Chapter 17 #2
“Movie?” he offered, already scrolling through options on her TV. “I vote something with no mystery, no crime, no murder.”
“Rom-com?” she asked hopefully.
He gave her a mock groan. “Fine, but only if there’s popcorn.”
Fifteen minutes later they were curled up together on the couch, a bowl of buttery popcorn between them, watching a predictably cheesy romantic comedy.
Halfway through, she laid her head on his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
She didn’t remember how the movie ended, only the steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his arm around her.
The next morning, sunlight slipped through the blinds and warmed her bare feet as she shuffled around the kitchen, tossing together some breakfast.
They loaded up her Subaru around mid-morning and hit the road, windows cracked to let in the fresh summer air. Dylan glanced over at him while she navigated the busy freeway and headed out of Portland. Abe’s sunglasses were hiding his eyes, but his hand was warm over hers on the center console.
For the first time in her life, Pride felt far away, something she couldn’t wait to be closer to.
This wasn’t just a drive back to a town she’d grown up in and left because there were too many memories she wanted to avoid. This was the place she had found him. Found something she never expected. Love. And it was the start of something she wasn’t ready to give up.
The sun glinted off the hood of her car as they cruised down the highway.
The trees were flying by in a blur of green and gold.
With Abe’s hand warm on hers, it was easy to forget the reason they had met in the first place.
Easy to let herself believe for just a little while that everything was simple.
She was a girl who had fallen for a man.
But of course, it wasn’t.
She adjusted the rearview mirror, more out of habit than necessity, and glanced sideways at him. “There’s something that keeps bothering me about the night Kara died,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d intended.
Abe looked over at her, his sunglasses still shielding his eyes. “What?”
“We’ve cleared Kevin from our list, basically. But I keep coming back to one thing that doesn’t sit well.”
He shifted in his seat, alert now. “Was it really Tony Carson behind the wheel?”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“If so, how did we not know?” he asked.
She shook her head slowly. “Did he do it on purpose? The marks on her were done before she died. If it was him, then…” She glanced over at him. “That means he killed her.”
Abe took a deep breath and leaned his head back on the headrest.
The silence stretched between them for a few miles, broken only by the hum of the tires on the asphalt and the occasional bird overhead.
“I haven’t found anything concrete yet,” she admitted, “tying Tony to Kara. A lot of your friends from back then lived in those townhomes. There isn’t one text message or phone call from his known numbers to hers.”
“Tony seems the most logical at this point. He had the most to gain from my career taking off. He and Kara used to be really close, before we started dating. So it seems reasonable.”
She gave a slow, deliberate nod. “He was just a few units over from Kevin’s place.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Abe said, but his voice had lost some of its certainty. “Without proof.”
“I know. Believe me, I’m looking everywhere for something,” Dylan said. “But the timing and location adds up. I did some digging before we left. According to one police report, Kara had been seen coming and going from that complex more than once.”
Abe ran a hand over his face. “He was dating a singer that he was managing. A woman whose career took a nose dive a few months later.”
“Elena Vale,” Dylan filled in for him. “She was supposed to be America’s next pop princess, and she was his very public girlfriend at the time of Kara’s death.
If it ever came out that he was having an affair with a college student who was dating his best friend, not to mention that she died the night they were together?
His whole world would’ve gone up in flames. ”
“I still can’t wrap my head around that,” Abe muttered, staring out the window. “He used to bring Kara coffee when he came over. He used to say that she reminded him of his little sister.”
Dylan arched a brow. “Do you call your sister at midnight for a hookup? The call logs of that mysterious number all show they talked more than you and she did.”
“Point taken.” He sighed.
She adjusted her grip on the wheel. “The part that drives me crazy is how clean the whole thing is. The car was Kara’s, the keys were in the ignition, and Kevin admits to drinking that night and blacking out.
He could have been an easy scapegoat. If Tony wanted to frame anyone, he was the easy target. Not you.” She hesitated.
Abe let out a long breath. “You really think Tony was the one behind the wheel?”
“I think he could have been,” she said carefully. “But I have no proof. No witnesses. No camera footage. Nothing that would hold up in court.”
He was quiet for a beat. “And if it was him? That means Kara lied to me that night. About everything. That Tony has been lying to me for years.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Or she didn’t. Maybe she didn’t even know who she wanted. Maybe she was confused, caught between two lives. You said she encouraged your music career, right? Maybe that was her trying to do the right thing?”
He gave her a sad half-smile as she turned off the main highway and started towards the winding road that would take them back to Pride. “You’re good at giving people the benefit of the doubt.”
“I try.” Her voice cracked a little. “But I’m also a realist and a PI.
I have seen the dark side of people. If Tony was the one behind the wheel, it explains a lot.
Why there were no charges against you, why the investigation dried up.
Why the reports went quiet. Why the PR machine around Kara’s death spun out so fast it made her family dizzy and angry.
He would’ve had the reach, the connections… to make the story dry up.”
Abe leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. “Jesus.”
They drove in silence for a while, both lost in their thoughts. The trees grew taller and denser as they neared the outskirts of Pride. The air smelled sweeter here, like cedar and possibility.
Finally, Dylan spoke again, softly. “I’ll keep digging. I’ll find out what really happened.”
Suddenly the car jerked forward with a loud bang as metal clashed on metal. Her head banged against the side of her door.
She heard screaming, felt her skin break open, cut by the shards of glass and debris that flew towards her hands and face. There was a rapid sensation of burning and a puff of smoke as the airbag exploded in her face.
She grunted when the steering wheel was shoved into her chest. Her left knee collided with the door and was smashed against the steering column.
The world tilted, twisted, turned, and finally, before any of the pain could set in, stilled.
She blinked a few times, confused.
“Dylan!” she heard Abe shouting over the ringing in her ears.
She turned to look towards him, but before she could say his name, the car was hit again. Once more the scenery outside spun. She could see the blue sky. Green grass and trees. Then rocks and ocean. She screamed again just before everything went dark.