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“Ah,” she quips. “Well…yes…I mean…once.” She sighs wistfully. “A long time ago.”
I don’t ask for details because I really don’t care. The only thing that concerns me at the moment is what I need to do to get rid of her. “What do you do?”
“I’m sorry?”
I know she heard me and I don’t think she’s that dense. “For a living?”
“Oh.” She smiles. “I’m a teacher…” Her smile expands to fill her entire face. “Kindergarten. I love that age.”
Of course. I’ve never seen a teacher in my whole life that looks like her. A model, or influencer, or whatever they’re calling them these days, sure. A trust fund baby, absolutely. But not a teacher.
“Interesting. Davis has told me nothing,” I say, and I wonder if he even thought to ask. With looks like hers, I’m guessing not many people do.
She waves a perfectly manicured hand in the air. “Sounds like Davey. You know how men are, always leaving out the finer details.”
Hearing her call him Davey sets my shoulders straight. No one has called him that, not since Mama. I wonder if she knows this. I wonder what else he’s told her.
“I mean, he hasn’t told me much,” she offers, and she’s a mind reader, this one. “He was just so excited to show me around his hometown that I couldn’t help but be excited, too. And then to come in on the biggest weekend of the year, I just feel like it was meant to be, him bringing me here.”
“Has it changed since the last time?” I’m fishing and she senses that.
“I really can’t say.” She shrugs coyly. “I was a child. I hardly remember.”
You’re still a child.
“I was bummed to miss the kick-off last night.”
Liar.
“Sometimes I get carsick and well, the whole thing with Gabby… It was a lot,” she says, and it looks like she might choke up. She’s not a teacher. She’s an actress.
“After Cole brought me back to the guest house—and he was so sweet, by the way, making sure I got in safe and made it into bed—I don’t know what got into me, only that I was so tired, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. And then, the next thing I know I woke up and Davey—”
I don’t want to hear anymore, so I cut her off. I hate that she calls him that. “You have to be careful about the heat. It can really getcha if you’re not used to it.”
“Yeah...” She finishes her coffee. “It was just so sweet the way he tiptoed in. And then he climbed into bed and I saw his face and I couldn’t believe it. The way he talked… I thought Jester Falls was safe.”
“It’s not safe,” I lie. Or maybe this is the truth. At this point, I can’t say.
“Well, someone really needs to do something about that.”
“Seems like they did.”
“No,” she quips. “That maniac is still out there. And after what he did to Davey… Well, someone really ought to take care of him…”
“Who’d you have in mind?” I ask facetiously.
She narrows her eyes. “I’m not as naïve as I look.”
Ashley Parker doesn’t expand on her sentiment, and I don’t ask her to. This might have been a mistake. “That,” I tell her, “I’m certain of.”
“Poor Davey.” I wince every time she speaks. Her tone is whiny, like nails on a chalkboard, and the hangover doesn’t help. “I really feel for him. He’s going to be moving slow for a while.”
I ignore her in favor of putting dishes away. I hired someone new last week, and no matter how many times I, or Julia, show her, she continues to do things her own way.
“He was supposed to take me dancing tonight,” she sighs. “Still. I’m so proud. He’s such a hero!”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
