Chapter 22 Kipp
Kipp
By the time I saw Hattie, I was ready to leave. In fact, I was hiding out and planning my escape. I’d promised Sage that I’d stop by her booth, but that was my only commitment for the evening.
Tear-down wasn’t scheduled until Monday, and luckily, the committee had hired some high school kids to handle it. I was on shift anyway, so I was in the clear.
The thing about any gathering in a town our size was that they could fool you.
They looked like nothing more than a good time with fair food, but beneath all that fun and sugar was real hard work.
There were cables to lay and debates over who ordered the wrong-size folding tables.
By the time the sun set, the entire Holt family had been running on empty, even my sisters, who typically seemed to have energy for days for these sorts of things.
Sage and Phiny, in particular, seemed to thrive on any sort of organization that involved social events.
But walking beside Hattie in the cooling dark, I was amazed to find myself feeling anything but tired. After our evening together, I found myself craving more time with her.
We’d finished our tacos and picked up a margarita from another vendor.
We’d even stopped by Wild Bloom, where luckily Sage was caught in a long line.
She was selling adorable tiny pots of moss and baby succulents.
Remembering to talk to her about getting some cacti for the cabins, or maybe some more child-friendly succulents, I filed that thought away for later and waved, counting it as a stop even though Hattie looked annoyed when we didn’t stop to visit.
“She’s crazy about your podcast.” She choked a little on her margarita.
“Ah,” Hattie took a breath, coughing a little. “It’s always interesting when people who I’ve met listen,” she said, brushing hair behind her ear. “I love my listeners, but I enjoy anonymity sometimes.””
I understood that she might want to enjoy some separation from that online persona.
It must be hard for her, constantly on the go, and when she did meet people, those people were already carrying preconceptions about her.
But that did make me wonder a little about why she wanted to keep that part of herself separate.
“It’s funny—I talk all the time on the podcast, but the second someone asks me directly to talk about myself, I never know where to start.”
“Start anywhere,” I said. “I’m not picky. What kind of food do you like to eat? What’s your favorite TV show? It doesn’t have to be deep.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “Well, I love crappy Chinese food—the kind where your sweet-and-sour chicken is that particular shade of neon orange. Americana Chinese food, I guess. Nothing authentic about it. With fried rice and egg rolls. Favorite TV show? Anything mind-numbing that helps me shut everything down. Re-runs of cooking shows are great, or any comedy. Bring me an action movie and I’ll even like that. What about you?”
“I can get down for some Chinese food any time. My absolute guilty pleasure is pizza dipped in ranch dressing.” She made a face. “Hey now, no judging.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, go on.”
“My family thinks it’s disgusting too, except for Wade, who loves ranch.” Wade was my sympathizer when it came to condiments. Phiny was the one who curled her nose up at them. She was a snob when it came to food.
Fish trotted ahead of us with a rhythm that matched the swing of Hattie’s steps—like he’d folded her into our little orbit without question.
“I want to hear more about them. Your family.” Her face softened as her caramel-colored eyes turned to me while I spoke.
That was one of the things I liked about her—she really paid attention when you talked, her whole body in tune with you.
Some people looked through you, but not Hattie.
It probably made her really good at interviewing.
“Well, let’s see. I have two brothers, Wade and Easton.
Easton is a contractor in town, and my other brother is a police officer for Wildwood Meadows.
Then I have three sisters: Chloe, Delphina, and Sage.
Sage, you’ve met. She owns the florist shop in town; Chloe is a nurse; and Phiny works part-time with Lila at Chapter if anything, she looked accustomed to being questioned about her work.
“That area where her car was found is deserted for a reason. In the last seven years, we’ve had three assaults there.
” My jaw flexed as her hand trembled and she shoved her hair over her shoulder.
“You shouldn’t go there by yourself. Or at all for that matter.
Just because the areas around here are small doesn’t mean that they have no crime. ”
“I’ve been in worse places.”
“That’s not comforting.” My teeth ground together as I thought of her soft skin and how breakable she was. I wasn’t denying that she was capable, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be taken by surprise. Anyone was fair game in the woods. Anyone.
Her lips twitched, but I could see the tiredness now, the flicker of fear she’d been pretending wasn’t there.
“I can’t just sit in a room with files and hope the answers fall into my lap,” she said.
“People vanish into thin air, Kipp. Someone has to track down where they disappeared. Most of the time, the police are doing their best, but sometimes other cases get in the way. Or sometimes…” she shrugged, but I heard the words that she wasn’t saying.
Sometimes people turned up dead. Bad things happened to good people.
“Then at least let someone go with you.” My voice dropped. “Or do me a favor and stay away from the police chief out in Briar Falls.”
Her brow lifted, and she popped a hand on her hip. “Intriguing. Tell me more.”
I could practically see the shift into investigator mode, and it was a turn-on.
My one serious relationship had been with a woman who was so vapid you could see straight through her.
It was a mistake being with someone who hadn’t had an original thought in her head.
Hattie was the exact opposite. You could see the gears turning as she watched me with her eyes fixed on me, sharp and calculating.
She was running through my words, picking them apart for clues.
She clocked them instantly, eager to extract every last morsel from their bones.
“Chief Galloway is the kind of man who smiles at you like he’s thinking of all the ways he can get away with something.” Shifting my weight, I felt the familiar irritation rise beneath my skin. “And he’s been pissy since the Allison Finch case. He doesn’t want anyone poking around it.”
That got her attention. Her eyes sharpened. “You know about that case.”
“Not specifically,” I admitted. “But I know of the chief over there. Small towns.”
Her breath caught, enough for me to notice. “Kipp,” she said softly, “I don’t need anyone to worry about me or expect you to. Just so you know, it’s not your place to understand or give me permission.”
“Well,” I said, stepping closer, “too damn late. I’m invested now.”
There had been anger in her voice earlier, but now the slight tremble of her inhale, and the way her gaze dropped to my mouth before quickly looking away revealed she was drawing me in. Maybe I’d thought that one night would be enough, but that wasn’t going to work for me anymore.
“You had a rough day.” I hadn’t missed the slight redness that lingered around her eyes.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I did.”
“We can walk more,” I said. “Or sit somewhere. Or I can take you back. Whatever you need.”
She looked up at me then—and there was something raw in her gaze. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“That’s easy to remedy.” I stepped into her space before I could think better of it.
Hattie’s lips brushed against the edge of my jaw.
Her hands hovered at my belt loop, close enough that the air felt charged.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I told her. “Luckily, we’re neighbors.
There are perks that people in Cabin Six get. ”