Chapter 6 #2
I gave her an unimpressed look in return, her sudden caginess as clear a signal as any that whatever she was doing here she wasn’t meeting a friend.
She didn’t attempt to give me any other explanation, though, turning to scan the room in much the same way I had when I entered.
Before I could think of anything else to say, the other barista was at the counter handing me a white paper bag and a large iced coffee.
My fingers had just begun to wrap around the plastic surface of the cup when he let go, the drink slipping from both of our hands.
I sucked in a breath as an image flashed in my mind; one of my coffee splattered across the countertop and dripping everywhere, wasted.
I immediately dropped the croissant in favor of catching the drink with my other hand moments before it could land.
A splash of cold coffee spilled over my fingers, but thankfully I was able to catch it and keep it steady, averting disaster just in the nick of time.
“Whoa,” the guy said, “Sorry, that was a close one!”
“Yeah,” Kenna said as she narrowed her eyes at me. “Good catch, Hale.”
“McKenna, darling!” a woman with a high-pitched voice called from the doorway before I could reply.
I took in the woman’s two-inch heels, professionally blonde hair, and put-together wardrobe and concluded that whatever Kenna meant when she said friend was more along the lines of sorority sister.
That was the only explanation I had for the way she dramatically kissed the air on either side of Kenna’s head the moment she was close enough to do so.
“Really, you should have waited for me. I wanted to buy your drink, to thank you.”
“No need to thank me, Daliah,” Kenna replied, waving the woman off, looking slightly uncomfortable and a little desperate to change the conversation.
“Don’t be like that,” Daliah said, placing her hand on Kenna’s shoulder. “What you did for me was above and beyond. If you don’t let me thank you properly, I’m going to have to resort to bribery.”
Kenna huffed a soft laugh. “You already tried that.”
“And I will escalate,” Daliah warned lightly, then paused and looked my way, making me realize I had been staring.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were bringing anyone else to this little luncheon, Kenna.
And where are my manners? I’m Daliah Kincade.
I absolutely love your hair, darling, very avant garde. ”
“Thanks,” I said, unable to help myself as my fingers lifted to the blunt, uneven ends. “But I’m not here to stay. Kenna and I just happened to run into each other. I’ll be going now.”
I quickly grabbed the croissant bag, heading back out the door before Deliah Kincade could draw any more attention to my DIY haircut.
It wasn’t a bold style choice; it was a stark reminder of every choice that had led me here.
My fingers brushed my hair as I left, smoothing, adjusting. As if there were any fixing it now.
The scent of warm, buttery pastry filled the car as I settled into the driver’s seat, my shoulders relaxing at the protective barrier of glass and steel insulating me from the rest of the world.
Still caught in the uncomfortable interaction I’d had with Kenna, I stared at the back side of a Subaru that was parked in front of me.
It had ‘wash me’ written out in the dirt-coated back window.
I wondered if it had been the owner or one of their friends who had written that little message.
Perhaps even a stranger just passing by.
It was a good distraction, a good way to stop from spiraling into paranoia.
There was no way Kenna could have known that I would be in that coffee shop, or for her to stage her friend’s appearance to make it look like she wasn’t there for me.
Not everything was some massive, complicated conspiracy to ruin my life.
Sipping at my coffee, I felt a bead of sweat trailing down my back. I turned the car on. The weak air conditioning did little to cool the small space, but I had to work with what I could get. Or rather, what Noah could get for me.
Taking a bite of my croissant, I pulled out my phone, dialing his number. By the time he answered on the third ring the croissant was nearly gone.
“Hale, is everything okay?” Noah’s words came out sharp, alert. It was nice to hear a familiar voice. To know someone out there still worried about me. I knew, on some level, that my father and my aunt Rita were out there worrying about me too, but this felt more immediate.
“Everything’s fine,” I assured him around the last mouthful of pastry before clearing my throat and turning to look out the driver’s side window at the coffee shop.
I could see right in, could see Kenna sitting there across the table from her friend.
“You know Trick’s sister, right? What’s her deal? ”
“McKenna Scott?” Noah asked. “I don’t know her personally, but I’ve heard enough about her from Trick. Last I knew she was out of the country. Why?”
“Because she’s not. I’m looking right at her,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the woman in question.
“And apparently she’s a trained private investigator.
Which means yet another person I have to keep my head down around.
And she isn’t even the biggest threat here.
Were you aware that ASAC Coal Shepherd of the New York field office has family in the area that he would be visiting for the Fourth of July? ”
“Shit,” Noah said, and I could hear in just that one word that he had in fact known—and forgotten—that ASAC Shepherd had connections to Bend. “Tell me he hasn’t spotted you.”
“He hasn’t,” I assured him. “And I plan on keeping it that way.”
“Good,” Noah said. “Shepherd is only a threat if he sees you. Otherwise, he has no reason to suspect you’re in the area.”
“Unless he’s the one behind all of this,” I pointed out, the paranoia creeping in again.
“What, he frames you and then just happens to show up in the same town that you’re hiding out in, clear across the country, but he doesn’t know you’re there or notice you right under his nose?
” Noah asked, and even as he said the words I felt how ridiculous my theory sounded.
“No, whoever did this is smarter than that, and they wanted you behind bars. If they knew where you were the police would be moving in to arrest you before you saw them coming.”
“Right,” I agreed, closing my eyes against the fear that those words elicited.
Ever since taking on a new identity I had caught myself falling into moments where I forgot that what was happening to me wasn’t normal, that living in constant fear of being caught wasn’t how I had spent most of my life.
“I’d be more worried about Kenna, frankly,” Noah continued, unaware of the way his words had affected me. “From what Trick has told me, his sister is tenacious when she wants to be. The moment she senses something might be off about you she won’t let it go until she’s figured it out.”
Too late, I thought, watching her throw back her head as she laughed at whatever the woman across from her was saying.
There wasn’t anything that Noah could do about what Kenna did or did not think of me, though, so I simply let the silence linger between us for a moment.
In the background of the call I heard a car horn.
He was outside then, not at the Portland FBI field office.
It was Sunday. That didn’t mean much in terms of whether he had actually taken the day off, but he wouldn’t have answered my call if he was at work.
I knew that. Still, it was nice to have the confirmation.
Maybe he was out getting a coffee himself, or about to interview a suspect.
Things I had once dreamed of doing back in Newark, once upon a time.
“Have you found anything yet?” I finally asked, even though I already knew the answer.
“If I had, don’t you think you’d be the first to know?” came his predictable reply.
“No,” I said. “Not if it might cause me to go off-book and get the bastard who did this myself.”
“You’re already off-book, Hastings. Way off-book.” I snorted at the mocking way he pronounced my last name with an emphasis on the word ‘hast’. “But no, there’s nothing new to tell you.”