16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Elise
W ould it be asking too much of the universe to hope that I could shrink so small that I could slip between the cracks in this bench and disappear, leaving Dylan to thoughtfully ask Pete the rest of our questions? Then I could sneak off to speak to Clive without having to directly tell Pete no.
My stomach roiled as Pete’s stare bored into my skull. I wasn’t going to lie to him, and he knew it.
“I’m really sorry, but I can’t promise that.” My voice was so small, the wind might have swallowed it before it reached Pete’s ears. “My dad is every bit as important to me as Clive is to you, and if there’s even a chance that he has answers that could lead to finding out who killed my dad, then I’m going to talk to him.”
Had I really just said that?
Instead of looking at Pete, who was most likely furious, I watched for Dylan’s reaction. He gave me a subtle thumbs up, along with a wink. Whether it was thanks to the charged situation, my fear of Pete’s reaction, or Dylan’s flirtatious approval, a flash of heat crept up my neck and into my face.
“Huh. Elise, I’m disappointed in you. You’re usually much more considerate than that.” With a grunt, Pete rose.
My blush grew hotter. Was I being selfish, or was he failing to consider what it must feel like to be in my position?
“Wait, Coach. One more question,” Dylan said, standing as well.
Though his expression was stony, a rare look for him, Pete made no move to leave.
“What was Kelly’s relationship with your coach like?”
Pete snorted. “In a word, rocky. Kelly wasn’t one to take orders, which is exactly what Coach Carter expected. She questioned him at every turn, and he didn’t like it one bit, especially when it happened in public. I walked out and caught them in the middle of a shoutin’ match once, and Kelly tried to drag me into it. Downright awkward.”
“Why didn’t he just yank her scholarship and kick her off the team?” Dylan asked.
I listened, studying the bleachers rather than looking at Pete.
“He’d have loved to, but he couldn’t. Kelly’s grandfather was one of our school’s big sponsors. He knew if he sent her packin’, he’d be out of a job.”
A hand settled on my shoulder. “Listen, sweetie, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just worried, that’s all. A lot of people’ve already been hurt, and whether you’re lookin’ for peace by chasin’ somethin’ that might not even be there, or on the path of trackin’ a killer, you’re headed for more hurt and possibly danger. This can only end in heartbreak, and seein’ as how your dad’s gone, I feel responsible for you. You’re like a daughter to me. After your dad went missin’, Cheryl and I even reached out to your grandma and asked if you could come live with us.”
What? I finally met his green eyes.
“She said no, that you two needed each other, and she was probably right, but I want you to know that we’re here for you. Please be careful.”
I sat there staring, jaw dropped and silent. What would life have been like if I’d lived in this man’s home, especially considering that I’d have had to share a house with Sophie, the gremlin?
“Now Mr. Harper, I’ve been meanin’ to have a word with you. A little bird told me you’ve had trouble with your schoolin’ in the past. It’s only the first week, but how are you feelin’ about your classes?”
“I, well, uh…they’re okay, I guess.”
“Wow, that sounded confident,” Pete teased. “Which subject is givin’ you the most trouble?”
“Um,” Dylan looked hesitantly to me, as if his answer might make me angry. “It’s English,” he said, blowing out a breath. “The teacher is so hung up on poetry. We’ll be spending a whole month on it, and I just don’t get it. She’s obsessed. We have to read poetry, write poetry, even perform it for the class. I’m honestly wondering if I should just withdraw from the class while I still can and try again next semester to see if I can get a different professor.”
“Nonsense.” Pete’s hand made a loud thumping noise on Dylan’s back. “Elise here’s a whizz at poetry. She can help you.”
No, I absolutely would not. Dylan was already worming his way into investigating Dad’s death. No way was I going to spend extra time with him working on schoolwork.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m really not that great, and I don’t know when I’d have time, especially with all I’ve got going on coaching the Sea Lions. We’re in the middle of racing season, and things are super busy.”
“Are you kiddin’, it’s perfect. You both coach there, which means you have the same schedule, and you’re in all the same places. It’d be super easy for you to spend a little extra time helpin’ him after practice.”
“Really, I’m not that great. Doesn’t the school have an English lab or something like that you can go to with grad students? They would do a much better job helping him than I would.”
Pete folded his arms and gave me another hard stare. “Elysium Marie Sudbury, I’ve read your work. You’re a literary genius.”
Curse you, Dad. My writing that I shared with you was supposed to be private, not shared with your friends, no matter how proud you were.
“I am not a literary genius.”
“But you are good, and Dylan could use your help. Are you really gonna turn him away?”
Actually, I already had, and that was before he read my notebook. But Pete was giving me such an accusing look, like I’d sold my soul to the devil and was now one of his horned minions.
“Fine.” I grabbed my bag and slung it onto my shoulder. “Bring your stuff to practice tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Sounds good,” Dylan answered in a sheepish voice as I stomped loudly down the metallic steps.
No, it doesn’t. It sounds like purgatory.