Jack’s shoulders slumped, and the anger slipped, just for a moment. Beneath it, she saw the hurt.
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “He set me up to fail, and I walked right into it.”
Chapter Nineteen
After they’d pieced together the mess Worthington had created, Jack grabbed his keys from the table and told Cora they needed to go. She didn’t argue. Instead, she snatched up her bag and followed him to the truck. He barely noticed the food they’d left behind, still spread out on the table next to the dock. He couldn’t eat anyway, not with his stomach twisted into knots. The squirrels would have a feast tonight.
The drive was quiet, the hum of the truck’s engine the only sound as they wound along the back roads. His mind was spinning, running through every detail of what they’d uncovered, replaying conversations with Mitch, trying to figure out when Worthington had started pulling the strings.
Cora hadn’t said a word, but he felt her eyes on him. Not judging or impatient, just waiting. Giving him space.
Finally, she broke the silence. “So are we going to talk about what happened back there?”
He glanced at her, catching the furrow in her brow and the way she bit her bottom lip. Cute. Totally inconvenient, given the circumstances, but cute. He kept his voice even, sidestepping the inevitable conversation. “You got anywhere you need to be?”
She shook her head, her ponytail swaying slightly. “Nope, I’m all yours.” A second passed before her eyes widened, and she flushed. “I mean, I’m free. You know what I mean.”
Despite the chaos swirling around in his head, he couldn’t help but smile. “I know what you mean.” He let the words hang in the air for a second before he added, “There’s somewhere we need to go.”
He turned off the main road, gravel giving way to the familiar crunch of oyster shells beneath the tires. Cora’s eyebrows shot up as she took in the row of weathered houses, their peeling paint and sagging porches bathed in the low glow of the setting sun.
“Um, Jack?” she asked, her voice edged with uncertainty. “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me? Because I have to say, that’s not how I pictured this day going.”
“Relax. We’re going to see my grandfather.”
Her shoulders eased, but she gave him a sideways look. “Just saying, if you’re planning to murder me, the least you can do is drop me off at the bakery first. Let me go out with a cruller in my hand.”
A laugh rumbled out of him, surprising even himself. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He shifted in his seat, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rested on the center console, the weight of the day pressing down again.
And then, without a word, Cora slid her hand into his. Her fingers were warm and soft.
For a second, he froze. His first instinct was to pull away, but something about the way her fingers fit against his made him stop. He gave her hand a quick squeeze. She didn’t say a word, but somehow the weight lifted a little.
When they pulled up to the house, his grandfather was on the front porch, tinkering with the guts of a disassembled kitchen faucet. He glanced up as they approached, surprise flickering across his weathered face.
“Jackie? What brings you by? And who’s this lovely young lady?”
Jack started to introduce Cora, but Lincoln’s eyes narrowed as recognition set in.
“Well, I’ll be darned. You must be Lolly’s granddaughter. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”
Cora blinked, caught off guard for a second, but quickly recovered, sticking out her hand. “Yes, I’m Cora. How did you know my grandmother?”
Lincoln’s face softened as he wrapped her hand in his. “How did I know her? Honey, she was the ...” He paused, his smile fading just a little. “That was a long time ago.”
Jack watched as Cora processed his words, surprise and curiosity flashing across her face before she pulled herself together with a wry smile.
“Well, it seems like everyone in this town was under Lolly’s spell.”
Lincoln stared at her for a moment before letting out a rough laugh. “Lord, girl. You sound just like her. Got her fire too, I’ll bet.”
Cora ducked her head, cheeks flushing pink. “I don’t know about that. Lolly was...well, she was something else. Vivacious, beautiful. I’ve always felt like a pale imitation.”
“No,” Gramps and Jack said in unison. They exchanged a glance, heat crawling up Jack’s neck as his grandfather studied him for a moment longer than necessary.
Jack cleared his throat, steering the conversation back on track. “Look, Gramps, we need you to tell us what happened between you and Lolly. All of it.”
Gramps’s expression darkened, his hands returning to the faucet, fiddling with a loose bolt. “That’s ancient history, Jackie. Best left in the past where it belongs.”
