19
An hour or so later, Bailey signaled it was time. As Dillon rose from the sofa, she asked her daughter, “You’ll be okay while I take our guest back?”
Elena told Dillon, “I learned the meaning ofrhetoricalearly on. Part of bringing up Mom.”
Dillon told her mother, “This young lady can be scary.”
“You have no idea.” Bailey kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Be good.”
“I assume this means I’m not welcome to come along for the ride?”
“Oh, I think we’ve had enough of your lip for one night. You know what to do if you need anything, correct?”
“Grab the speargun from the back of my closet. Load, aim, shoot.”
“Elena.”
“Go find Grandad.” Then she surprised them both. Elena rose from the couch, stood on tiptoes, gestured for Dillon to lean over, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please come again. Please.”
“I would like nothing better.”
She branded his cheek with a kiss, then released him and stepped back. “Is it true what Mom said, you’re living in the jail?”
Dillon followed Bailey toward the kitchen door. “I have a cell all my very own.”
“Welcome to my world.”
Bailey did not even turn around. “Elena!”
“Sorry. It just slipped out.” She blew Dillon a second kiss. “Tell Mom, for once I approve.”
Bailey did not speak until they were backing out of the drive. “I actually don’t know what to say.”
Dillon did not have that problem. “Your daughter is truly amazing.”
She did not respond until they were on the main road heading back toward town. Her voice was mildly fractured when she said, “I also don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”
Dillon saw the damp glistening on her cheeks and decided now was an excellent time to change the subject. “Can I ask a favor? There’s a house on the road leading to our valley road. A ton of Christmas ornaments in the front yard, all dark. And the windows—”
“The Inghams’ place. With all the candles.” Bailey took the next left. “Absolutely.”
They did not speak again until they were parked outside the home. Dillon saw four other vehicles sitting there, with more driving slowly past. If anything, there were more candles tonight. Dozens and dozens of glimmering flames, defying the dark and the storm. Bailey said exactly what Dillon was thinking. “I know it sounds crazy. But this gives me hope.”
He nodded. Silent. Thinking.
“Thad Ingham works for the fire service. He told me they wake up most mornings to find boxes of candles stacked on his doorstep and lining the entry to his garage. His kids think it’s the angels’ way of saying they’re doing something good.”
They remained there a long moment, then Bailey restarted her car, turned back toward town, and said, “So tell me about Olivia.”
* * *
Dillon looked at her. “Excuse me?”
“I have a dear friend who wants to talk with Olivia about something important. He needs to know what’s her state of mind.” Bailey met his gaze. “I’m not for one instant pretending there’s no personal interest in the matter.”
The direct and honest Bailey Long. The childhood friend all grown up and still holding on to the things he had valued most. Despite everything. “It seems to me there are two Olivias. The one who was put through an awful time in LA. And arrived here pretty close to crushed.” He pointed to the curb. “Pull over, will you? I don’t like how you’re driving with both eyes not on the road.”
“You’ve never been a mother.” Just the same, she turned her attention to the way ahead. “And the other Olivia?”
