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“What’s the story with your car?” he asked.
“Needs a new starter.”
Pops’s gray brows tugged together. “That’s expensive.”
“They said they’ll give me the best price possible, but they’re still waiting for a part.”
“Reschedule the doctor visit.”
Steph returned to the salad fixings. “Oh, no you don’t. I’ll borrow a car if we need to. No worries.” If there was one thing that put her grandpa in a bad mood, it was “some young doctor telling me what to do.”
She dished up the warmed chili as Pops continued to grumble. Once she had him fed and distracted by a baseball game on TV, she’d call Cal. Then later, she’d cajole her grandpa into walking around the block with her.
CAL CLOSED DOWN THE INSTAGRAM app after perusing his latest client request. Lately, it seemed he’d gotten more requests from wives, or husbands, to investigate their spouses. Sometimes for suspected affairs, other times for concealing financial information, and this current one was for an ongoing custody battle.
The details were depressing, but the facts didn’t lie. Steve Ross was claiming his wife wasn’t using child support money on the kids—but instead taking extravagant vacations while the kids sat home alone that previous summer.
Cal might have taken a slight detour and looked up Steph’s Instagram profile. No, he didn’t follow her, but her profile was public, so he could see what she’d posted. Most of it was pictures of cuts and colors she’d done for work—“before and after” photos—where she’d tagged the customer. He wondered why the salon didn’t have its own account, but that wasn’t what he was really interested in. He was curious as to why Steph was still single.
She’d been tagged in group photos, and he examined those. Her arms around men, women, laughing, doing all sorts of activities, but there didn’t seem to be any consistency with a single man.
Of all the girls in high school, he thought she’d be the one with a husband and kids and a nice home by the time their ten-year reunion rolled around. She was always surrounded by people—guys and girls. It was why he’d taken forever to talk to her … well, she technically talked to him first, but he’d noticed her for months. The fact that she talked to him like he was a normal teen, and not the troublemaker of the town, had made him feel … noticed—in the right way.
Cal pocketed his phone and strode to the window of his home office in his town house. He lived about an hour’s drive from Everly Falls. Kind of ironic, he knew. But the town of Grandin had become a refuge after he’d taken off that night from his dad’s fake promises. Cal found his way to an all-night café, and the owner—Donna—had taken him under her wing. Literally.
Fed him, asked him questions, told him that he could sleep on the cot in the back room if he was looking for a place to stay.
He stayed. Donna gave him a job washing dishes. Then she gave him an old laptop—told him to finish up his schooling online. It was a strange few months, working during the day, taking online classes at night. Not spending time with kids his own age. The teens who came into the café seemed curious about him, but Donna just told them he was her nephew.
Cal became a professional people-watcher as he took on more jobs at the café. Cashier, busboy, occasional cook. He knew the exact times the regulars would shuffle in. He became intrigued with people’s habits, quirks, and emotions. Like that one time when Mrs. Johnson had bloodshot eyes, and her hands trembled when she drank her coffee. And Mr. Parker, who always left four quarters as a tip.
The town was growing, though, and his newer town house was a testament to that. He adjusted the blinds to let in more of the orange and pink sunset that splashed the sky. Without checking the time, he knew it was after six. After when Steph said she’d call. It wasn’t like he was counting the minutes, but the way she acted when he told her his profession had started a knot of worry in his gut. Women like Steph—vivacious, friendly to everyone, easygoing, beautiful, trusting of others—could become easy targets.
When his phone rang, he pulled it out, hoping it was her at last.
“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone mellow.
“Hi, Cal,” she said. “I’m glad you’re not screening me anymore.”
He chuckled at that. “I’d rather screen than have a three-second conversation to tell someone I need to call them back.”
“Oh, I understand. Especially since you probably have a lot of top-secret stuff you’re doing.”
“Not too top secret. Well, except for whichever current client I’m working for. They’re not splashing their information all over the internet.” He didn’t want to get off topic. He had some questions for her. “What’s going on, Bee? Why did you ask for a consultation?”
“It’s probably nothing,” she rushed to say, although he heard the tension in her voice. “Do you remember Brandy Kane?”
Cal blinked. The name sounded familiar … “Oh yeah, your blonde friend who was a freak at math?”
She laughed, and he found himself smiling, easing up just a little. If this was about Brandy, and not Steph, then he could relax more.
“Her mother is dating again—she’s been widowed for a while.” Steph paused. “Anyway, I cut Lydia Kane’s hair, and she told me about meeting a man on a dating app.”
Cal moved to his desk and opened up a document on his laptop. “I’m putting you on speaker.” He began to type notes as Steph filled him in on how she and Brandy stalked the date to a Mexican restaurant in another town. Brandy had the man’s license plates ran, but nothing came up.
“Wait, you sat in the same restaurant and didn’t get caught by Brandy’s own mother?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think it would work,” Steph said. “Brandy brought these scarves.”
