Chapter 41 Haven #3
Kai’s fingers have stilled inside me, though he hasn’t removed them. As soon as Bastian puts his phone down, he pumps his fingers in and out of me again.
“Still close, baby?” Kai murmurs, leaning over to me and kissing my ear.
“Yeah,” I moan softly.
As I turn so that he can kiss my mouth, a shadow falls over our table.
“Well, isn’t this cozy? Hope I’m not interrupting.”
My blood turns to ice.
Deputy Thatcher stands at the edge of our booth, thumbs hooked in his belt, a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s in full uniform—badge gleaming, hat on, the bulge of that insidious black notebook in his shirt pocket.
Kai’s fingers yank out of me so fast I barely clamp down on my gasp in time. My underwear slides back into place, cold and damp. I squirm in my seat before I can force myself to sit still, drawing a flicker of Thatcher’s eyes.
“Deputy,” Bastian says smoothly, as if he wasn’t just watching my boyfriend finger me under the table. “What brings you to campus?”
“Just wanted to chat with Miss Lee for a moment, if that’s alright.” Thatcher’s gaze sweeps over the three of us, lingering a beat too long on me. More precisely—on my flushed cheeks. “Mind if we step outside?”
Yes. Yes, I mind very much because I’m pretty fucking sure there’s a wet spot on the back of my skirt.
“It’s freezing out there,” I hear myself say as I wave to the space beside Bastian. “Why don’t you join us?”
What am I doing? What am I doing?
But the thought of Thatcher pulling me aside is so much worse than whatever he might say in front of Kai and Bastian.
I’ve got no secrets from them anymore.
Thatcher slides into the booth next to Bastian, who shifts to make room with blatant distaste.
“Much obliged,” Thatcher says to Bastian, then turns to me with what looks like genuine sadness on his face. “It’s about your father, Miss Lee.”
His words knock the air out of my lungs. I’m dimly aware that Kai’s gripping my thigh, but other than that, my body has gone numb.
There’s been precious little time to think about my excuse of a father, or his unexpected—though not unlikely—overdose.
“First off, please accept my condolences. What with Kai’s arrest, it completely slipped my mind to mention something when you came through for your interview.”
My interrogation, he means. But I’m too nervous to be snarky right now. Not with the way Thatcher’s scrutinizing me like he’s trying to read my mind.
“Th-that’s okay,” I mumble, lacing my fingers on the table in front of me.
Thatcher shifts, pulling his lips into a wan smile as he glances first at Kai, then Bastian, like he’s hoping they also won’t think he’s a dick.
None of us are buying his act, though. Bastian is watching him with a perfectly neutral expression, and Kai’s scowling at him like he’s hoping Thatcher’s boy-next-door haircut will catch on fire.
“The coroner’s report came back. Official cause of death was an overdose. No evidence of foul play.” Thatcher’s voice is gentle, sympathetic. It makes my skin crawl. “I know it’s not easy to hear, but at least there’s some closure.”
Closure? Bobby and his scumbag brother-in-law, Lenny, will haunt me forever.
“I appreciate you letting me know,” I say carefully.
“Of course.” He pauses, his eyes still on me. “If you have any questions about the process, or if there’s anything you need help with regarding the estate…”
“Estate?” I blurt out through a laugh. “He was broke as fuck. I’m shocked he could afford enough meth to overdose.” I let out another laugh, but everyone’s suddenly looking grim.
Even Kai’s just staring at the table, eyes wide.
Shit.
The four of us sit there, tension crackling like static electricity.
Then Thatcher slaps his palms on the table, making me jump.
“Well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to check in, offer my condolences.” He starts to slide out of the booth. “You folks have a good Thanksgiving.”
Bastian stands with him. “I should be getting back to my office as well.”
My heart sinks. He’s leaving already?
“So, what are your plans, Deputy?” Bastian says, his voice casual.
Thatcher pauses, frowning briefly. “My plans?”
The two men stare at each other like they can both see past the mask the other wears. Thatcher’s polite smile, Bastian’s haughty blankness.
“For Thanksgiving,” Bastian says.
“Oh,” Thatcher says through a laugh. “No, no plans.”
Bastian smiles warmly, if a little stiffly. “If you’re still in town, maybe you’d like to have a drink with me down at The Hollow Point.”
“That’s…very generous of you, Professor.” Thatcher glances back at me and Kai. Either he’s a terrific actor, or the surprised glint in his eye is genuine. “And, uh, yes. As it so happens, I will be around for a couple of days.”
Bastian tilts his head. “Is that a yes?”
Kai’s hand tightens painfully on mine, and it takes all my effort not to look at him.
What is Bastian doing?
Thatcher is either uncomfortable or flustered, I can’t tell. “Uh…sure. Why not.”
“Excellent. Shall we say eight?”
“Eight works for me.”
They shake hands. Thatcher tips his hat to me and Kai, then walks away, his boots echoing on the cafeteria floor.
Bastian doesn’t sit back down. He gathers his coffee cup and what’s left of his sandwich, his movements precise, controlled.
“What the hell was that?” Kai whispers, his voice tight.
Bastian glances down at him. At us.
“You said you were busy,” he murmurs.
“So we’re not—“ I drop my voice, glancing around to make sure no one’s in earshot “—coming over tonight?”
“No.” Bastian takes out his phone, frowning as he stares at the screen. “I’ll pick you up after Thanksgiving. You can spend the weekend.”
I widen my eyes at him, tilting my head. When he sees my expression, Bastian adds a reluctant, “He’s circling us, and I need to know why.” He smirks at us. “Don’t worry. I’ll be polite.”
Then he’s gone, striding across the cafeteria without looking back.
Kai and I sit in stunned silence.
“Polite?” Kai mutters.
My phone buzzes. I check it automatically, thinking it’s a reply from Milo.
It’s not.
“Maybe we should call your friend back,” Kai says. “Find out what he knows.”
I stare at the unanswered text on my screen as Milo’s words echo in my head.
…he’s dangerous…
“Is it wrong of me,” I say slowly, “to not want to know?”
Kai doesn’t answer, and that’s answer enough.