“Prosecco or Moscato,” she breathes out. “Either will do.”
A moment later, a small dish of individually packed creamers slides in front of her, along with sugar packets. “Cora Billings, we’re fresh out of mimosas.”
“Bloody Mary?” she asks hopefully, and the lightheartedness of it is entertaining.
Mickey crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head.
“Fucking small towns,” she mumbles under her breath, and a part of me can absolutely agree. “I hope you’re not planning to stay in this one too long. The brunch beverage selection is bullshit.”
“Cora, are you drunk?”
She holds her hand up in front of her mouth, opening her eyes wide. “Drunk brunch is the only way to brunch.”
I turn to her and say, “What was your name again?” I’m almost positive Mickey said her last name is Billings.The “missing” cop’s wife.
As if on cue, she hiccups, then smiles at me. “I think it can be whatever you’d like for it to be, handsome.”
Jesus Christ.
“Do you want me to call Stan?” Mickey asks.
“Stan will not be coming to the phone right now. Thank goddesses.” She shifts closer to me. Yellow splotches peek outfrom beneath her right eye, like a bruise is finishing healing. “Plus, my new friend was just about to tell me his name, weren’t you?”
I shift on my stool and flash her a smile. “Julian Colton,” I tell her.
She pats my forearm. I can imagine there’s more to this woman’s story. The fading bruises and mid-day inebriation could all have innocent origins, but I know now that the body I erased, the reason Birdie and Lu Crowne brought me here, was not just a cop, but also this woman’s husband.
“Well, Julian Colton, I’m Cora Billings. Now tell me, what brings you to our small town?”
Chapter Ten
Wyn
“One of these days,I’m going to convince my big sister to join me on an episode ofThe Distilled Truth.”Stevie’s voice echoes loudly over my speaker. I smile, knowing my answer to her question: Not a chance.
I shift my weight back and forth in front of the notes projected on the front wall. I need to make sure I didn’t miss anything on these starting equations—my graduate students will be all over me if I do. Taking a step back, I lean on my desk as I suck down what’s left of my coffee. I used to always be eager to get here early, tackle my own research before lesson plans when the campus was still quiet, but I can’t focus.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like dealing with eager students in organics. I want it to feel the same as before. I want theadrenaline to kick in. I want to feel that rush of admiration students had when they realized the work they were capable of making happen. That excitement when a theory can be experimented and proven like the curriculum plans. Grants and published articles used to have my pulse racing in the best way, but now...
I huff out a breath, frustrated. Feeling like this isn’t part of the plan. This should be the easy and natural part of returning to Rumor. Everything in this place is the same asbefore. Everything except me.
Stevie’s voice shoves my internal spiral away.“The needle isn’t moving on any of the missing persons cases in my neck of the woods, either. I walk through the Rumor County sheriff’s station and see another person listed, and let’s not get me started on the number of sexual assault complaints that do not line up with arrests or warrants in this part of the county.”My sister has never been one to let dust settle. The moment something doesn’t work in her favor, she’s ready to dive in with tweezers and figure out what went wrong.
Stevie’s managed to merge two things that would make people around here, and just about everywhere in this country, listen to what she had to say—crime and whiskey. And while it started as a passion project, a way to siphon questions that she wanted answered, and a way to deal with losing me, she’s built a helluva following for herself. A business that could keep her from having to do shifts at the bar if she wanted. But she was in her element there, a focal point, and of all the things that my sister was good at, being the center of attention is the winner. She’s like our mom in that way.
She doesn’t know I listened, or that I had made it a big deal in the small place I called home for a while. But she’ll probably never really understand what hearing her weekly meant to me,especially during a time when I thought I’d never hear or see anyone from my family again.
I pluck an earbud out of my ear and glance toward the door. It’s early, and the weekend, but now that the sun is up, there’s finally some movement around campus. I slept like garbage. I tried to numb my emotions the moment my body hit the mattress, but Julian made a home at the forefront of my mind. I wanted to march over to The Rackhouse, knock on his bedroom door, and finish what we started. He said we’re nowhere near done, and I agree. I want the answers that’ll make me feel like someone knows me. The way I felt when I saw him again, how it felt to have him near me... I shouldn’t, but I want more.
And since I’m not interested in lying to myself, despite everyone else, I know that if I went there, I wouldn’t have left without feeling his hands on me again. So I came here instead. I tossed and turned for too long and watched the shadows of my ceiling fan move like a metronome, until I did what I always have done—found distraction in my work.
“Thought I might find you here,” a calming voice says from the doorway to my office. I know the tone before I turn to see Reed leaning against the frame. One hand slung into the pocket of his navy chinos as he eats an apple. The smile he flashes at me used to feel flirtatious but now seems more concerned than anything else. “How long have you been working?”
I glance at the clock on my laptop—8:30 a.m. So, for more than three hours now, but I decide on saying, “A little while.”
“I tried to get into my office, but I left my key card somewhere and can’t seem to find it,” he says, looking behind him at the empty hall from where he just came. “If you’re not in the middle of something, want to duck out and have some breakfast with me?”
I exhale, more loudly than I intended. The last thing I want to do is unload any of my feelings on Reed, but maybe some food and a break wouldn’t be the worst idea.
