Chapter Twenty
Thursday morning dawned bright and deceptively cheerful. I winced against the band of pressure behind my eyes. I'd slept in fits and starts. My eyes were gritty. None of that mattered.
Mia was at home getting ready for school. Despite the swirling rumors and Camille's advice, she was desperate to go, and I didn't have the heart to keep her home if a routine was what she wanted.
Maybe it was what she needed. It seemed like a better option than leaving her home, miserable in her room all day.
I took Apollo for his morning walk. I was on a mission, walking fast. Apollo trotted beside me, eager and alert. His leash pulled taut as we crossed the grass, headed for the community playground.
It was 7:30 a.m. School didn't start until 8:30 a.m. Alexis often brought Falcon to the playground before the bus arrived to take him to a private elementary school that specialized in students with special needs.
This was my chance to get her alone. Possibly my only chance. I'd rehearsed a dozen openings on the walk over.
The playground sat at the far end of the community park, a rectangle of sand bordered by manicured grass and mature oak trees. Only one swing was occupied.
Alexis stood behind it, pushing Falcon in slow even arcs with onehand, checking something on her phone in the other. She wore ripped black jeans, scuffed Doc Martens, and a faded Metallica T-shirt under a leather jacket.
"Hey, Alexis," I called.
She glanced up, instantly wary. Her hazel eyes were outlined with black eyeliner in a cat-eye shape. There was something brittle in the way she held herself, shoulders tensed like she was bracing for a hit that might come from any direction.
"Mind if we join you?"
She rolled her eyes. "I don't own the park. It's a free country. For now, anyway."
She slipped her phone into her pocket, but not before I saw the familiar pink emblem on the screen. The LakeshoreTea account.
My gut tightened. I stepped closer. "Hi, Falcon."
Falcon's legs pumped with perfect rhythm. The Paw Patrol sweatshirt he wore clung to his narrow frame. His dirty blond curls fell into his brown eyes, the same color as Brooke's. He leaned back into the swing, face expressionless as his gaze slid past me and landed on Apollo.
"Dog," he said, voice monotone.
"This is Apollo," I said. "Remember him? He loves playing fetch."
He didn't respond, but his focus sharpened. The swing slowed as Falcon's feet dragged through the sand.
"Want to throw the ball for him?" I reached into my pocket and pulled out a tennis ball.
Falcon nodded.
"Gently," Alexis said. Her voice softened when she spoke to him. "Remember what we talked about. No hitting, no kicking."
"No hitting. No kicking." He slid off the swing and came toward us. His steps were careful and measured.
I unclipped Apollo's leash. "Go on. Let's see that throw."
Falcon took the ball from my hand. He lobbed it toward the stand of oak trees at the edge of the park. Apollo bounded after it, tail wagging, crashing through last year's leaves.
"That should keep him busy for a few minutes," I said.
Alexis watched Falcon jog after Apollo. She stepped away from the swing, putting a few extra feet between us, and dragged one sleeve over her nose. A fresh bruise peeked out of the sleeve of her jacket. "What do you want?"
Fresh anger flared through me at the sight of the bruise. I had to look away for a second and remember why I was here, remember Leah's handwriting in her diary. The scissors.
"Just to talk," I said. "If that's okay."
"It's not." Alexis glared at me. She was solidly built, broad-shouldered and heavy-set, her face dusted with acne she tried to hide under foundation. Her expressive brown eyes shifted between guarded and defiant.
