I sighed. “I need to. You don’t leave a note unless you want someone to read it.”
“Do you think there might be clues? About the house?”
I shifted in my seat. “I don’t want to let myself consider that there could be something in this for me. I feel guilty enough that was the only reason I was looking for her in the first place. She needed someone. Like what if I had found her two weeks ago?”
The words burned on exit like vomit.
“Move!” Breeze shouted at a red Swift in front of us, her usual calm cracked wide open. “You can’t think like that. Because you can’t know. There’s probably nothing anyone could’ve done once she made that decision.”
“Maybe,” I murmured, my eyes misting. “But what if she’d had the right help?”
My thoughts turned to Josh. The guilt seemed to link together like a chain. These people needed help.
Breeze pinned me with a hard look as she pulled into the open garage around the back of Steamy Sips. “You're right," she sighed, pulling the key out of the ignition. "I can see how having support could have eased things for her. I know it did for me when my parents passed. But that’s way beyond your pay grade. And I mean that with love. There's nothing you could have done.”
I bit my bottom lip as my eyes studied the envelope, but I couldn't shift the guilt. I needed to do more.
Bill was leaning against the locked entrance of Steamy Sips, his brows knitted.
“Bill,” Breeze said gently, dipping her head as she moved to unlock the door.
“That’s right, it’s me, Bill. Still alive!” he chuckled. Then frowned at the door. “Doors closed.”
“We’re not open on Sundays,” she reminded him with a smile, holding the door open for us both.
“No, always open. I know. Always open here, yup. You know me!”
She sighed. “It was my parents who kept it open seven days," she reminded him. "It’s not a problem though, Bill. Sit down, and I’ll bring something over to you soon.”
“Coffee and some food,” he said as he sat down, placing his empty satchel and wallet beside him.
I didn’t know how Breeze stayed so calm all the time. She truly was cool as a breeze. Jared would have approved. If I were in her position, I’d be feeling the stress of a thousand bugs crawling over me while I worried that this man would neverleave. I'd likely resign myself to becoming his full-time support worker with no hope of escape.
And people accuse me of catastrophic thinking.
I couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated with Bill. It had been an emotional few days, and I needed all my headspace free to deal with Olivia’s letter.
“He’s been doing this off and on for a year,” Breeze said, catching my questioning eyes as I fetched milk from the fridge. “Guess he forgets.”
“Ever thought about saying no?” I asked, leaning my hip against the counter.
She paused, eyes flicking towards the ceiling. “Honestly? I’m worried about what might happen if I throw off his routine. It must be confusing for him. And it’s not a big hassle. Even though Taco might start to worry that she’s on a forced hunger strike.”
“I’ll sort Taco,” I said, flicking my eyes towards Bill. He was harmless, but I didn’t like the idea of Breeze having to deal with him alone if he didn’t leave. She smiled her appreciation.
When I got back downstairs, Bill was sipping a cappuccino, looking out the window. I leaned on Breeze’s side of the counter and pulled the envelope out of my back jeans pocket.
No time like the present.
“I know you!” Bill blurted suddenly, making me jolt so hard I thought my skeleton had exited my body.
“Yeah, Bill, we met the other day with Dave. Nice to see you again,” I said, trying to soften my face into something vaguely friendly.
“No. No,” he said, shaking his head, frowning hard. He looked angry, and the blue of his eyes seemed to shift in tone. “No. I know you.”
“This is Riley,” Breeze said quickly, setting a peanut butter sandwich on the table. “She works here, that’s why you know her.” She rolled her eyes as she passed me.
“New sandwich on the menu?” I whispered.
