Keller’s voice drops, like he’s making a decision. “You were right. The jack on the car Eli Bailey was working on wasn't faulty. It was disengaged. Manually.”
The words slam into me. My grip on the coffee mug tightens until the ceramic squeaks. Heat floods my chest, followed by a rush of cold that makes it hard to breathe. It’s not new information — I’ve suspected it for years — but hearing it confirmed carves the suspicion into fact. Into loss.
Keller meets my eyes. “You ready to finish what your dad started?”
I swallow, steady my breath, and nod once.
“More than ready.”
COLE
“…and the first time I saw him, I literally forgot how to breathe. Like, my lungs just quit,” Caspian says earnestly. “I thought, okay, this is it. I’m going to die in a restaurant booth, but at least I’ll die knowing I just saw the most beautiful man in the world.”
“It’s not a bad way to go,” I say, smiling at his smitten face.
Caspian stopped by just to talk about Antonio. He waited in the living room while I put Noah to bed, then launched into how he panicked with his order.
“I kept ordering all kinds of random things, because I didn’t want to leave. Garlic knots, three different coffees, cheesecake, risotto… His parents spied on me through the curtain, whispering in worried voices. At one point, Antonio asked if there was someone he could call, like a guardian or something. Oh God,” Caspian groans, putting his head in his hands.
“That is both the funniest and saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” I say sincerely. “What was the sugar daddy comment about?”
Caspian blushes. “Last week I went back. I tried to explain I’m not a glutton or someone who needs a guardian… but then he looked at me and I accidentally ordered two lasagnas and a cappuccino. And tipped him two hundred percent.”
Listening to him makes me think of the one time Xaden and I tried to have a real date in an actual restaurant. We’d both dressed up like we were meeting the Queen, then spent the entire meal pretending we were very sophisticated adults who totally knew things about wine. The waiter kept calling us “sir” in this booming, over-the-top voice, which only made it harder not to laugh. We made it through dinner without breaking — until dessert, when Xaden accidentally set his napkin on fire with the candle.
We called each other “sir” for the rest of the night and ended up kissing for half an hour on my parents’ porch while saying things like, “Sir, allow me to kiss you,” and “Sir, I insist.”
I sigh. All that feels like a lifetime ago, yet I can picture us doing something like that again. Only this time we’d actually be adults.
After Caspian’s left, I spend fifteen minutes rummaging for a notebook and a pen. The job I’m about to do feels like it demandsreal paper, not a phone screen.
The notebook I find has a balloon on the cover, but it’ll have to do. The pen’s barely working, but at least it’s not one of Noah’s crayons.
I sit down with a cup of tea and stare at the blank page. I kind of feel like a Baywood version of Sherlock Holmes. I picture myself in a deerstalker and trench coat, striding briskly down Main Street, intimidating suspects into confessing with my sharp intellect and top-notch interrogative techniques.
I notice I’ve doodled a lopsided deerstalker on the page. That’ll be helpful to Xaden, I’m sure.
Eventually, I write one word in the center:WILLARD.
Because somehow all the odd little details lead to him. Next, I draw lines out like a spiderweb and start adding what I think I know.
DAD:Secretive talks with Willard. Weird behavior. Mom said: You have to come clean.
JJ & RONNIE:Xaden’s so-called friends. Mean. Obnoxious. Smell bad. Saw them talking with Willard in South Ridge. Why?
ELI:Died in an “accident involving a motor vehicle.” Case closed. No real investigation.
I pause and chew the back of my pen.
XADEN:What is he doing???
In the corner, I write in smaller letters:
Could he end up in jail again? God, I hope not.
I couldn’t be his boyfriend then.
Not that I have any intention to be his boyfriend in any case.
