Pulling out the seat beside her, I sink down into it and inhale the muffin.
“You’re going to make me gain weight,” I tell her, wiping my hands on a napkin.
“I hear getting lost on long runs is an excellent antidote to calories consumed.” Addison smiles and drinks from a glass of water that was on the counter.
“That was my water,” I tell her, even though it wasn’t.
“I don’t care about your germs.” She takes another sip just to make her point. “And it was mine. Quit stalling and tell me how your dad bailed you out of jail.”
Alarm widens my eyes. “How did you know—”
Addison’s mouth drops open in astonishment. “I was right?”
I shake my head. “Not totally. I was questioned at a police station when I was eighteen. So were Lennon and Finn, but none of us were booked. Technically, it was my dad’s reputation that kept us out of jail. That and a lack of evidence.” I think back to that night. “And our family lawyer.”
“What?” Addison’s voice is an assertive whisper. “Why were you questioned?”
“Lennon’s stepdad died and they thought something about it was odd. Her mom overheard us talking and reported it to the police.”
“Her mother?” Addison hisses, eyes even wider now.
“I know.” I nod in agreement. “But she’s dead now too.”
“Oh.” Addison’s face falls. “That’s sad that Lennon lost both her parents.”
My head shakes, thinking of Lennon’s childhood. “You wouldn’t think that way if you knew them. They weren’t good people.”
Addison shifts in her seat so she’s facing me. “Suddenly I’m really feeling that sheltered life I told you about.” Her face darkens. “Other than, well, you know.”
Without thinking, I reach for her hand and give it a light squeeze. “We all have our own troubles, Addison.”
She seems to recover, because the light comes back into her eyes. “I seriously cannot believe you’ve been questioned at a police station. And for a suspicious death, too.” Her eyes narrow as her words hit home. “You’re not a murderer, are you?”
I laugh. “We were let go for a reason. We were innocent. Even my dad can’t make something like murder go away. Nor would he, I don’t think.” Even as I say the words, I’m not sure of their truth. My dad made a lot of my sister’s shenanigans disappear, but that was petty stuff. Nothing like taking a life.
“I believe you,” she says, then yawns. “Sorry, I was up early making the batter for the muffins. My grandma cooked the first batch so I could get in my run.”
“No worries,” I assure her. “I’m tired, too. Maybe we should take a nap and then later would you want to—”
A loud ring fills the air.
“Oops, sorry.” Addison takes her hand from mine and digs into her pocket. “I was listening to music before I ran into you earlier and I must’ve turned up the ringer along with the volume.”
She frowns at the phone, and I can see it’s a number she doesn’t have stored, but it’s an area code we both know.
Chicago.
Why does the sight of it shoot nerves straight into my chest? I know the answer to that, and it’s incredibly selfish.
It can’t be what I’m thinking anyhow, because surely she’d have Warren’s family’s number stored in her phone?
My thunderous thoughts have caused me to miss the first few sentences of her conversation, but now I’m tuned in.
Addison’s expression, which was so happy and carefree before the call, is not only sad, it’s anguished.
“I don’t need the venue anymore. I—”
She pauses, and the person on the other end speaks.
