18. Green eyed monster
Green eyed monster
Elena
“So, what’s her name again?” I ask Wade as I slide out of his truck.
My ankle itches where the GPS monitor is wrapped. For some reason I keep waiting for it to explode or send an electrical shock through me now that we’re out of the house.
“Valerie. And this is her ex-husband that we’re asking about, so keep that in mind,” he grunts as he falls into step next to me.
A tiny bell rattles on a bent rod above the worn wooden door when we push into the Hilltop Bar.
It smells like old beer and pool table felt, but seems clean. The waft of disinfectant backs up my first impression when we pass a dark hall leading toward the bathrooms.
“There aren’t many people here,” I say quietly.
Tables frame an empty stage, with the only patrons draping themselves on the taller stools near the taps.
Bright green eyes appear behind the bar topped with a short shock of black hair. “Hey Wade. You guys want a drink?” The guy is probably about my age, with an infectious smile.
“Maybe something responsible, Scotty. On the clock.” Wade tilts his head towards me.
But then his palm brushes my lower back to steer me into one of the stiff seats sending a sizzle of heat through me.
“Got it. Miss?” That emerald gaze falls on me.
“Oh, um…” I’d love to have something a little stiffer to make this whole experience easier.
Wade clears his throat.
“Diet Coke is fine, thank you.” I guess this isn’t social hour.
I have to keep reminding myself we aren’t friends. If only he wasn’t so damn charismatic.
The warmth from his muscular arm bleeds through the thin fabric of his uniform into my bare one.
It was kinda fun watching his jaw clench when he saw my tank top and shorts.
A woman with bright maroon hair and the same eyes as the man pouring our drinks pushes from the back room carrying a bin of clean glasses.
“Oh, hi Wade.” She sets her load on the counter. “Scotty, will you put these away? I have some stuff to go over with Wade.”
Scotty’s nose gives a fast wrinkle, then nods.
“Val, this is Elena.” Wade’s thumb jerks in my direction. “Elena, this is Val. She knows pretty much everyone.”
Val’s bright red lips curve into a smirk. “Only the important ones. You two follow me to my office.” She spins on her heel, waving her arm over her head without looking back.
A giant oak desk practically suffocates the tiny room. Val drops into an overstuffed swivel chair and gestures to the small bench near the corner.
Wade just nods at me to take it.
“So, you’re the one who blew up Libby’s place?” Her stare is piercing.
The icy glass almost feels slimy now in my hand. “It’s not what you—”
“Yes or no. First step to acceptance is accountability.” Her finger wags at me like my mom used to do.
“Well, yes. But—”
Her palm flattens in the air toward me. “Start there. I’ve had enough of liars in my life. If you fuck up, yet tell the truth, that goes a hell of a lot farther with me.”
My shoulders slump. “I gotcha. That’s fair. Yes, I did some really shitty things and I want to make up for it by catching the asshole who made me do them.”
Val squints one eye. “See? Good girl.” She pats my knee like I’m a child who just recited my times tables. Twirling in her chair, she fires up an archaic computer and starts clicking through screens.
I steal a glance at Wade who’s leaning against the paneled walls with his arms crossing his chest. A flicker of a smile teases up one corner of his mustache.
He’s apparently enjoying himself.
“So,” she sighs over the sounds of her mouse. “I really did purge a lot of these after—” Her wrist flips, making her bracelets jangle, and she tosses some sort of knowing look towards Wade.
What was that? Why don’t I like it?
Do they have secrets?
Did he fuck her?
Stop. Doesn’t matter.
But did he?
Not my business.
Well. It shouldn’t be. Yet I find myself watching them both closer.
“Okay, here’s some.” She turns and pushes herself from between the screen and I. “Here’s Chris.” She points without hiding the venom in her tone. “That’s from about ten years ago. The guy next to him is—”
“My dad.” I’m fixed on the sloppy grin that’s on his face.
I don’t remember my father happy. Only angry. His cheeks would turn red and the veins in his neck would stand out.
Never laughing.
“Ah.” She exchanges another glance with Wade. “It makes more sense now.”
“I’m nothing like him.” There’s gravel in my throat.
How could she possibly know that? Everyone here thinks I’m following in his footsteps.
Her sniff before bringing up the next picture tells me I’m right.
“So here’s about eight years. That’s Ford, Chris, and Sarah.
” The last name she stutters, then quickly changes to a new image, this time in the bar.
“Here’s one of the parties after I took over.
” Her finger taps her lips. “There’s Chris.
That’s Scotty and Sawyer, Mason’s kid. Over there is, um.
” Her mouth purses as she zooms in. “I think that’s Eli and John Bailey.
Yea, that’s his hat.” She waves the tip of her finger over a mashed looking straw cowboy hat.
“That one, John, I kinda remember him. Well, he was with a pretty blond lady who braided my hair.” I know he didn’t stick around much, but the woman stayed near me that whole visit.
“Ah, yea. That was probably their sister, Ava. There was a whole mess of Bailey’s. She died about—” Val flips to face Wade. “Was that already eleven years? Twelve?”
Wade nods, his jaw tight. “About that, yea.”
Damn. I liked her.
“How?” I’m starting to feel hopeless. The only people I recognize can’t be part of this. They’re all fucking dead.
“Car accident. Her boyfriend was drunk.” Val zips through another folder and opens it, scrolling until she pops open another cluster of snapshots.
“These are older. Before we were married.” Her nail taps against the screen. “Those are the Sullivan brothers. Matt and Max. Twin hellions.” She snorts. “Shit, Matt’s dead too. Good riddance.”
Wade grunts a mildly agreeing sound.
“It’s like the wild damn west here,” I whisper. “Who’s that? The profile looks familiar.” I point to the half-blurry dark haired man standing a few feet away talking to Ava.
“That’s Cade,” Wade interjects. “That was Ava’s boyfriend.”
“Is he dead too?” I wouldn’t be surprised.
They should rename Campton to “Boot Hill” like in the old movies.
“Dunno.” Val keeps scrolling. “No one’s heard from him since then.”
“Huh. Can you go back? That John guy. I remember that weird hat. He hung around Dad a lot.” I wish I could pinpoint all the names and people.
If I had just been older, this would be so much easier.
Val checks a few various files, then pulls up a clearer image.
“Oh, yea. I remember that guy laughing when Dad hit my mom. I got so mad at him I wanted to punch him myself.” My fists ball in useless anger at the image on the computer.
Ten year old me would have knocked his lights out if I could have.
Wade inhales sharply. “I’ll have to track him down.”
“Those other ones, the twins? One used to have a beat up truck that he would kick and throw rocks at when they’d drink beer.
” I have a hard time not laughing at the memory.
“He broke his own headlight, then got mad about it and beat up his brother. My dad made me go inside because he said it was rude watch. ‘ What happens in family, stays in family’. That’s what he’d always say. ” And I hated him for it.
Wade’s leather holster squeaks when he shifts. “I think that’s been very helpful. Thank you, Val. I appreciate your time.” He pushes against the wall, then gestures at me.
“Any time.” Val reaches out and lands her palm on my arm, pausing me. “Owning the past is important, but so is growing despite it. We’ve all been through some shit.” Her bright green eyes bore into me before she lets go.
I’m not sure what to say, but my lips thin and I dip my chin.
I will try to be better. I just have to save my sister along the way.