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She turned away in confusion, focusing on the brilliant blue sky and the dappled sunlight through the trees lining the street. It was a beautiful summer day. If only she could roll her window down and let the languid breeze carry her worries away, but they were far too heavy for that. Two nights from now Finn was going to do something outside his comfort zone, all because of her. With steely resolve, Cora began to make a plan. Even if he was right, and it wasn’t dangerous, she wasn’t going to take the chance.
14
On Wednesday night Cora reviewed her plan as she pulled on a pair of black jeans, a black T-shirt and her black knee-high boots. Then she wrapped a long black scarf around her neck, winding it high until it covered her chin. A loud clap of thunder sounded outside, and she yanked her bedroom curtain back to see a flash of lightning illuminate the street. Of all the nights for a summer storm, why did it have to be the night she needed to be an undercover superstalker?
Angel was curled on a chair in the corner, watching her rush around the bedroom. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned that she was dressed like a cat burglar, about to race headlong into a storm and possible danger. That was the wonderful thing about cats; they never interfered when you were busy making mistakes.
“Is this a bad idea?” she asked Angel, pausing to scratch him between the ears.
He meowed, which Cora preferred to interpret as a resoundingno.
“Good, because I have no idea what I’m heading into. Wish me luck.”
She tossed her hair into a bun, grabbed a dark hooded jacket from her closet and hurried before Liam could grill her on where she was going. She’d thought about inviting him to tag along, then decided she had to keep this adventure a secret. Finn was not the type of person to do anything shady, but Eli Shelton definitely was. If Finn got caught up in something that could jeopardize his reputation and career tonight, Cora didn’t want anyone else to witness it. She felt protective of Finn. He was genuine and kind, and he cared deeply about other people. Cora trusted Liam to back her up, but she knew he wasn’t crazy about Finn. If something went wrong tonight, Liam would blame him. She didn’t want that. Therefore, tonight was a solo mission.
It was eight-thirty when Cora rushed down the hall and made a beeline for the front door.
“Where are you off to, then?” Liam asked.
She startled, whirling to see Liam on the sofa. “Oh, I didn’t see you over there.”
He blinked sleepily at her. “Where else would I be?Appalachian Housewivesis on soon, and they’re about to make a right mess of things with the cider still.”
Cora smiled as she zipped on her jacket. She wondered if Liam realized his Irish accent grew more pronounced when he was on the verge of sleep.
“Are you to market?” he asked. “We’re out of those wee black biscuits with the sugar paste filling.” He was sprawled on the sofa with a fuzzy throw blanket and a bag of chips balanced on his perfectly flat stomach. It wasn’t fair that he ate like a starving man and never gained an ounce. He must’ve done something pretty stellar in a past life to be gifted with such a high metabolism in this one. If only she were that lucky.
“They’re called Oreos,” Cora said, grabbing her keys from a hook by the door. Sometimes he sounded like he was raised in an underground bunker. That village where he grew up in Ireland must’ve been more rural than most. Or maybe his memory was like his accent—it slipped when he was tired.
“Aye, lovely Oreos,” he said dreamily. “Straight from heaven, those.”
“Well, you’ll have to make a trip to the pearly gates on your own. I’m heading out to meet a friend, so I’ll be back late.”
“What friend?” He sat up, beginning to look suspicious. This was her cue to leave. “It’s already late.”
“Have fun with the cider still!” She gave a cheery wave and was out the door before he could grill her further. This whole interrogation routine with him was getting old. It seemed every time Cora went somewhere alone at night or—heaven forbid—she had a date, he practically waterboarded her with questions afterward. And no matter how many times she reminded him it was none of his business, he still acted like a cross between a broody, jealous lover and an overprotective older brother. It was so weird. He wasn’t interested in her romantically, so why did he care? Maybe Suzette was right, and it was a cultural thing. Suzette said Irish guys were territorial about two things: their whiskey and their women. But Cora wasn’t Liam’s woman. At some point he was going to have to understand that.
Her phone alarm chimed, reminding her it was time to get on the road. She quickly entered the address Eli had given Finn at his motorcycle shop and was soon heading north out of Providence Falls.
Half an hour into her drive the sky opened up, and Cora found herself in the middle of a torrential downpour. Heavy sheets of rain beat down on the windshield, making it almost impossible to see. She slowed her car to a crawl, checking the clock every few minutes in agitation. Why didn’t she think to check the weather? Summer storms weren’t uncommon in this part of the state. It was one of the things tourists remarked on whenever they visited. The day could dawn bright and cheery, only to turn into a summer squall by nightfall, complete with thunder and lightning. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with worry, she would’ve planned better.
When the rain finally cleared, she was way behind schedule. By the time she rolled into the gas station, it was twenty minutes past ten.
Gritting her teeth in frustration, she pulled to the side of the road just before reaching the gas station parking lot. The place looked deserted, the same as it had in the video footage of Slice and his friends. There was no sign of Finn or his car.
She was too late. Cora smacked her steering wheel, mentally kicking herself for not leaving her house sooner.
Suddenly, two men emerged from inside the store, carrying plastic bags and drinks. One was heavyset, with carrot-red hair, and the other was skinny with neck tattoos. Cora had never seen them before, but she did recognize the Booze Dog jackets they were wearing. Like Slice and his friends, the men settled against the wall. She could just make out their two motorcycles parked on the side of the building.
“What are you guys up to?” she whispered. When ten minutes passed, and they did nothing but talk and puff on cigarettes, Cora blew out a frustrated breath.Do something!She couldn’t just sit there for the next few hours, and she hated the idea of driving home a failure. It was just past ten-thirty. Finn was long gone by now. If she wanted to find out what Eli Shelton and the Booze Dogs were up to, then she was going to have to use her own skills as a shrewd, cunning police detective.
She checked her reflection in the visor mirror. With her hair in a tight bun, her pinched expression and the black hooded jacket and scarf, she looked like a cross between a Disney villain and a ninja assassin. Not going to work. If she wanted to charm a couple of biker guys and strike up a conversation, she’d have to look more approachable than this.
After shucking off her jacket, she unwound her scarf and tossed them both in the backseat. Then she pulled her hair free to hang loose around her shoulders, dug around in the center console and applied some lipstick. The result wasn’t great, but it was a little better. At least now she looked like an unassuming person out for a pleasurable, late-night cruise through a thunderstorm in the middle of nowhere. Not suspicious at all. She found a random music station, turned up the volume, rolled down her window and drove into the gas station parking lot.
The red-haired man gave her a cursory glance when she parked in front of the store, then turned his attention back to his phone. But the man with the neck tattoos blew out a plume of cigarette smoke and eyed her like she was a prize side of beef.
Cora gave him a doe-eyed smile, wondering what the hell she was going to say. She checked her phone to stall for time.
