“You don’t look like Stella Keenan in that building,” Dom said. “Wig. Heavy makeup. Different clothes. You’re a fighter’s girlfriend. Siren will handle the makeover.”
Stella pulledinto the driveway of her parents’ house and sat in the driver’s seat thinking over the story she was preparing to tell them. She let herself in through the front door. The house smelled like onions and butter. Her mom was on the floor in front of the couch with her nephew Arlo.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”
Stella crouched and kissed the top of Arlo’s head. He smelled like baby shampoo and oatmeal. He held up a board book and babbled about it.
“I need to talk to Dad for a minute.”
“He’s in the kitchen.”
Shane was at the kitchen island breaking down a chicken with a boning knife. “Hi honey, what brings you over today?”
Stella sat on the stool at the island. “Dad. I need a favor.”
“All right.”
“I need you to cover the diner. Starting tomorrow. Probably a week. Maybe two.”
She gave him the rest before he could ask. Nell’s mother had called. They were organizing a search effort in her hometown. Stella was going to drive down to Northern California to help Mrs. Meadows coordinate.
“I told her mother I’d find her.”
That part was true. She held on to it.
“You’re driving down there alone?”
“Yeah.”
Shane was quiet for a long second. He didn’t argue. He didn’t push.
“Okay, I’ll open tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll text you the week’s schedule and the vendor calls I haven’t returned. Produce delivery’s Thursday morning.”
She picked up her purse from the stool beside her. The bear inside her was quiet now. Shane would run her diner for a week. It would be fine.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, leaning in to give him a hug. “This means a lot.”
Stella walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.
“Mom. I’m driving down to Eureka tomorrow to help form a search party for Nell. I’ll be gone a week. Maybe two. Dad’s covering the diner.”
Lily was quiet for a beat. She set her hand on Stella’s knee.
“Drive safely, sweetheart.”
“I will.”
Chapter
Sixteen
Hunter’sold Ram crew cab roared down the highway. Blaze gripped the steering wheel as logging trucks passed with a low diesel rumble. The windshield was wet at the edges from drizzle. The Cascades rose up around them, the dark forest a silhouette against the hazy white sky.
Stella was in the passenger seat in jeans and a blue flannel shirt with the cuffs rolled up. Her hair was in a loose braid down her back. He couldn’t help but glance at her every few minutes. The cab smelled like old coffee and gun oil. But underneath that was Stella’s maple syrup and brown sugar scent. Ryder was in the back with his earbuds in. He’d been quiet most of the drive.
