Looking for Julie Read online

  Copyright © 2011 Jackie Calhoun

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  First published 2011

  Editor: Katherine V. Forrest

  Cover Designer: Judy Fellows

  ISBN 13: 978-1-59493-232-8

  Other Bella Books by Jackie Calhoun

  Abby’s Passion

  Education of Ellie

  End of the Rope

  Obsession

  Off Season

  Outside the Flock

  Roommates

  Seasons of the Heart

  Tamarack Creek

  Woman in the Mirror

  Wrong Turns

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my faithful first reader, Joan M. Hendry.

  Thanks also to Janet Elizabeth Smith for her firsthand knowledge of the American Birkebeiner, without which I would have been lost.

  Special thanks to Madeline K. Snedeker for her valuable input on UW-Madison and the city of Madison.

  Honorable mention goes to my editor, Katherine V. Forrest, who was my first editor twenty-some years ago.

  And, as always, special appreciation to those at Bella Books, who made this book possible.

  About The Author

  Jackie Calhoun is the author of the following Bella Books—End of the Rope, Wrong Turns, Roommates, The Education of Ellie, Obsession, Abby’s Passion, Woman in the Mirror, Outside the Flock, Tamarack Creek, Off Season and Seasons of the Heart (reprint). She also wrote Crossing the Center Line, an Orchard House Press book, and ten novels published by Naiad Press. Calhoun lives with her partner in northeast Wisconsin.

  For more information on her and her books, go to her website at www.jackiecalhoun.com.

  For comments and questions, e-mail her at [email protected].

  Chapter One

  Sam leaned over and spoke into a small opening in the glass window. She had always wondered if the glass was bulletproof but had never asked. “My name is Samantha Thompson, and I want to make an appointment with Dr. Julie Decker.” She had not seen Julie in months, and this person behind the glass looked unfamiliar.

  The young, heavyset woman, Linda according to the tag pinned to her sweater, gave her a perplexed smile. “There is no Dr. Decker here.”

  “But she was here. I was one of her…” What had she been anyway? “…patients,” she said.

  “Let me check.” Linda got up and said something to a vaguely familiar older woman seated in front of one of the computers, who looked Sam’s way.

  “Dr. Decker doesn’t work here anymore,” Linda said when she came back to the window.

  “But I need to talk to her.” It came out as a plea. “Do you know where she is?”

  The woman stared at her for a few heartbeats, before saying, “I don’t know where she is, but she’s probably on the web. Almost everyone is.”

  “Thanks.” Sam turned away.

  She took the stairs to the first floor. Outside, her breath vaporized in the cold. She jumped into the backseat of the old Escort idling in one of the visitors’ slots. “Let’s go,” she said to the driver, slamming the door and stuffing her hands back in her pockets.

  “Hey, that was quick. Everything okay?” Jamie asked from behind the wheel.

  Nothing was okay. Julie had been her safety net. “She’s not there anymore.”

  “Your shrink?” From beside Jamie, Nita turned to look at her roommate. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Sculpted facial features. Sam thought she was beautiful.

  She gave her a twisted smile. “Yeah, my fucking shrink. She could of told me she was leaving.”

  Jamie put the car in reverse and stepped on the gas. A horn blared and he stomped on the brake, his eyes wide in the rearview mirror. “Where the hell did that come from?” A black four-wheel-drive truck drove slowly past.

  Jamie opened the window far enough to shove a fist out.

  The truck stopped and an older, beefy guy, wearing a dirty ball cap jumped out of the driver’s side. “What you say, nimrod?”

  “Use your brakes, not your horn,” Jamie shouted and rolled his window up tight. He began to back again, but now the guy with the ball cap was pounding on the glass.

  “Hey, open up and say that again.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Nita said in a scared voice.

  Jamie shot backwards, narrowly missing the man. He put the car in drive and, tires squealing, sped past the parked truck.

  “Jesus, Jamie,” Nita said. “You want to get us all killed.”

  Sam was looking through the rear window, watching the guy climb into the truck. “Better step on it. He’s coming after us.”

  Jamie veered out of the parking lot, turned right on a one-way street going left and weaved through swerving traffic. Horns blew. Brakes screamed. Jamie made a sharp turn onto a side street and Sam let go of the door handle she’d been clutching.

  Jamie threw his violet-crowned head back in laughter just before pulling into a parking spot, seeking safety among kids and cars. “Guess we lost that dude.”

  “Think again,” Sam said. She’d been monitoring their backside.

  The truck double-parked next to them. The passenger window rolled down smoothly and a voice snarled, “Watch for me in your rearview mirror, you fucking freak.” The vehicle sprang forward and turned at the next corner.

  Sam’s heart raced. Jamie was always mouthing off to the wrong people. He’d suffered more than one black eye that way. “Let’s get out of here.” She watched the cross street, expecting the truck to double back around the block.

  “That was real smart,” Nita said, shooting a dark look at Jamie as he drove away.

  “Where do you want to go now?”

  Sam wanted to go back to the apartment she shared with Nita so that she could Google Julie on her Mac.

  “Take me home.” Nita looked and sounded mad. “I think you should re-dye your hair brown or something. If you’re going to do stupid stuff like yelling at people who can knock the shit out of you, you better look less conspicuous.”

  “Hey, I’ll still be driving the same fucking car.” The car with all the bumper stickers that said Peace and If You Can Read This You’re Too Close and Get A Life And Leave Mine Alone. Stuff like that.

  “I won’t be in it.”

  “Aw, come on, Nita.”

  “Hey, everyone carries guns these days. I don’t want to get shot because you hollered at the wrong person.” She was yelling.

  Sam said suddenly, “Better take me home too.”

  Nita quieted. She did that. She’d be hollering one minute and silent the next, like she couldn’t be bothered. Sam nervously turned the tiny fake diamond in her nose, her eyes on the traffic, alert for the black truck.

  Safely back at her apartment she typed Julie Decker in the Google slot and got some other Julie Decker who owned a business. Snowflakes swirled outside her bedroom window. Cold air seeped through.

  Sam had studied Julie’s diplomas on the walls of her office. She’d earned her bachelor’s, her master’s and her PhD in Psychology from UW-Madison. Julie had thought Sam had no longer needed her counseling. At the time, Sam had thought so too.

  She threw herself on the double bed and stared at the cracked ceiling. Nests of cobwebs swayed slightly in the corners. She told herself she was okay. She had a three-point grade average and a job and an apartment. Didn’t that signal progress?

  She’d gone to high school with Nita, but they hadn’t been friends then. When Nita asked her at the end of their so
phomore year if she wanted to share an apartment with her, she’d been thrilled. Now they lived in three rooms plus a dinky bathroom cut out of a large house off campus. Tiny trees and bushes grew in the gutters. The paint was scaling off the exterior. The storm windows were no longer attached to the rotten frames and banged in the wind. The hallways and stairs between apartments were filthy.

  Although Nita made Sam’s skin go hot and cold, she was terrified of offending her by making a move. Besides, Nita was obsessed with grades. Every free minute, she was studying or writing a paper or working at her job.

  Sam waited tables at the same place where Nita was a hostess. She didn’t like the job much. Customers frequently changed their orders or complained that everything was too spicy or not cooked enough or too cold. The cook yelled at her when she returned an order.

  Two days later Jamie called.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I’ve been texting you and getting no answer. Are you through with exams?”

  “Yeah. My parents are coming to get Nita and me tomorrow.”

  “I’ll take you home. That guy found me, the one in the truck.”

  A shiver galloped over her skin. “How?”

  “I was getting out of my car, and he nearly took my fucking door off. He blew his horn and I damn near wet my pants. God, doesn’t he have to go to work or something? I can’t wait to get out of here. What time is Nita’s last exam?”

  “Ten.”

  “Well, tell her to be ready.”

  She called out to Nita who was in her room, studying with the door open.

  “Tell him no more road rage,” Nita called back.

  She passed that on.

  “Never again,” he promised. “I’ll see you at noon.”

  Appleton was home and Sam had been there two weeks. Christmas and the New Year were memories. She had always loved Christmas. It was like a ceasefire had been called and an ambience of goodwill and calm descended on the household. She no longer snapped at her parents or sister and brother nor they at her. But now the calm had passed. Annoyance had rippled through her at her mother’s suggestion this morning—“Do you think you could do some wash? There are piles of dirty clothes in the basement.”

  Mostly her piles, she realized, even as she bristled. She glared at her mother, who waved a hand in defeat.

  “Forget it.”

  “Okay, Mom, I’ll do it. Anything else you want done?”

  Her mother shrugged. “You could clean up the kitchen. It looks like a disaster hit.”

  “Whatever.”

  Her mother’s eyes glinted dangerously, but she only said, “See you later.”

  “Yeah, later.”

  She’d cleaned up the kitchen and was lying on her bed waiting for the washer and dryer cycles to end when Jamie called.

  She tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear. “Hey, what’s happening?”

  “If I get more bored, I’ll be dead. Want to go somewhere?”

  “And do what?” She stroked Buddy, who was lying next to her. Her father always had a shit fit when he saw the mixed Lab on her comforter. He’d say, “Buddy has his own bed. Look, dogs don’t have shoes to take off, nor do they shower often. Get him off your bed. Now.” When everyone was gone either to school or work, though, she coaxed him onto the bed with her.

  “Ski. We can go to my Aunt Edie’s house in Point. Granite Peak is only a few miles up the road. She might go with us and pay for our tickets.”

  “She might pay for yours, not mine.”

  “Call Nita and see if she wants to go. She’s mad at me.”

  “I have to ask my parents first. When do you want to leave?”

  “Now, before that guy finds me.”

  Cold bumps chased each other across her skin. “What makes you think he knows where you are?”

  “I saw him when we left Madison. He was lurking around the corner.”

  “Have you seen him since?” Jamie was always in crisis mode. He made things up just for the excitement.

  “Not yet, but I expect to any minute.”

  “I’ll call Mom.” Sam and her family had gone to the Upper Peninsula for four days of skiing after Christmas. She’d worn her new winter jacket and mittens. The trip was a present to all of them. They’d had a fun time together. Now, though, she wasn’t sure whether her mother would be glad to see her go or disappointed. Sam was arguing with her about every little thing. She was so crabby that she didn’t even like herself. “This is Eleanor Thompson. May I help you?”

  “It’s me, Mom. Jamie asked me to go to Point with him. His aunt lives there, and we can stay with her and ski at Granite Peak.” It was a peak, albeit a small one when compared to the mountains out west where they had sometimes skied as a family, but there were some good, if short, runs. “That okay?”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about that. I’ll call you when I get there.”

  “Okay,” her mom said. “When are you leaving?”

  “Today.” She wanted to get off the phone and call Nita.

  “Have fun, sweetie. I love you.”

  She mumbled, “Me too,” and called Nita. “Hey, you want to go skiing?”

  “Can’t afford it.” Nita’s dad contracted out to several condo complexes in town, doing repairs and upkeep. Nita lived with her family in a small house in a modest neighborhood.

  Sam’s dad worked in an executive position at a paper mill. Her mom took care of claims for an insurance company. She was aware of the discrepancy between her family’s income and Nita’s. But just because Sam’s parents had money didn’t mean Sam had a ton of it. Her ski equipment had been a gift from her parents, and she’d been able to sock away her paycheck, because her mom and dad sent her a weekly allowance. They also paid her tuition and rent. Nita had a scholarship and a job and occasional infusions of money from her parents.

  “We’re going to stay with Jamie’s aunt. She lives in Point.”

  “Have fun. I don’t know how to ski.”

  “Maybe I won’t go.” After all, she’d just got back from a ski trip with her family. She could hang out with Nita instead.

  “Hey, go. Break a leg for me. Besides, I’m going back to Madison ASAP. Work calls.”

  “Jamie thought he saw the guy with the truck, so he thinks he has to get out of town.”

  “Serious? He and his big mouth are really going to get him into trouble.”

  Sam liked Jamie. Yes, he often spoke without thinking, but he was fun and funny and loyal and gay. Although he lived in the Fox Cities along the Fox River that included Appleton, he had gone to a different high school. She had met him on campus at a LGBT meeting. “Well, he’s fucking scared now.”

  “He should be. I’ll see you when you get back to Madison.”

  “I wish you’d go with us.” She sounded wistful, even to herself.

  Nita laughed. “I wouldn’t be any good anyway, and I hate not being good at something.”

  When Jamie pulled into the driveway, Sam staggered out the door with her skis and boots and poles and a backpack with clothes and other necessities. He jumped out of his parents’ van and grabbed the handle of the ski bag. “He’ll never find me in this,” he said, shoving her equipment next to his in the back of the van.

  “I was wondering how we’d squeeze our stuff in your car.” She climbed in the front seat. “Nita isn’t coming.”

  “Because she’s mad at me.”

  “Nope. No dinero.”

  “No hablo español.”

  They crossed the bridge and headed west on Highway 10. “What’s your aunt like?”

  “Aunt Edie? She’s great. You’ll like her.” He flashed a grin, and she thought how handsome he was, even with the violet hair. His fake diamond earring glittered in the light.

  “Is she married?”

  “She’s a lesbian. I thought you knew that.” He shot her another white-toothed smile. “She writes romances, but they’re about men an
d women. Women eat them up. You see them on store shelves in groceries and drugstores. She goes by Lauren James. Nobody would guess she’s gay from reading her books.”

  A wave of excitement swept through her, and she laughed. She’d never met a genuine author, much less a lesbian one. “I want to read one of her books, but aren’t there any lesbian romances?”

  “I asked her that once and she said it’s a small market and she started out with this publisher and felt a certain loyalty. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t talk about her books much. She’s a terrific skier.”

  Sam had sometimes wondered if Julie was a lesbian. She had seemed to understand Sam too well. Sam had been forced into therapy when she’d made a suicide attempt. She’d had two choices—go to counseling or leave the university. She’d never regretted the choice. Julie had given her a sense of self worth. She could think of a dozen things she now wanted to run by Julie.

  Jamie drove through a maze of streets with Christmas decorations on snowy lawns—blow-up snowmen and Santas and an occasional manger scene. He turned into a cul-de-sac and parked in the driveway of a brick ranch house. There were no Christmas decorations in Edie’s yard, but a tree with lights stood inside the bay window.

  “This is it. Grab your backpack and come on.”

  The woman who opened the door and ushered them inside with a smile was tall and big boned. Sam glanced at the Christmas tree and saw a comfortable looking sofa and chairs clustered around a fireplace.

  “Auntie, this is my friend Sam Thompson.”

  Edie took Sam’s hand and squeezed it. Sam was tall, but not as tall as Edie, who was only a little shorter than Jamie’s skinny six feet. Her deep-set eyes resembled Jamie’s and her dark blond hair was the color of his before he got the purple dye job. There was a remarkable resemblance between them.