“Hey, Ryan…”
The farmer turned back, waiting for me to finish.
“I’ll be out of town for a week or so. Harry and I have a job in the city. Keep an eye on Lola for me?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure no one bothers her.”
“If you run into the sarge at the bar, ask him, too?”
Ryan frowned. He didn’t question me. Worry must have been carved on every inch of my face because he nodded with solemn eyes. He understood.
We parted ways from there. Instead of driving into the hills, I drove back into town and pulled to a slow stop to park on the fringe. I had somewhere else I needed to go first.
The cops were useless. I ran my own patrol. Not just on Tuesday nights. Most nights. I made myself suffer through the agonising drive up to my place in the pitch-black because my nerves would be even more rattled if I didn’t take a walk across town.
I only made one stop.
Lola’s place.
The lights of the tiny cottage burned bright. I kept my eyes low, not trying to peek at Lola, but looking everywhere else for signs of anything out of the ordinary. Her bin was waiting by the gate for collection the next day. The lavender she’d planted along the fence looked pretty as a picture. Everything seemed secure. Nothing was out of place.
The night was cold enough to catch my breath in a misty sigh of relief.
The house next door was dark, but the lacy curtains of the front window edged to the side. I raised my palm and waved to Yolanda like I’d done last night and all the nights before. The shadow of her wrinkled hand waved back before the curtain swished shut.
It was the confirmation I needed to head home.
We were both still watching. Keeping an eye on Lola. Keeping her safe.
21
She Saw His Friend
Lola
The baking section wasempty.
No flour.
Determination set my jaw. It couldn’t be another case of small-town supply issues. I must have been looking in the wrong aisle, my thoughts jumbled, constantly twisting in knots trying to understand Aiden.
What were his secrets? How could he act so heartless and then so kind?
My mind was occupied trying to unravel the riddle in red-checked flannel when I bumped into someone else in the middle of the aisle.
I slid my glasses up my nose. “Sorry—”
My hand clapped over my mouth to hide the shock of seeing Evan’s bruised face. Mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, but not the violent purple lump blooming around the socket. His lip wassplit, and a sickening shade of green tinged the swelling along his jaw.
Was he…okay?
Evan’s head snapped left, then right. The shopping basket slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor. This was a man who’d treated me despicably, but squashing the empathy—the doctor—inside me was impossible.
I reached out a tentative hand. “Mr. Barnes—”
Evan yelped and dodged to the side before I could lay a finger on him. “Sorry, uh… my fault.” His sneakers tangled together, and he tripped backwards. “Sorry, Miss—Dr. Lola.” He took another step back, and another, until he disappeared around the aisle.
Silence followed for a beat until the bell over the door jingled.
