No Rules(21)

“Never mind,” Donovan said, with a sharp glare at Avery, who shot him a resentful look but shut up. “What did he tell you?”

“I know you want the exact words, but I don’t remember them. It was a story about a wolf and a rabbit who are invited to a housewarming party when the beaver family builds a new lodge. The main character arc is that the rabbit is timid. She’s afraid to travel and afraid of water. The beaver lodge is smack in the middle of a river, and the wolf wants her to trust him to get her there safely, but rabbits are naturally deathly afraid of wolves.” She rushed through it, already aware of the tolerant smile on Mitch’s face and rolled eyes from Avery, their lives so far removed from children’s stories that they couldn’t relate. “It wasn’t anything I could use, though.”

“Did he do anything while he talked, like sneeze or scratch his head?” Evan asked.

She gave him a puzzled squint. “No, why?”

“Code,” Donovan said. “It would have meant something. Why couldn’t you use his story?”

“Because the wolf and rabbit aren’t from my latest series. The stories all center around Gordon Groundhog and his best friends in the Mossy Log Meadow, a turtle and a snake.”

A snake with an adorable lisp, a cute turtle, and a cuddly groundhog. Kids loved them. But belatedly, she realized how silly her characters must sound to tough commandos trained to risk their lives in dangerous situations. Cute and cuddly were not in their vocabulary.

Kyle rubbed his cheek, seeming to struggle for the right words. “You, uh, you write books about a groundhog who lives in a mossy meadow?”

“Mossy Log Meadow,” she corrected, not caring that she sounded prickly and defensive. “The name evokes feelings of softness and security for kids. The softness of the moss, and the security of the hollow log that little animals can hide in. The same way a scared turtle can duck inside its shell. And seeing a snake as a friendly playmate helps kids get over the pervasive fear of snakes.” Avery’s mouth developed an amused twitch, and Mitch snickered. Jess stuck her chin up. “Maybe it’s not as momentous as terrorists and hostages, but its basic child psychology and kids love it. So does my editor. I have a contract for the next three books. Wally’s idea didn’t fit with the plan.”

“Did you tell him that?” Donovan asked.

“Yes,” she said, relieved to focus on someone who wasn’t making fun of her stories. “I told him I couldn’t do a wolf and rabbit book right now. He said maybe I could use it later. I doubt it, but I agreed, just to pacify him.”

“Okay.” Donovan nodded as if changing the subject pacified him, too. “Then what?”

She told them about every trivial side topic she could think of until Kyle complained, “Can we skip the parts about rabbits and vegetables and get to the message?” she said.

“There is no message,” Jess said for the hundredth time.

Donovan turned to Evan. “I’m pretty sure Wally used the children’s story as a lure to get Jess to see him. Maybe we should skip ahead.”

Jess sighed. “And maybe I should save you all some time.” They all looked at her, but she spoke to Evan. “You said I should mention if I noticed anything unusual. I did, and that was it. Every chance he got, Wally kept bringing the conversation back to his story.” She realized she’d picked up their habit of calling her father Wally. It sounded strange to her ears, but appropriate, since her father was more of a stranger to her every minute.

“There had to be something else,” Donovan insisted.

She gritted her teeth. “There wasn’t.”

“Just groundhogs and turtles and snakes,” Mitch said, and snickered. She simmered and decided he wasn’t so nice after all.

“And a mossy log,” Avery added, pointing a manicured fingernail at Donovan’s notepad. “Don’t forget the log.”

Screw you, Jess thought, drilling her with a hard stare. The Mossy Log stories had won numerous awards, no matter what Avery thought.

Kyle shook his head. “We have to be missing something. There must have been a signal, and you just didn’t realize it meant something. Did he drop his napkin at any point during the meal?”

“No.”

“Ask for more water?”

“No.”

“Scratch his ear? Sneeze?”

“No. What kind of stupid codes are those, anyway? What if a sneeze just meant he had a cold?”

“Then he would have said something to that effect so we wouldn’t be confused.” Evan’s calm voice was obviously meant to soothe her. “Otherwise sneezing, for instance, would mean that whatever he’d just said should be taken to mean the opposite. Such things allow us to pass information even when someone might overhear it. Wally could have communicated to us through codes without you knowing it. It’s subtle and elegant in its simplicity.”