Free Notes from Ghost Town by Kate Ellison Page A

anyone there, will your credits transfer from that
art
school?
    I nod and smile and answer
oh, yes
to every question, whether or not it’s true.
    “Ted?” She says, leaning her mouth toward the little intercom at the end of the hallway as she presses a small white button beside it. Ted’s voice reaches us, crisply, through the speaker: “In my office, honey. You need something?”
    Clare places one deep-tanned hand on my shoulder and guides me to the door of Ted’s office, knocking gently. “Olivia is here. Are you decent?” She giggles, squeezing my shoulder. I hear Ted’s chair scoot back against the wood floor.
    “Olivia! Come in, come in,” he says, flinging open the door. He puts a meaty hand on my shoulder and ushers me inside—the bumpy slope of his nose especially prominent in the office’s shadowy light. He’s wearing a darkHarvard T-shirt and well-tailored medium-gray pants that I’m guessing by the shade and cut of them are khaki. His office smells like cedar and cologne—or maybe it’s just cologne made to smell like wood. “Do you need anything, sweetheart? Some ice water? Tea? Coffee?” Ted offers me a seat on the other side of his dark-wood desk.
    “Oh, and we’ve got a fabulous quiche Marjolie made us if you’d like some of that,” Clare pipes in from the doorway; I didn’t realize she was still there. The hand on her hip sparkles with a rock the size of Texas. With the other hand, she fiddles with the strand of pearls around her neck. “Leeks and Gruyère. You’re welcome to stay for dinner, of course!”
    “I’m okay,” I say, running my finger through the deep, tribal-looking carvings along the arms of my chair. “I ate before I got here. And I promised I’d have dinner at home tonight.”
    “Make sure you say good-bye before you leave, sweetheart.” Clare flashes me a dazzling white smile and steps back into the hall. I fiddle with the chair arms some more. Ted leans back in his swivel chair and runs a hand through his thinning hair.
    “It really is good to see you, Olivia. We’ve missed you around here. I know your dad misses you, too.”
    I try to hide my disbelief. “He’s busy with wedding stuff….” I knock my feet together softly.
    “Trust me,” Ted says. “He’s working hard right now, but he loves you like crazy. He talks about you all the time.”He leans forward, and rests his forearms on the desk. “So—to what do I owe the pleasure, little miss?”
    I clear my throat, inhale deep. “It’s—it’s actually about Mom.”
    “Your mom?” He’s obviously startled. “I don’t know if I’ll be of much help, but I can try. Go ahead and shoot.” He moves a pen from the top of his desk into a drawer in front of him, rests his hands on top of one another.
    “I just wanted to know how to get in touch with her lawyer … Cole. Something Cole.”
    “Carol?”
    Yes. Carol. There we go
. “I—I have some questions I want to ask her about Mom’s case.” I fight the urge to cross my arms. Even speaking the words into this vast office makes them feel hopeless.
    “What kind of questions?” he asks, watching me steadily.
    I hesitate, look at the shine and shadow of the desk. “Well, the hearing’s next week … so, I guess I just want to hear a little more about what she’s going to say, and, you know, what she—what Carol—thinks is going to happen. If there’s any new evidence that … that something might change.” I look back up at Ted. Radiating from his eyes is pity so full and thick I feel immediately stupid.
    He rubs his chin, shifts in his king-sized chair, picks up his Blackberry and consults it, then scribbles something on a bit of paper and slides it across the desk to me.
Carol Kohl
. I had the name spelled wrong. “Here’s Carol’s phone number and address.” he says, “But—I don’t wantyou to get your hopes up too much, Liv. This is painful stuff you’re digging into. I’d really hate to see you disappointed.” He sighs