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“Why?”
“I didn’t ask. I just assumed because of our monetary situation.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll give them a call. Then I need to go to Denver and find out what the hell’s in this safe-deposit box.”
“Yeah. Let me know when you do that.”
“I will. I’m not sure when I can. So much is going on here in town.”
“You need to make the time.”
He’s right. I mentally add it to my huge-ass to-do list.
John Lambert is serving the Murphys with papers this morning—papers that tell them to leave their building for three days so a potential gas leak can be investigated and, if necessary, repaired by the city. Dale and I need to search the place during that window.
I ignore the surge of acid in my stomach, or at least I try to. I hate that I did this. I hate it with a passion. But was there any other choice?
I swallow down the disgust at myself. No time. The key. Denver. It will all have to wait.
Who the hell has been in this house?
Chapter Two
Callie
I arrive early to work.
Why not? I didn’t sleep at all. Between thoughts of Pat Lamone’s return to Snow Creek and how Donny and I left things…
Sleep wasn’t going to happen, and it didn’t.
I stop at Rita’s for some black coffee. Ava’s bakery sits across the street, fresh almond croissants in the display case.
They’re not even the slightest bit appetizing.
My appetite has gone on hiatus.
Freaking Pat Lamone. Already back to his old games, spreading lies about Rory and our family. How long has it been? Ten years?
Yeah, ten years. Aren’t people supposed to mature after ten years?
I guess we got complacent. We thought those times were gone forever.
Well…we chased him out of Snow Creek once. We can do it again if we have to.
Though I’d really like to catch a break. Just once. One break.
The fire. Our vines—gone. Law school—gone.
And now… Pat Lamone. If only he could be gone as I thought he was.
I sigh and sit down at a table in the café. I don’t have to be at work for a half hour yet. I take a sip of coffee and rub my forehead.
This will be a long day.
Being invisible has its perks. Sure, my sister’s the homecoming queen and all, and my brother was the big man on campus four years ago—the best quarterback our small town has ever produced.
But Caroline Pike is invisible.
She’s the one who earns the good grades, always makes the honor roll, and who, no matter how hard she scrubs her face, always has one or two zits to show for it.
I stare into the mirror in the restroom at Snow Creek High. The stench of stale cigarettes makes breathing a chore, but I’d rather be in here than out chatting in the hallway with all the others. Even the smell of marijuana doesn’t drive me away, and frankly, it smells like a skunk to me.
Jeannie Maguire, our school’s most notorious pothead, stumbles out of a stall, her blue eyes glazed and bloodshot. “Pike. What’s up?”
“You okay, Jeannie?”
“I’m great.” She smiles and leaves the bathroom.
I tried pot once with Jeannie and my cousin Jordan. I didn’t feel a thing, and I certainly don’t relish the idea of looking anything like Jeannie Maguire, walking around in a stoned haze.
But what else is there to do in Snow Creek?
Jeannie’s a townie.
I’m not. I live on my parents’ ranch, and there’s always something to do. My brother, sisters, and I don’t dare ever say we’re bored or Dad will put us to work.
I don’t mind helping out, but I never get bored. When I’m not busy with something else, I read.
My nose in a book.
Being invisible has its perks.
“Hi, Callie.”
I’m jolted out of my flashback by Donny’s voice.
He stands next to my table. His long and muscled legs are clad in black pants, and he wears a white button-down with a perfectly Windsor-knotted burgundy-and-blue striped tie. In his fingers, he crumples a black suit jacket. His hair is slightly unruly, but it only adds to his charm.
My heart starts to pound.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Same as you, apparently. Coffee run.”
“I could have gotten it. Why didn’t you text me?”
“Because I’m perfectly capable of getting my own coffee, Callie.”
He looks tired. Gorgeous, as usual, but tired. His eyes are heavy-lidded and slightly bloodshot.
He didn’t sleep any better than I did.
“Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk with you to the office.”
I drain the last of my coffee.
“Can I get you another?” he asks.
“Yeah. It’s a three-coffee kind of morning.”
“You too?”
I nod. Our disagreement last night is part of the issue, but only a bit. Donny doesn’t know about my past with Pat Lamone, and I’m hoping I can keep it that way. Rory and I will figure something out. She’s going to reach out to Carmen and Jordan today. The four of us will get together as soon as possible and put this to bed for good.
