Natalie shrugged a shoulder. “That doesn’t mean she isn’t benefitting financially.”
“If she is, she’s hiding it. She’s driving an ancient car, she doesn’t carry a designer bag. You’d hate her shoes.”
Nat pursed her lips. “You really can judge a woman by her shoes.”
Jake wasn’t sure if that was sarcasm so he let it go. “What I’m saying is, I’m going to work the Rachael angle, obviously. But I’m working it without judgment. You’ve got to trust me on this. There’s more to Rachael Deal than meets the eye. Smart money’s on coercion. Daddy Deal scares the shit out of everyone, his daughter most of all.”
Natalie tapped her pinkie against her lips before lifting her chin out of her hand. “Just be careful with this one, Jake. I think she has you charmed with the singing. And keep in mind the optics, especially after Kathleen.”
Off the hook, but only for now, Jake thought. “I will, Boss. You know I’m a good judge of character.”
Natalie smiled but her eyes narrowed. “So am I. And that’s why this worries me.”
They spent a few more minutes going over procedures—total BS in Jake’s opinion, but the i’s and t’s demanded it, and they reviewed the objectives. The office would dig deeper on Linda Deal and look into Deputy Lewis Broggart Junior. Jake would continue blending in and buddying up to Hank, whose background check proved he was the small-time thug criminal Jake had expected him to be. He’d also continue pursuing Rachael, gaining her trust until she proved useful. Or not.
“Oh, and if you could find any bodies lying around, that would be useful, too,” Natalie told him just before signing off.
Jake barely had a moment to breathe before his cell phone buzzed. He hoped it was Rachael asking if he wanted to go back to Bill’s tonight. Or go for a walk. Or watch paint dry, anything. Any excuse to see her again. Instead, it was Hank inviting him to Muddy’s for a game of pool that night. Jake replied yes, already dreading the hangover from the crap beer, but business was business and he was forming a plan that could either shake Daddy Deal’s confidence in Hank, and make him trust Jake more—with the not-insubstantial side benefit of protecting Rachael—or it would send the whole mission crashing down.
So taking Rachael back to Bill’s would have to wait for now, as much as he hated the idea. If his plan worked, next week would be better for her, anyway. Besides, Jake didn’t want to push Rachael if she wasn’t ready.Slow and steady wins the race with that one, as much as I’d like to show her how amazing I can make her feel.
Truth was, as much as he ached to hold her again, he didn’t think he was ready to meet up with Rachael again, either. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his shit together after seeing her mom’s police photo, and knowing that Rachael received the same treatment as little as a month ago. And because Jake suspected a connection between Tom Smiley and Linda Deal.
The million-dollar question was,Does Rachael know the truth about either one, a secret she’s hiding to protect her father?
The two-million-dollar question:Do I even care if she is?
Fourteen
Rachael could not mistake the motorcycle in Muddy’s parking lot for anyone’s but Jake’s.
I’m an idiot for dreaming, Rachael thought halfway through making a U-turn and heading home. Of course Jake was too busy getting drunk with Rachael’s ex to take her anywhere. Hank was probably teaching Jake the finer points of punching a woman when she does something offensive, like breathing.
Rachael kept thinking dark thoughts the entire time she changed out of her little black dress and into her sweats and tee. She waited for the cicadas to sing and the blackbirds to fly in—they were running late and had left her alone all Saturday. She expected to fight them the rest of the weekend, all the way to the dreaded Sunday Scaries when she routinely drew the curtains around six o’clock Sunday night and dove into oldFriendsepisodes with a pint of ice cream until she fell asleep on the couch dreading Monday morning.
None of that happened. Instead of the old memory blackbirds, Rachael kept thinking about her night in the spotlight at The Hideaway. The anticipation she’d felt waiting for her turn, the excitement as she climbed the stairs, even though she was terrified. The euphoria of singing, of feeling her voice swell and ebb, controlling the notes and pitch until she shaped it into something beautiful.
God, then the applause. All for her. She could have died happy that moment with no regrets.
Except she would have missed seeing Jake’s face watching in awe as he listened to her sing. Missed the way he touched her so gently, protectively. And that kiss.
No. Stop thinking about that. Just a dream.
Rachael looked at her couch, beckoning for her to start theFriendsmarathon early, sink down, give in, go numb.
She grabbed her backpack instead and carried it to the bedroom. She pulled out the notebook with her songs, but instead of hiding it in the comforter, she opened it up to a blank page and grabbed a pen off her nightstand. Rachael didn’t even bother sitting down, she laid the notebook across the wide board topping the foot of her bed and started writing down the song taking shape in her head. She poured out her feelings—the happiness, the euphoria. Everything that wasn’t a blackbird hit the page in a burst of joy. And when she was done and read over what she’d created, she felt calm and at peace. Every other song she’d written was dark, full of sadness and anger directed at her father. But this song sounded bright and hopeful and had nothing to do with him.
Rachael took in a deep, satisfying breath and let it out. Maybe Jake was no different from the rest or maybe he was. It didn’t matter—he’d set something free in Rachael, and for that she was grateful. Who cared if he was at Muddy’s tonight? It didn’t necessarily mean he was there with Hank. She’d see Jake on Monday, give him the benefit of the doubt until he proved otherwise.He’s given me the same consideration and respect, if you think about it.The least I can do is mirror it back.
She picked up her pen and started another song, no cicadas or blackbirds in sight.
* * *
Monday morning, Rachael felt better than she had in recent memory. She stopped by the doughnut shop and picked up a treat for herself and Elena, then ordered one more doughnut for Jake, just in case. When she came in to work, Elena was just getting ready for the day. Rachael plopped the doughnut on her desk, and exaggerated tiptoeing away while Elena actually laughed. When Rachael got to her office, she texted Elena, asking her to ping her phone when Jake got to work. She hummed as she lit all her candles and thoroughly enjoyed her Boston cream doughnut.
Elena texted Rachael a few minutes later. She grabbed her phone to text back, when she heard the yelling on the floor. Hank’s voice was unmistakable, and the other, was that…? She glanced at Elena’s message and her eyes went wide and her heart skipped.
Get down here NOW
