you.”

  I held up my phone, with the text from him telling me the shoot was at the courthouse. “And how did you get my phone number?”

  He grinned, and double dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “You have your sources, I have mine,” he said.

  Yeah, I should have been mad, or at least highly irritated. What I did was smile back and go find my folding cloth chair so I could watch the filming.

  Did I mention double dimples? Sigh.

  The first couple of hours I sat back in my chair and enjoyed the fresh autumn air. This was my hometown at its best. I didn’t miss the craziness of DC at all.

  That scared me. A lot.

  “So this is how you make a living.”

  I shrugged and took a left turn around the truth. “Is there something wrong with my job?”

  Greg opened a black portable cloth chair and sat beside me. “Just doesn’t seem like hard work. I was a little jealous for a minute.”

  I gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “That’s because we’re here in Ugly Creek. If we were back in DC I’d be struggling to find time to pee.”

  One eyebrow shot up. “A bit crass, but I get your point.”

  “Greg.” I swallowed back the trepidation. “You really like DC. I grew up here, and I love Ugly Creek.”

  He looked at me for a moment, as if deciding whether to call the guys with the sleeves that tie in the back. I smiled at him. Good luck putting me in the batty bin.

  Footsteps warned me of an approach, and I looked up to see who it was. Mac headed straight to Greg and held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Gibson McFain. It’s my documentary we’re filming here.”

  Greg stood to shake hands. “I’m Greg Starling. I must say I was very impressed with your Senator Carson documentary.”

  Gibson’s expression went dark. “Are you a journalist?”

  “No,” Greg chuckled. “Actually, I consult for a national corporation.”

  “How interesting. So, you know Madison.”

  “We’re close.” The smile Greg shot at me dripped with possessiveness. I had an urge to slap him for it, but I managed a smile.

  The hairs on my nape tickled, and I saw Mac studying me with narrowed eyes. He turned and walked away.

  I will not admit to wanting to go after him.

  “How about we get some lunch?”

  I wasn’t hungry, but getting away from the taping site—and Gibson McFain—seemed like a good idea. Strange, Greg getting all twisted up and weird about me. In fact, just seeing him in Ugly Creek was bizarre.

  “Who is that woman?” Greg whispered.

  I looked where he indicated. “Kate Stone, Gibson’s assistant.”

  “No, the other one.”

  Okay, weird. “That’s Haven Reyes, the photographer from Capitol Spy Weekly. I wonder why she’s still here?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?”

  “Hmm?” Oh, crap, I didn’t intend to let that bird out of the cage. “We have all the photos we need.” I glanced at Greg. He was holding his phone up, and for a second I thought I saw a picture of Haven on it.

  “Sorry, my phone vibrated.” He turned away.

  I must be seeing things. A glance to the side, and I saw Mac looking my way. I smiled his way, but he only frowned back. Why did his frown make me feel sad, and even a little guilty?”

  Chapter 11

  “I want to interview you for the documentary.” Mac smiled at me, and my heart beat harder.

  I had hoped Greg would find something else to do after lunch, but he’d insisted on coming back to the courthouse lawn with me to watch the filming. Currently he was glaring at the man standing in front of me, and I felt the heat coming from both of them.

  “Why would you want to interview me?”

  Mac moved slightly closer. “Because you’re an Ugly Creek native and a successful journalist. Why wouldn’t I want to interview you?”

  “It is pretty amazing, Maddie.” Greg smiled a little too wide. “You came from this tiny little nowhere place, and now you’re a reporter in DC. You’ve come a long way, babe.”

  A cord of anger wrapped around me and tightened. I wanted to slap Greg, but I refused to do that here in public. I forced a little smile for him and turned back to Mac. “When do you want to do this interview?”

  “I’ll get back to you on that,” he said, and turned to his work, sliding a glare over Greg as he moved.

  “Maybe he can do that tomorrow, then we can cut out of here and go somewhere interesting.”

  I stared at Greg, astounded at his dullness. “I’m working.”

  “No you aren’t.” His gaze caught mine and held tight. “You’re on vacation, so I thought we could make it a real holiday. Maybe go to the Bahamas or something.”

  “How do you know I’m not working?”

  He shrugged. “I called your boss.”

  My anger turned icy. “You what?”

  “I was going to ask him if you could get some time off. He told me you were already on a break. So, I thought we could take advantage of it.” He took my hand in his. “I know you’d like to be in this little movie thing, but let’s blow this tiny spot on the map.”

  “I want to stay here, Greg. That’s why I asked for time off. This is my hometown.”

  “You can’t help that.”

  I was shaking. “I told you, I love Ugly Creek.”

  He blinked, as if he was beginning to get the idea. “Okay, then you think about the Bahamas, and let me know.”

  He turned and walked away as I sent visual darts into his back. Apparently he wasn’t getting the idea. Maybe a two-by-four upside his head would open up a brain cell or two.

  I pushed back my violent fantasy and turned to watch the interview of an older woman. She had a fascinating story to tell, and I quickly got caught up in her description of Ugly Creek during the Great Depression.

  “We made all our clothes out of flour sacks,” the woman was saying.

  Half my attention stayed on the amazing stories of survival without the necessities of life. I made a note of her name and made a note to talk to her later about an article. Capitol Spy Weekly wouldn’t be interested, but I might wring permission out of Mr. Grainger to submit it to another magazine.

  The other half of my attention was firmly centered on two very different men. Greg was clueless, but he was just who I would have described if someone had asked me about the perfect man for me. And then there was Mac. Arrogant, bossy, didn’t care who he hurt to get to the top.

  Or had I been wrong about him all along? Either way, I had no business thinking the thoughts I did about him. He wasn’t the kind of man I needed in my life. I needed stability, loyalty, caring, understanding.

  Mac was looking at me, his gaze touching mine with a warmth I couldn’t fathom. Who was this person?

  I felt a brush against my le
g, and reached down for my favorite little furry pain in the rear. “What’s up Gizmo?”

  “Doing some recon,” he said.

  “Find out anything?”

  “Just that Kate person is still trying to find a Bigfoot.”

  “I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Nothing yet. It’s not time.”

  Okay. Good to know. I scratched the fuzzy varmint’s head, and he lay happily on my lap while the filming finished up.

  I put Gizmo on the ground and was getting my things ready to go when I heard footsteps. I looked up, and Mac was standing a foot from me. “I see your boyfriend took off.”

  “Greg’s not my boyfriend.”

  “He thinks he is.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe you should set him straight.”

  “Maybe I should.” Looking into Mac’s warm eyes, I couldn’t believe I’d put up with Greg for so long. Mac might be wrong for me, but what I was feeling at the moment seemed all too right.

  “Have dinner with me tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  Mac turned, and even though he hadn’t touched me, I sort of felt like he’d been holding me up, and I had to concentrate to regain my stability.

  Smiling, I finished getting my things together, then scooped Gizmo up into my arms and headed toward home.

  ****

  Just before seven, a knock had me flying down the stairs. I did the whole standing in front of the door and checking my clothes and patting my hair deal before I opened the thing. My huge smile wilted when I saw who held the flowers.

  Greg held out the pretty, yellow, whatever-they-were flowers. “I came to apologize. This is your hometown, and I had no right to say bad things about it.”

  Crap! “Greg, now is not a good time.”

  By the time I’d finished the sentence, he was standing in Mom’s foyer. “Really, Maddie. Give me a chance to make it up to you. We can go up to Knoxville and eat at a real restaurant. I checked online, and they have a French restaurant that has four stars. I managed to snag us a reservation.”

  He apologized. Maybe he wasn’t that bad, it was just the way he’d been raised. “Look, Greg. I appreciate your apology. I just—”