True believer - Nicholas Sparks [119]
She knew she held a romanticized view of them, one that shifted with her moods. Sometimes she liked to think of them as fun-loving and chatty; other times she liked to believe they were quiet listeners. Right now she wanted to think of them as wise and strong, people who would give her the sort of advice that would make everything less confusing. She was tired of making mistakes in her life. That’s all she’d ever done, she thought despondently, and right now she knew she was on the verge of making another, no matter what she did.
Across the river, only the lights from the paper mill were visible through the fog, and the town itself was lost in a dreamy haze. With the train approaching shortly—according to Jeremy’s schedule, anyway—Alvin made one final check on the camera facing Riker’s Hill. That was the tricky shot. The one on the trestle was easy, but because Riker’s Hill was both distant and shrouded in mist, he wasn’t absolutely certain the camera would work. It wasn’t designed for long-range photography, which was exactly what was needed here. Though he’d brought along his best lens and high-speed film, he wished Jeremy had mentioned this little detail before he left New York.
Jeremy hadn’t been thinking clearly for the last few days, so he supposed he could be forgiven. Normally, in a situation like this, Jeremy would have been talking and joking nonstop, but as it was, he hadn’t said much of anything for the last couple of hours. Instead of being the easy, vacation-like shoot he thought it would be, the past couple of hours had begun to seem like work, especially with the chill. This wasn’t what he’d signed on for, but whatever . . . he’d just raise his fee and send the bill to Nate.
Meanwhile, Jeremy was standing at the rail with his arms crossed, staring into a cloud bank.
“Did I mention that Nate called earlier?” Alvin asked, trying again to engage his friend.
“He did?”
“He woke me up from my nap,” Alvin said, “and began screaming at me because you didn’t have your cell phone on.”
Despite his preoccupied mood, Jeremy smiled. “I’ve learned to keep it off as much as possible.”
“Yeah, well . . . I wish you would have told me.”
“What did he want?”
“The same thing. The latest update. But get this: he asked if you’d be able to get a sample.”
“A sample of what?”
“I figured he was talking about the ghosts. If there was ooze or something. He had the thought that you could show it to the producers at the meeting next week.”
“Ooze?”
Alvin raised his hands. “His word, not mine.”
“But he knows it’s just the light from the paper mill.”
Alvin nodded. “Yeah, he knows. He just thought it might be a nice touch. You know, the big ta-da to really impress them.”
Jeremy shook his head in disbelief. Nate had had a lot of crazy ideas over the years, but this one took the cake. He was like that, though. Anything that popped into his head came out of his mouth, and half the time, he wouldn’t even remember saying it.
“He also said you should call,” Alvin added.
“I would,” Jeremy said, “but I left my cell phone back at Greenleaf.” He paused. “You didn’t tell him about the diary, did you?”
“I didn’t even know about it then,” Alvin said. “You didn’t tell me until after he called. Like I said, he woke me up from my nap.”
Jeremy nodded thoughtfully. “If he does call you again, just keep it to yourself for a while, okay?”
“You don’t want him to know that the mayor’s running a scam?”
“No,” he said. “Not yet.”
Alvin looked at him. “Not yet, or not ever?”
Jeremy didn’t answer right away. That was the real question, wasn’t it? “I haven’t decided.”
Alvin squinted through the lens once more. “It is a tough one,” he said. “It might be enough to make the story, you know. I mean, the lights are one thing, but you have to realize that the solution isn’t all that interesting.”
“What do you mean?”
“For television. I’m not so sure they’re going to be interested in the fact that a passing train causes the lights.”
“It isn