Page 23 of Unraveling Fate

“Of course.” He wore an expensive-looking suit and carried his silver-handled walking stick, despite the jeans and sneakers of everyone else. “I plan to support Mr. Richards at every step. Although,” he said, glancing around the room. “It is rather chaotic in here.”

Cadenza lifted an eyebrow and nodded. “You’re not wrong.”

The volume in the room shot up, covering his next comment. She motioned to the mass of people and pointed to her ear to show she hadn’t heard him.

Mr. Pearce leaned closer. Her hearing crackled again, and she tugged at her earlobe.

“Canon is fortunate to count you as a friend, Ms. Cavalieri,” he repeated. “I hope to see you at more of his rallies. You lend elegance to the room. And please, call me Vasilios.” He touched his forehead with the tip of his cane in farewell and moved off through the party.

Cadenza threaded her way through the bodies to the stage. A volunteer wearing a “Canon Richards for State Senate” T-shirt handed her a pamphlet detailing Canon’s platform. The crowd jostled, bumping her against the person next to her.

“Sorry!”

“Caddie!” Drostan smiled, a paper plate of fruit and chocolate cake in his hand.

“Drostan?” Cadenza smiled back, relieved to find a familiar face. “You came too?”

“Aye, aye. Got to support our boy, don’t we?”

Cadenza held up the pamphlet. “You really think he can do this? Get elected, I mean.”

Drostan chuckled and popped a grape in his mouth. “After what I’ve seen him manage to do at the shop? I don’t thinkthere’s much he can’t do if he wants to. Mind you, we could do a lot worse than young Canon.”

“You think?”

“I do. He’s been a good comfort to me the last year or so. I was right lonely, all my boys gone, and not even your father, God rest him, to keep company with anymore. And then up comes this hotshot salesman, smart clothes, handsome face. He could be in San Francisco, or the valley the weekends, but instead he sits up here and plays board games with this old bugger.” He pointed a thumb at himself. “Goes regularly down to the Veteran’s Museum here too. Records the lads telling their stories. Doesn’t want them to feel like their contributions didn’t matter, you know? He’s a good man, under all those sales techniques.”

Cadenza’s brow furrowed. She’d seen that there was a real face under Canon’s salesman mask. She wished he’d let it show more. “I’m glad you’ve had good company, Drostan. Speaking of which, I am happy for you, but if you need to talk about Taran being?—”

“Well, I’m off the now,” he interrupted. “Can’t leave the other lads up at the lot on their own for too long. I’ll see you back at home.” He patted her hand and headed out the door. She sighed. Maybe she’d try again tomorrow.

On the far side of the room, Canon held court, shaking hands for photo ops. Every so often, his eyes took on a brief, unfocused look before he answered an attendee’s question. Cadenza narrowed her eyes. He couldn’t really tell what someone wanted, could he? That would be too bizarre.

She huffed a laugh at herself.Like I’ve got room to judge about bizarre. At least Canon is brave enough to own what he does. Whatever it is.

A fresh influx of people squeezed through the front door, three older women hoisting a banner that read, “Seniors forRichards.” The crowd shifted to make room, and someone stepped on Cadenza’s foot. Time to go.

She pushed her way through the room to Canon’s side. “Sorry,” she interrupted a reporter mid-question. “Canon, I’m going to head out.”

“Cadenza, good timing.” He grinned and pulled her into the line of people posing. “Just grab a quick picture with us first, ok?” He waved the group closer together and draped his arm around her shoulders. “Squeeze in, everyone.”

Flashes lit the room, and the reporter launched back into her question. Canon ignored her.

“Thank you for coming.” He gave Cadenza a one-armed hug. “I owe you. Breakfast tomorrow morning?” Excitement colored his cheeks. Cadenza smiled, recognizing the look of performance adrenaline on a true extrovert.

“We’ll see,” she laughed. “You might be too tired. Good luck with the rest of the evening.”

Orange barrelsand a detour sign blocked the road back up the hill.

“When did they start that?” she asked the empty car. There hadn’t been any roadwork on the waytothe Opera Hall.

She followed the detour sign through a side road to a shopping center access street. A line of other cars clogged the route, and Cadenza pulled into a parking spot going over the mental map of shortcuts she’d taken as a teenager. Some of the stores had changed since she left Sonora, and the parking lot had shifted where the county had redone the access streets, but over there was the movie theater she’d worked at in the summers. This street running through the parking lot was Old Wards FerryRoad, which led to the service road off the back gate of Norroway Automotive, as Taran had shown her last night. She tapped her chin, debating. The traffic on the detour route moved a whole two cars forward.

After the mob of people at the Opera Hall, an empty road sounded beautiful. The back road through Norroway’s was wide enough for a car, she could drive all the way up to her apartment. Maybe she’d see the owl this time. The image of Taran in the starlight flashed through her mind, but she brushed it aside. She wasn’t doing this in hopes of seeing him again. She wasn’t.

Besides,back roads are more fun. Vero, Babbo?

She backed out of the parking spot and turned onto Old Wards Ferry Road. From Taran’s description, the service road turn couldn’t be far. And if she drove all the way from the back gate to her apartment and didn’t see Taran, she could always see who was home at the cottage.