Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
S hit. Okay, yeah, she’d have to come clean.
“Abe,” she started, but then his phone rang and he held up a finger as he pulled his cell from his back pocket. He sighed as he looked down at the name.
“Hey, Tony,” She listened to his one-sided conversation. “No, yeah, okay, sure.” Abe sighed. “Four weeks.” He rolled his shoulders and walked over to the window. “No.” There was a long pause. “No.” He glanced over his shoulder and said no again before he hung up.
“Problems?” she asked, hoping the interruption would keep her from having to confess to breaking in.
“No,” he said again. “Did you break in?”
She swallowed and then nodded.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I was working.” She moved over and sat down, taking a sip of her soda. “Trying to find out more about Kara’s death.”
He sat across from her, soaking in what she had just admitted. He had to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t just some bystander who didn’t know who he was like she’d pretended. She wasn’t just a girl that he could have a summer fling with. She had lied to him.
“Kara’s brother has always believed I had something more to do with that night.” He frowned, avoiding her eyes. “He knows I didn’t.” He shook his head. “We were roommates for a while. That’s how I met Kara.”
Her eyebrows rose in shock. Not only was he not acting mad at her, he was giving her information she hadn’t found anywhere. “He did not mention that piece of evidence, nor is it anywhere in the reports.”
“No, I suppose he wouldn’t. He was unofficially living with me for a few weeks back then. His name wasn’t on the lease.” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Why don’t I walk you back to your car,” he suggested, standing up.
Before she could argue, he took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet.
For a brief moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again, but then he took a step away.
They headed out into the fading light, the sound of the surf steady and calming as they crossed the grassy yard and descended the wooden stairs leading down to the beach. The air was cooler now, a salty breeze brushing over her skin as her shoes hit the sand.
For a while, they didn’t speak, the only sounds between them the crunch of their footsteps and the distant call of gulls over the water. Dylan tucked her hands into her shorts pockets, eyes focused on the waves ahead as she collected her thoughts.
“I wasn’t supposed to get emotionally involved,” she said finally, breaking the silence. “Kevin hired me a few weeks back. He said he just wanted closure. Told me that the police had botched the investigation and that… things didn’t add up. He suggested I start with you.”
She glanced at Abe, who was listening silently beside her, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
“He didn’t tell me about your history,” she added. “Didn’t mention he knew you at all, let alone that you’d been roommates.”
Abe’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t speak.
“He was right about one thing, though,” she continued. “The case was sloppy. Half of the files were incomplete, and any time I try to request official reports, I hit a brick wall. It feels like someone wants it buried.” She paused. “And they’ve done a damned fine job of it too.”
They crested a low dune, and her car came into view in the distance, parked beneath a light in the public parking lot.
“I wasn’t looking to get this close to you,” she added quietly. “At least not at first.”
“But you found me anyway,” he said softly.
She nodded, her throat tight. “I did.”
Abe slowed a little, then turned towards her. “And now?”
She stopped walking, staring out over the darkening waves. “Now I want the truth. And I think the only way to find it is to work with you.”
He nodded after a few beats, then stepped beside her again. “Then we’ll find it.”
She took his hand. “Something told me, from the start, that you weren’t involved.”
He took a deep breath and glanced up at the sliver of the moon. “I don’t trust easily. Not after…” He shook his head and then turned back towards her. “I dropped my guard with you. Don’t make me regret it.”
She felt as if she’d been slapped. All she could do was give him a silent promise with a quick nod of her head.
“From here on out, I’ll expect only the truth. You give it, and you’ll get it.” His eyes searched hers.
“That’s fair,” she whispered.
He swallowed and then took her hand, and they walked the rest of the way in silence, a different kind this time, one not filled with tension or suspicion but with something steadier. A quiet understanding. A fragile trust.
When they reached her car, she turned to him, her hand already on the door. “I’m not good at this either,” she admitted. “The… trusting part.”
Abe smiled gently, reaching out to brush a windblown strand of hair from her cheek. “Yeah. I figured as much”
For a moment, they just stood there, the ocean behind them, the sliver of a moon hanging high above them with all the stars.
This time, she let him make the move.
When he finally lowered his lips towards hers, she felt her entire body vibrate with desire. At least he hadn’t kicked her out or, worse, called the police on her and had her hauled in for B&E.
When his mouth covered hers and she tasted him on her tongue, she relaxed and melted like she had during that first kiss.
This was something she’d never had before. Something she so desperately wanted to explore. To understand more deeply.
Then, without another word, he pulled away.
“Goodnight, Dylan,” he said softly, and then he turned and started walking back down the beach.
She waited, watching until he was nothing more than a shadow before she got in her car and closed the door.
She sat there for a long moment, her fingers resting on the wheel, unmoving. Her lips still tingled, her chest was tight from the warmth of his kiss and the deeper weight of everything that had just passed between them. She drew in a breath, long and slow, trying to slow her racing thoughts.
This wasn’t what she’d come here for.
And yet it was the only part of this town that felt real.
Why hadn’t he turned her away the moment he’d found out who and what she was? The only answer she could come up with was that he was telling the truth. He wanted to find who was driving that night as badly as he’d said.
She’d felt that in her bones from the moment she’d started watching him. Really watching him.
Whatever had happened more than five years ago, Abe Collins had had nothing to do with the death of the woman he had loved.
And it was clear that he had loved Kara. If the look in his eyes in that faded photograph wasn’t proof enough, the way his voice cracked when he spoke about her left no doubt.
The roads were quiet as she drove back towards her house. The porch lights throughout town flickered on as night fell fully over the coast, casting shadows over picket fences and gravel driveways. Everything about the town looked the same. But it wasn’t. Not really. And neither was she.
Once inside the log cabin, she kicked off her running shoes by the door and made her way into her dad’s small office at the back of the house. The room still smelled faintly of old paper and leather from her dad’s years of use, and she found a strange comfort in that as she powered up her laptop.
Her inbox chimed the moment it connected to the Wi-Fi.
Kevin Sinclair.
She stared at the name for a second, debating whether to open it or not. But eventually she clicked.
Any updates? It’s been over a week since you returned to Pride. I’m starting to get the sense you’re holding something back. If you’ve found anything, even something small, you need to tell me. I’m not paying you to go dark. Call or email, your choice.
Dylan leaned back in her chair and stared at the screen, chewing her thumbnail. He wasn’t wrong. She was holding back information from him. But she couldn’t tell him that Abe knew who she was now. Not yet. Not when everything had shifted so completely in just a matter of hours.
Instead, she clicked reply and began to type.
I’m still digging. You were right about the inconsistencies in the report. I’ve found something that might be significant, but I need time to verify before jumping to conclusions.
Give me a couple more weeks. I promise, I’ll have a full update for you then.
—Dylan
She stared at the message for a beat, then hit send before she could change her mind.
Leaning back, she exhaled and let her eyes drift closed. Abe had been honest with her. Brutally honest. And tonight, she had seen the obvious weight that he still carried about Kara in his grief, his questions, and his uncertainty about the past.
She had come to this town chasing the truth. But now, part of her wasn’t sure what she’d do if the truth hurt someone she was starting to care about.
Shutting down her laptop, she stood, rubbing the tension from the back of her neck. Whatever happened next, she’d have to be careful. Not just with what she found, but with whom she trusted. And most importantly, with what she was willing to lose in the process.
She needed ice cream. Walking over to the fridge, she pulled out some Ben and Jerry’s and turned on the news. Halfway through the report, she switched to a crime movie and fell asleep on the sofa with an empty ice cream container on her lap and murder in her dreams.
The next morning, Dylan woke stiff and disoriented, one arm hanging off the sofa and an empty pint of Ben and Jerry’s nestled between two throw pillows like a sad badge of honor.
The crime movie had been replaced by some overenthusiastic morning show host who looked far too cheerful for the hour.
She groaned, sat up, and winced as her neck protested the night spent curled like a question mark.
After a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes, she grabbed her bag and headed into town. She needed caffeine, a moment of normalcy, and maybe, just maybe, a quiet place to think.
The Brew-Ha-Ha was buzzing with its usual charm.
Eclectic music drifted from hidden speakers, the scent of roasted beans, cinnamon, and sugar wafted through the air, and the low murmur of voices could be heard over clinking mugs.
Dylan stepped up to the counter and ordered a vanilla latte and a blueberry scone before sliding into one of the deep armchairs near the window with a worn paperback mystery.
She’d barely read two pages before a familiar voice startled her.
“Dylan?”
She looked up to see Lucy standing just a few feet away, her son clinging to her leg.
Her newborn was asleep in the stroller. Today, Lucy looked less frazzled but still worn, like someone who hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in years.
Her hair was swept up into a messy bun, and her oversized cardigan was speckled with what might’ve been cracker crumbs or glitter, maybe both.
Beside her stood a tall, solidly built man with kind eyes and a baby carrier slung over one arm.
“Troy, this is Dylan, the one I told you about.” Lucy’s voice was soft but edged with nervous excitement. “Dylan, my husband, Troy. He works at the Coast Guard facility.” She sighed. “Can I… would you mind if I sat with you? Troy’s going to take the kids to the park for a bit.”
Dylan blinked, surprised but too polite to say no. “Uh, sure. Of course.”
Troy gave her a small wave. “Nice to meet you.” He bent to scoop Dylan, her namesake, into his arms and murmured something to Lucy before heading out the door without the stroller, holding his daughter and his son in his arms. He looked like an expert dad, not someone who had never cared for both kids before now.
Lucy eased down across from her, exhaling like someone who’d just run a marathon. “God, thank you. I love them, but sometimes I just need one hour without someone screaming or wiping their nose on my jeans.”
Dylan smiled, though she could tell it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No problem.”
They sat in silence for a moment, Lucy nursing her own latte before finally speaking again. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for years. I just didn’t know if you’d want to hear it.”
Dylan’s fingers tightened slightly around her mug.
“I was scared,” Lucy admitted, eyes fixed on the table.
“Everything that happened… how everyone turned their backs on you, including me. I didn’t want to dismiss our friendship, but I was a coward.
After what I’d gone through, I just wanted…
popularity,” she blurted out the last word like she’d just ripped of a bandage.
Dylan didn’t answer right away. The past had settled between them like fog—thick, unspoken, impossible to ignore.
“I named my son after you,” Lucy added softly, “because deep down, I always knew that you didn’t deserve any of it. I am so deeply sorry that I hurt you.”
That nearly undid her. Dylan blinked hard, staring out the window so Lucy wouldn’t see the shimmer in her eyes.
“You don’t owe me anything,” Lucy said, reaching across the table, not to touch, just to be closer. “But if you ever want to talk… or scream… or throw things, I’m around.”
Dylan swallowed the knot in her throat. “Thanks,” she managed. “I’m just… not there yet.”
Lucy nodded like she understood. “I get it. When you are, I’ll be here.” She gave her a weak smile. Dylan nodded slightly in understanding.
They finished their drinks in silence, though it wasn’t quite as strained as before. When Troy returned with the kids in tow, Lucy smiled and gave Dylan a hug that she didn’t expect.
As Dylan walked back to her car, the warmth of the coffee and the weight of old wounds tugged at her chest. Lucy’s words had cracked something open. Maybe, just maybe, not everything from the past had to stay broken.
But that didn’t mean she was ready to forgive.
Not yet.