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"You have news?" I asked, curious. Brady had mentioned something about setting up cameras and giving the footage to the Sheriff's office, but I'd figured it must not have been enough to use. The word would have spread through Campfire like wildfire if the Sheriff had made an arrest.
“Nothing shocking. Wes Johnson wasn’t the mastermind, just another pawn,” Gwen said grimly.
“How did he get wrapped up in this?” I asked.
“Easy. He was hired. An anonymous offer of cash and a free ticket to the auction if he’d play a little prank.”
“Nothing is truly anonymous anymore,” Jo said. “Can the person who hired him be traced?”
Gwen shrugged. “I’m sure the Sheriff is trying, but these days there are a lot of ways to hide your identity online. The county has a limited tech budget.”
Sophie tossed a stick into the fire. “So, you’re saying I’m going to have to be on the lookout when it comes to our spring event? This isn’t over?”
“Sorry, Sophie,” Gwen said.
“I just don’t understandwhy,” I said. “What real harm are we doing, rebranding the town and bringing in more tourist dollars?”
“I wish I knew,” Gwen grumbled, clearly dejected.
Conversation moved on to planning for Sophie’s spring ballooning event and how to engage more local artists with the hopes of bringing in larger crowds. When the fire died down, we packed up, dousing the embers.
I checked my phone after I clambered into my car, smiling when I saw the message from Brady.
Brady: You coming home tonight?
Home. We'd been spending most nights at his place, but he hadn't broached anything so serious as me moving in. Not yet.
I wavered. I wanted to be with him.Of course, I did. But part of me was reluctant to believe that Brady's house could be my home. To accept that he'd stick around long-term. We'd spent so much time together the last couple of months, first for the play, then dating and for the auction. Would our relationship fizzle now that we didn’t have the same schedule and excuses to see each other? I could tell that he cared. But how much? I'd thought that Scott and I were solid too, headed for something serious, before that relationship blew up in my face. I shivered, a flash of self-doubt washing through me.
Maybe a night alone at my place would be healthy. Just one. To get my head straight.
Eve: Tired tonight.
I bit my lip. I couldn't leave it at that. Not making plans to see him would wear on me just as much as worry over spending too much time with Brady.
Eve: I'll miss you.
Eve: How about dinner Friday night? My last client finishes at 6.
Brady: Can I bring you dinner? I have a favor to ask.
Eve: Anytime I don't have to cook, the answer is yes.
Brady: Noted.
Brady’s mention of a favor kept me up long after I should have been asleep. I’d give him just about anything in my power. That thought shook me. I’d already sunk too deep, cared too much. I clung to the faith that I wasn’t alone in sliding past a serious case of like into something that felt a lot like love.
Chapter 26
Brady
Myofficephonerangjust as I was preparing to leave for the night. Some instinct encouraged me to let it go to voicemail, grab my stuff, and lock up for the weekend. I'd been using the thought of tonight's date with Eve as a reward to get me through my work week. I wanted to be with her. See her smile. With the play over, it was harder to manufacture time to see her, and I hated that. She'd gone back to a fuller schedule at the shop, taking evening bookings for tattoos. And I missed her. But I also couldn't interfere with her career or her business.
Frowning, I grabbed my handset.
"Principal Gleason," I answered.
"Brady, it's Rebecca Masterson. Glad I caught you before you left for the evening," Rebecca said, her voice syrupy in a way that warned:danger.
