Page 95 of Pretty Nightmare

“She didn’t. She died in a car accident a few months ago . And then the place just kinda… fell apart. It closed down a few weeks after I came back here with you guys.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah. I liked her. She was a pretty great woman.”

“It’s kinda weird though.”

“Which part?”

“You started talking about her in the present tense. Like she was still alive.”

I sigh. And it’s a long, tired sigh. “Yeah. I miss her.”

Indie leans in to me. “Sorry, Donovan. Oh. But hey! I know a secret. Do you want to do something sneaky with me?”

“Sneaky?”

“When Adam came home this morning from church, I caught him hiding something in his office. I wasn’t gonna get you involved, but fuck it. You look like you need a little pick-me-up. And you’re the only partner in crime I have left these days.”

I side-eye her. “We’re not partners in crime.”

“We are now. If Nathan was here, I’d make him come on this little adventure. But he’s not. So you’re all I’ve got left.” She stands up, takes my hand and half-heartedly tugs on it. “Come on. Let’s go snoop.”

She leads me downstairs and then drops my hand once we’re inside Adam’s office. “It’s in there.” She points to the bottom drawer of an antique wooden filing cabinet. “It’s got a key lock.”

“I don’t have the key.”

“That thing is like a hundred years old. How hard can it be to pick?”

“I’m not picking Adam’s lock, Indie. If it’s important, he’ll show us.”

“Oh, really?” She narrows her eyes at me. “I would call all those hundreds of tapes of my therapy with you important, and you never let me listen to them. Even when I asked.”

“That was different. You were a child.”

“Well, I’m not a child anymore. And I want to know what’s in there.”

She goes for the drawer, but I hook my arm around her waist and pull her back. “No. We’re not doing this.”

She tilts her head up to me, smiles. “We are doing this. I’m tired of secrets. And so are you. That’s why you’ve spent the last four years trying to tease them out of your brain.”

“My brain isn’t keeping secrets.”

“No?” She taps my head. “And anyway. I’m bored.” She leans up and kisses me. “So if we’re not going to be partners in crime, then we’re gonna be partners some other way.”

I picture a whole night of Indie in this mood. I’m very familiar with it. And when she was a child it would manifest in various trouble-making ways. But as an adult, it’s morphed into flirting.

“I can read your mind, Donovan Couture.”

“I wish. Then you could tell me one way or the other if I’m insane.”

“What?” Her head juts back in surprise. “You’re the sanest person I know.”

“Fine. Break into the drawer.”

“Yay!” She claps, cracks her knuckles. “OK. Just give me one second.” Then she goes over to Adam’s desk, finds a paperclip in the top drawer, and goes back over to the drawer and bends down.

“Paperclip?”