8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
SETH
I opened the door to the police station and glanced over at Violet who stood talking to the desk sergeant. I waited, not wanting to interrupt, and after a moment she looked my way.
She turned and moved toward me, and a smile tugged at my lips as I read her T-shirt: School sucks. Start a band.
I shook my head and held the door so she could exit in front of me. I’d debated texting her all weekend. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Not only had it been more than two years since I started dating someone, this also wasn’t actual dating.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about that asshole ex of hers.
I wanted to make sure he stayed away from her.
And if spending a little bit of time with her solved both of our problems, I didn’t see that as the worst thing that could happen.
Ultimately, that was what led to me finally texting her this morning.
“Anywhere specific you’d like to go?” I asked her, stopping outside on the sidewalk.
“The diner’s always good.”
“Perfect.”
We walked to my car parked down the street and I held the passenger door open for her.
I tried not to stare at her legs, clad in fishnets and cutoff denim shorts, as she climbed into the car.
And I was as unsuccessful this time as I was last time.
Something about those damn fishnets kept pulling me in.
I chuckled at the fact that she hooked her phone back up to my car to play her own music, just like she did on Friday, as I drove toward the diner.
“You guys still working the arson case?” I hadn’t heard an update, but then again I’d been off since Friday, so if there was, I wouldn’t know.
“Yup.” She let out a long sigh. “We’re basically starting over. I’m going through all the video footage we’ve collected since January looking for anything we’ve missed. Or anyone that seems out of place.”
“So you’re not looking at the Taylor kid anymore?”
She shrugged. “We can’t touch him until we solve the fires he has alibis for.
It’s basically one of three scenarios. One, he didn’t start any of the fires.
Two, he’s working with someone. Or three, he’s responsible for all but two fires.
But until we figure out who set those two, or until the guy messes up, there’s not much we can do. ”
“Could be a woman.”
“Not likely. Statistics say it’s probably a man. But who knows? I’m personally not ruling anyone out at this point.”
“We had one in Charlotte.”
“One?” Her brows pulled together.
“A woman arsonist.”
“Huh.” She stared at me. “Is there an interesting story that goes with that tidbit?”
I shrugged. “Abusive husband. She decided burning the house down with both of them inside was better than living.”
Why the hell was I even talking about this? Not really date material.
Fake date. I reminded myself.
“Ouch. Did either survive?”
“He didn’t. She did, but ended up being convicted of manslaughter and arson.”
I still thought about that woman from time to time. The way she cried in relief when her husband was pronounced dead at the scene.
“You guys probably saw a lot of crazy stuff being in a city.”
“Once got called to a car that got wedged between two buildings. It’s hard enough having to cut someone out, but having two large unmovable objects on either side made it near impossible.”
“I can imagine.”
I pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine.
Our conversation waned as we made our way to the building, but I instinctively held the door to the diner open and ushered her inside, resting my hand on her lower back.
She grabbed my hand, and I stiffened, thinking I’d overstepped.
She twined our fingers together, and when I looked down at her, her wide smile made me relax as we waited for the hostess to return.
Luckily there wasn’t a wait and we followed the hostess to an empty table. I wasn’t sure if anyone would notice, or care, but holding her hand definitely had date written all over it.
“See, I told you,” a feminine voice said from a nearby table.
Even though the words registered as I took my seat, I didn’t think they were talking to or about me. Until recently, people around Half Moon Lake had left me alone. For some reason, that damn video made people think I was approachable. I didn’t understand it, nor did I like it.
Violet smiled and waved over my shoulder. I followed her gaze and bit back a groan. Logan and his girlfriend Izzy sat in a booth with Logan’s twin daughters. Shouldn’t they be in school? It was almost the middle of August. Maybe school hadn’t started back yet?
I tipped my chin at Logan and turned back to Violet.
“Do you want to go say hi?” she asked.
I raised a brow. Was she serious? Why did she think I wanted to go say hi? I worked with him and would see him later that night. I didn’t see a reason to interrupt our meals by chatting.
The corners of her lips twitched. “Never mind. Forget I asked that.”
I went back to looking over the menu, and when the waitress came over a few minutes later, we placed our orders.
Logan’s daughters skipped past the table and Izzy slowed down to pause next to us, Logan right behind her. Great. Were they planning to stand here and talk to us?
“You two are dating now, right?” Izzy looked from me to Violet. “Logan doesn’t believe it.”
“Yes,” I blurted out and narrowed my eyes at Logan. After our conversation last week, I’d wondered if the guys would believe we were really dating. “We are.”
Logan’s lips lifted into a smirk. “Come on, sweetheart. Let them get back to their date .”
Fucker .
The way he emphasized the last word made it obvious he still wasn’t buying it. And why did I even care? I didn’t need the guys to believe it, just the rest of this crazy-ass town.
Finally, we were alone again.
“You didn’t tell the guys we’re faking?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Why?”
I had no clue. Probably because I wasn’t sure any of them understood my issue with the attention. “I figured it was on a need-to-know basis, and none of them needed to know.”
She chuckled. “Anyone ever tell you you’re strange?”
I raised one brow at her. Now wasn’t that calling the kettle black. “Could say the same for you.”
Her shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. “Only until they get to know me.”
I was finding her even more strange—or maybe surprising was the right word—since the fire the prior week. Outwardly, she portrayed dark and gloomy. But in reality, she wasn’t either.
The minutes ticked by as we waited for our food, silence surrounding us. I shifted uncomfortably, finally relaxing when she began talking about a new band she’d found on TikTok.
I ignored the looks we were getting from people around us. I had to let them contemplate what was going on between us. For this to really work, small-town gossip had to do its thing.
Once our food was delivered, Violet filled the space between bites with small talk. She was good at this, and didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t. I found out she was twenty-seven—a little more than a year younger than me—an only child, and that she liked the weather here better than in New York.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Tell me something about you. Do you have family in Charlotte?”
I grunted and nodded. When she continued to stare at me expectantly, I shifted uncomfortably. “My parents live in the city. My brother lives in the suburbs with his wife and daughter. She’s six.”
We continued to chat as we ate—actually, it was more her leading the conversation and asking pointed questions. But again, she didn’t seem to mind.
By the time we paid the check and made our way back to the car, I didn’t hate the idea of having to do this again. I wasn’t sure if being seen together twice was enough for the town to believe we were dating. We probably should go out one more time just in case.
Would she agree to that?