Justin
“Thank you for lunch.”
“Thanks for eating some of these damn waffles.” They looked nice, covered in syrup and whipped cream and sprinkles, but they tasted like cardboard. “Don’t take a job at that place. You cook much better than they do.”
Plus the decor hurt his eyes. Anyone who spent longer than a day in the Waffle Factory would end up with a migraine.
“It pays money, plus they offer split shifts so I could work around Shiro.”
“I thought you wanted to do the blog thing?”
“I do, but…”
“Follow your heart for six months, see where it takes you.”
“I’m just not sure I can afford to.”
“Cook me dinner each night, and I’ll pay you whatever they would.”
Norquist Construction had done well over the years, and Justin didn’t live extravagantly. He could afford to pay Jessie not to work at a third-rate restaurant. Hell, he’d spent more on Melanie’s New York rent every month, and she’d be paying that herself now.
Plus Justin needed to keep Jessie away from Maine.
Needed to prevent her from giving her husband another chance.
He knew the statistics—on average, it took a woman four to seven attempts to leave an abusive relationship, and this was still her first try.
His mom had gone back to his dad nine times before he finally killed her.
And now that Justin had gotten to know Jessie a little, he discovered he’d do whatever it took to protect her.
He glanced sideways as she popped a piece of waffle into her mouth and licked syrup off her top lip. Fuck. He hadn’t missed the looks from the staff when the two of them walked into the office—curious ones from the women, envious ones from the men.
Do not go there, asshole.
Jessie was fragile. She needed time to heal and help to rebuild her life, not a hookup with a man who wasn’t over his last relationship.
His last three relationships, if he was honest. He’d always seen himself as a wife-and-kids guy, and yet he had three failed engagements and a truckload of heartache in his rear-view, and nothing but roadblocks ahead.
Where the hell was Amie?
“That doesn’t really seem right,” Jessie said, sounding cautious. “You’d pay me to cook once a day?”
She wasn’t wrong. From her point of view, the proposition didn’t make sense, and he realised where her thoughts were heading. A salary for cooking and maybe a few fringe benefits. He had to make it clear that he wasn’t that kind of guy.
Which meant telling her about his past.
About his parents.
Fuck, he hated talking about his parents.
“Yeah, I would. Because a decade ago, my mom was where you are now, and I want your story to have a different ending than hers.”
“Your dad…he hit her?”
“And then some. He died in a bar fight while he was out on bail for her murder.”
That fuckin’ judge. Justin didn’t even get the satisfaction of seeing the son of a bitch end up in jail.
“I…I don’t know what to say. I’m so incredibly sorry.”
“Say you’ll stay away from Maine. And I didn’t tell you that to scare you. I’m just trying to explain why I’d rather you stayed in my spare room instead of going back home.”
“I’ll stay away from Maine.”
“Good, because I know how your husband’s mind works.
I saw it firsthand. If he finds out where you are, he’ll show up on the doorstep.
He’ll send you gifts, he’ll get down on his knees and say he’s sorry, he’ll promise things will be different.
Men like him get off on one thing: control.
Right now, he’s losing his shit looking for you because he sees your escape as a personal failure. ”
“I believe it,” she whispered. “Really, I do.”
“I wasn’t strong enough to take on my dad back then.
I’m not talking physically. He used to play mind games, convince my mom that he was right and I was the bad guy.
But I’m in a better place now, and if paying you to cook me dinner lets me avoid going to another fucking funeral, then that’s what I’m going to do. Okay?”
Jessie just stared at him.
“Okay?” he repeated, and she nodded quickly.
“Okay.”
“Now we need to find Amie.”
There were three security cameras at the office—one above the front door, a second covering the storage yard, and the third pointed at the fabrication building where they assembled the tiny homes.
At 6:27 on Wednesday, the front camera showed Justin and Amie as they exited the office, and nothing seemed amiss.
He paused for a moment before walking back into the building, and she carried on ahead to the temporary parking lot.
“Why did you go back inside?” Jessie asked.
“I forgot to pick up a folder. Plans for an upcoming development. I like to print everything because it helps me to visualise the layout better. Amie always tells me to ‘think of the trees, Justin.’”
And then he’d spotted an empty coffee cup on his desk and detoured to put it into the dishwasher, which was full, but nobody had turned it on, probably because there were no tablets left in the kitchen.
So he’d gone to the storeroom to find another box, and then set the dishwasher running.
When he left again at 6:33, he’d walked around the side of the building instead of heading to the lot.
“Why did you go that way?” Jessie asked.
“My truck was parked out back by the factory. Ted’s on vacation this week, so I picked up some bathroom fittings earlier to help the fabrication team. But I had to drive past the lot, and Amie’s car was gone.”
“There’s no camera in the parking lot?”
He shook his head. “We outgrew our last place and moved here six months ago. We’re still getting things up and running. The main parking lot has drainage issues, so we’re using a temporary lot to the side.”
“I guess that explains the backhoe and all the holes.”
“We’re planning to stay here for the foreseeable future, so it’s worth investing in the infrastructure upfront. We do have lights in the temporary lot. They’re solar-powered, and they come on at sunset.”
“I don’t think Amie was worried when she left. If she were, she would’ve asked you to walk with her, or at least made sure her keys were in her hand before she set off.”
“I’d have followed her home and seen her to the door if she felt unsafe.” Justin sighed and dropped the remains of his waffle into the trash. “Let’s try the fish place.”
The “fish place” was more formally known as Abe’s Aquatics, and it occupied a large lot on the outskirts of town. Entry was over a bridge that spanned a large koi pond, and Jessie paused to look over the railing at the fish gliding through the water below. Then she seemed to catch herself.
“Sorry, sorry, I know we’re in a hurry.”
“Taking ten seconds to watch something beautiful won’t hurt,” he said as he watched her.
The koi glided serenely through the water, and for a moment, Justin was taken back in time.
They’d been building a Japanese garden in the yard at Blackstone House, a pond with a deck and—eventually—giant bonsai and cherry trees.
Ruby had a vision, and as usual, Levi had been happy to indulge her.
They’d gotten as far as digging the hole, plus Alexa had ordered a bunch of fancy rocks that the delivery company had dumped in the wrong place, and nobody had worked out how they were going to move them.
The damn things were most likely still sitting there.
Once or twice, Justin had driven past his old home out of morbid curiosity.
For several years, nature appeared to be taking over Blackstone House, the trees growing wild, the weeds waist-high.
But more recently, someone had been taking care of the place—the lawn was mowed in summer, and a broken window on the first floor had been fixed.
But who? Nobody appeared to be living there.
The place was always dark, no cars were parked in the driveway, and the broken remains of Ruby’s rocking chair still sat on the front porch.
“They’re so serene,” Jessie said. “I could watch them for hours.”
Justin preferred his fish lightly steamed with a side of vegetables, but he didn’t say that.
“You want to stay here while I go inside?”
“No, no, I’ll come with you.”
The guy behind the counter definitely wasn’t Brett.
He was older with grey hair and the patience of a saint as he served a lady who kept changing her mind about which tank she wanted to buy.
There were no other staff members in sight, and Justin trailed Jessie as she checked out the indoor tanks filled with tropical fish.
“One of these would look amazing in your hallway,” she said.
“Shadow would love it. One time, she showed up with a live goldfish.”
“Uh, what?”
“Yeah, that was my reaction as well.”
“Where did she get it?”
“I never did work that out.”
“So what did you do with it?”
“I put it in a jug of water and asked around at work. One of Lois’s kids has a tank in his bedroom, and he took it off my hands.”
Finally, the woman at the counter made a decision and left. The grey-haired guy raised his gaze to the ceiling and muttered something before greeting them.
“How can I help you folks?”
Justin stepped forward. “We’re looking for Brett, but I guess he’s not working today?”
“He ain’t working, period. He quit. But if it’s koi you want, I can tell you everything you need to know.”
The guy’s name tag said “Abe,” so presumably he was the owner.
“It’s actually more of a personal matter.”
“He owe you money?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Well, he never seemed to have any, and he took off real sudden-like.”
Justin’s ears pricked up. “Really? When did he go?”
“He didn’t show up on Monday, and when I called him, he said he had to leave town for a while.”
Well, shit. He’d left around the same time as Amie? What did that mean?
“So you spoke with him?”
“He didn’t answer, but then he left a voicemail while I was cleaning out the big koi tank. Probably planned it that way—he knows I’m always up to my armpits in water on Monday mornings.”
“You have his contact number?”
“If he doesn’t owe you money, I wouldn’t bother.”