Page 90 of Hunt for You

And then I remembered I was supposed to see Gerald that afternoon, and my entire body recoiled.

No no no no no.

And then I remembered why I’d fledtoVigoríyesterday and my breath whooshed out of me.

I had to find it—buried in a pocket of my cloak—but got my phone out and dialed Gerald’s office.

He’d given me his personal number to text in an emergency last year, but I ignored that. I didnotwant to talk to him.

“Doctor Fisher’s office, this is Natalie! How can I help you?”

I faked a smile because I knew people could hear it in your voice, and spoke as calmly as possible. “Hi, Natalie. I’m supposed to see Gerald this afternoon, but I’m going to have to cancel this week’s appointment. A family friend passed away and I have to go visit his, er, people today.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry to hear that! What was your name and I’ll get that taken care of.”

“Thank you. This is Bridget.”

There was a very still, very silent moment at the other end of the phone, and I closed my eyes and mouthed a swear.

“Bridget? Bridget Thompson?”

Was that the last name I’d used with them? I thought so. “Yes.”

“Ah, I see. I’m so sorry to hear about your friend, Bridget.”

“That’s okay. It’s just one of those things.”

“Of course, of course. I know that Doctor Fisher would still want to talk to you—”

“I know he would too, but tell him I haven’t missed an appointment in over a year and I won’t miss next week. This is a very real loss. It’s my old high school chaplain. His name is Richard Fitch. Gerald can look it up if he wants to.”

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but look, Bridget, Doctor Fisher has been really clear that if you’re canceling an appointment he wants to speak with you personally, so if you could just hold for a brief moment—”

“No, I can’t. I have to leave right now. I was up late and my car was towed and it’s a whole thing. But I have to leave. I’m sorry. Please tell Gerald I’ll see him next week. I’m going to see Richard Fitch’s people—tell him that. He can look it up.”

“I know but—oh, look, Doctor Fisher is here now—”

“Goodbye, Natalie. Thanks for your help.”

I clicked the END button on the phone before she could have time to hand it to him, and muttered a curse as I turned the phone off completely. The battery was nearly dead anyway. I’d need to charge it while I was driving. I would tell Gerald about all these details next week. They weretrue.

Then, just to make italltrue, I grabbed my keys and purse and ran out to the car that was still sitting in the driveway and started driving to the little church on the side of the highway, praying that the hot Priest didn’t mind drop-ins, because there was no way I could stomach talking to Gerald today—my skin would actually split and my guts would fall out.

But it would use up a lot of time to drive out there and beg the tattooed priest for some time. And that would solve the problem of Gerald.

Right?

Right.

I was standing at the closed double-doors of the church, rattling the knob and swallowing hard. I knew I was acting weird, but I’d lost my nerve for just walking up to that little cottage and forcing the Priest to deal with me. I’d had the idea that if I could get someone at the church then it was their job and—

“Bridget? Are you okay?”

I whirled, clutching one hand to my chest—see, I was learning to be a pearl clutcher already—to find Sam standing there at the bottom of the steps.

He was in jeans. And a slim-fitting sweater. His hair was tousled deliciously. And he was looking at me like I was crazy.

“I wasn’t trying to break it!” I shrilled.