Chapter 8LinkCassie
Chapter 8
Link
I wish I were anywhere but here.
Cassie’s obviously mad at me, though I don’t know what I did to deserve it. Quinn and I were just having a bit of fun. If anything, she should be mad at Quinn. I wasn’t the one who brought up Robby.
Not that I don’t think he played a big part in her abilities as a private investigator. I just know it’s still a sore spot. Same as it is for me. Every time I think of him, a little piece of my heart breaks off. Looking at Cassie now, the way she broods when she’s upset, the way her brows scrunch into a tiny arrow, and her shoulders go up… She’s so much like him it hurts.
Although maybe I needed this reminder because seeing her looking exactly like Robby makes it easier to remind myself that she’s off limits. No matter what the rest of my heart might think, I know she’s a line I can’t cross.
“Left or right?” Cassie asks although I’ve just told her where to turn.
“Right. At the car wash.”
“You said left!”
“No, I said left at the bank after the car wash.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
“It does if you follow directions. Get in that lane! I should be the one driving. I know where we’re going.”
“If you’d tell me where we’re going, I could put the address in my phone like a normal person, and I wouldn’t have to listen to you right now!” Finally, she gets in the lane, but not before grumbling something under her breath about my resemblance to a horse’s behind.
At least this is better than the awkward silence we had earlier. My mind was wandering a little too much then.
“I don’t know the address. And we don’t need it. I know where we’re going. Turn left here.”
“Left? You said it was gonna be a right! I got in this lane!”
“It’s a shortcut.”
Quinn laughs in the back seat as Cassie swerves between lanes and makes the sharp left. “You know what you two sound like?”
I shoot her a look that says, ‘Do not finish that sentence.’
I don’t think I can handle it.
“Siblings.”
Not where I thought she was going.
“Ha!” Cassie says, a little too loud. “My mom would’ve been what? Negative five when she had you?”
“Hey, I’m two years younger than Sophie, thank you very much.” The name feels strange on my tongue. I can’t remember the last time I spoke of her. That topic was entirely off-limits when Robby was alive—poor guy.
Poor Cassie.
I want to reach out, pat her shoulder, and tell her I’m sorry, but the way she bristles at the name makes it clear that physical contact with me is the last thing she wants.
All for the best , I tell myself. I should remember that from now on.
Cassie is off-limits .
“Are you sure this is the right way?”
I feel the bumps of the gravel road before her words register. No, this is definitely not the right way. “Of course!” I point to another side road. “Turn there.”
Quinn is oddly quiet in the back seat, and I don’t dare look at her. She can’t keep a straight face. She’ll give me away.
The gravel gives way to an even bumpier alley. I would feel triumphant if Cassie wasn’t pointing at a very ominous red-and-white sign.
“Keep out? Lincoln!”
“That doesn’t mean us,” I say, pointing to the next turn. “Left.”
“You’re gonna get me pulled over.”
“No, I’m not. I do this all the time. And besides, those guys owe me a favor.” I make the mistake of turning back to look at Quinn. She looks uncomfortable. Maybe she knows some people at the bar.
“They don’t owe me anything. And I’m sure they’d love to bust Cassandra Marie. That’s the last thing I need right now, Lincoln.” The look on her face tells me she’s livid. Too bad it’s also adorable.
I shake the thought away.
What did I just tell you?
Luckily, the road ends just in time and right where I knew it would, sort of.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Cassie stares out at the dive bar, with its peeling paint and flickering sign. “Is this where all the criminal masterminds hang out these days?”
“I’ll have you know Marley’s is a fine upstanding establishment.” I open the door, then Quinn’s.
“Stop poking the bear, or I’ll take my five dollars back,” she whispers.
“That wasn’t part of the deal. And besides, I think she likes it.” We both watch Cassie exit the car and slam her door, then turn around to glare at me.
“Yeah, she looks so happy.”
“Trust me,” I whisper back, then flash my best innocent grin at Cassie. “Shall we?” I hold out my arm for her to take, knowing full well she would never.
She refuses and moves to my other side, using Quinn as a buffer. “If we know who did it, why are we here?”
Quinn comes to my rescue and explains, “Phin doesn’t get his hands dirty. If he’s behind this, we need to find the man on the street. Plus, the client’s theory is never the only one. You know, that whole three versions of the truth thing. It’s real. And…” She gives me a wink before opening the door.
The entire bar erupts in a roar. “Link!”
Granted, it’s the middle of the day, so there aren’t that many people here. But it has the desired effect of making Cassie roll her eyes.
I clap a large, sweaty man on the back. “Steve, what are you doing here?”
“Casing the joint,” he says, taking a swig of his drink.
Quinn points to a bat hanging on the wall behind the bar. “Because he didn’t learn his lesson last time.”
Steve flashes her a smile that’s quite a few shades from pearly white. “Don’t worry. Frank knocked just enough sense into me that all I do is relive my glory days up here.” He taps the top of his head.
“Good,” I say, sitting down beside him. “Plenty of room in there!”
“What are you doing back here? I thought you were on the straight and narrow. Got you a badge and everything.” Steve takes a final drink, which is mostly foam, and I motion for Frank to fill him back up.
“Aw, you know I could never stay away.” Frank brings Steve’s drink and asks us if we want anything. The girls order club sodas and take the two seats beside me. I take note that Cassie positions herself on the other side of Quinn.
“What’s it worth?” Steve asks, bringing all of our attention back to him.
Right to the point. That’s why he’s my favorite.
“Two bills.”
“Three.”
“Depends on the info.”
Steve chugs and doesn’t bother wiping the foam off his mustache before answering. “Depends on the question.”
I motion for Cassie, and she hands me the envelope with the picture of the necklace inside. When I open it, Quinn gasps.
“This turned up missing. Any ideas?” I show Steve the picture. He doesn’t look nearly as impressed as Quinn sounded.
“A bit gaudy for my taste.”
“Good thing you’re out of the game, then.”
Steve nods. “Have you tried Vinnie’s? He’s the only one I know that could handle something this big.”
“You sure?” I close the envelope and go to put it in my pocket, but Cassie snatches it.
“Who’s Vinnie?” she asks.
“Vinnie’s Value Pawn on Washington,” Steve says like it’s totally obvious.
It is… to me. And probably Quinn. But Cassie’s been out of the loop for years now.
Steve holds out his hand.
I slap it like I’m giving him five and stand up.
“My three bills,” he reminds me.
“I gotta go check it out first. If it turns up something, I’ll be back.” Though, for the sake of my bank account, I hope this is a dead end.
We’re barely back outside before Cassie smacks my arm. “A pawn shop! We could have started there! Why did we need to come here and possibly waste $300?”
“There are fifteen pawn shops in the city limits. If we did it your way, we’d waste the whole fee on gas. Now, want me to drive?”
To my surprise, she tosses me the keys and climbs in the back with Quinn. I suppose I should be happy they’re getting along so well. However, I don’t know what that means for me. Two-on-one, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
Good thing Cassie doesn’t want to stay. Little Miss Hollywood probably hasn’t been in a pawn shop in her life.
I get us to the pawn shop in record time, proving that my back roads are the way to go. Cassie and Quinn file out of the back and walk ahead of me like I’m nothing more than their chauffeur. But when they get to the door, Cassie stops cold, and all the color drains from her face, leaving me confused. What’s up with that? It’s just a pawn shop.
Cassie
“Looking for Vinnie,” Lincoln says to the handsome young man behind the counter.
I’d laugh if I weren’t so mortified because that is Vinnie.
My Vinnie.
Vincent Martinez was my first love—my first a lot of things. I swallow the lump that forms in my throat at the flood of memories. He looks the same, except maybe a few pounds of muscle and that stubble across his chin.
I can’t believe it’s him. He wanted to get out of town as bad as I did.
But here we both are.
Please don’t recognize me.
I'm sure Lincoln’s saying something, an attempt to be charming. But all I can do is stare at Vinnie and hide behind Quinn.
“Cassandra?”
I step out from behind Quinn. “Vinnie… hi. I didn’t know you worked here.” I know my cheeks are burning, but I can’t do anything about it.
Vinnie puts his hands out as if to present the pawn shop. “I own it now.”
“Wow, nice.”
Lincoln turns to me and grins so wide I hope his face hurts. “You two know each other?”
Vinnie nods. “Yeah, we used to?—”
“Go to school together,” I finish for him.
Lincoln whispers under his breath, low enough that only I can hear, “And cow pastures.”
Vinnie’s eyes go wide at Lincoln’s closeness to me. “So, you two are…” He points back and forth between us, his fingers making obvious what his voice couldn’t.
Quinn laughs. Then she elbows me and whispers, “He’s hot.”
“I’m just in town finishing up some loose ends after my dad—” Now I’m the one who can’t finish.
The way Vinnie’s expression softens, I know he understands. I still find that attractive about him. He always seemed to understand.
Lincoln moves in front of me to break the unblinking stare between us. “We’re looking for this necklace,” he says, pointing at my hand. I still can’t move, so he takes the envelope and shows it to Vinnie.
My Vinnie.
I shake the thought away. He hasn’t been my Vinnie in years, not since senior prom. When those memories finally start flooding back, I find it easier to stand before him, feeling nothing.
“Have you seen this necklace?” Lincoln asks as if it’s not the first time.
Vinnie takes the envelope and glances at the picture. “Yeah, someone came in right when I opened up this morning. He didn’t have it on him, but he showed me a picture… nothing fancy like this, just a guy holding it up.” He hands the envelope back to Lincoln. “I turned him away. It was obviously hot. I don’t want nothing to do with that sort of thing.”
Then, he looks right at me and adds, “Since I took this place over for my old man, I’m running it on the up and up.” He puffs his chest out, though his puppy dog eyes tell a different story. One I’d rather not remember.
I give him a polite smile, just enough to let him know I’m proud that he’s making something of himself.
“I liked your show,” he says, still looking at only me. “Are you shadowing Link for research? Or are you back here to take over the family business, too?”
The part he leaves unspoken, except for what his eyes are saying, is that we’d probably see a lot of each other if I were. I remember many nights before our relationship and after it crashed and burned when my dad questioned his dad about some case or another.
“Absolutely not.”
For way too many reasons, the biggest one being the man still grinning from ear to ear in front of me.
“What did he look like?” Lincoln asks.
“Average. Late twenties, thin, baseball cap. The usual.”
“Not the type to be in possession of a piece like this, for sure.”
Vinnie nods.
Quinn leans on the counter, clearly flirting, and asks, “Where should we go next?”
“Well, if you hear anything else, give us a call.” Lincoln’s polite Private Eye smile morphs into something more wicked as he turns back to me. It’s not lost on anyone why he said ‘us.’
“Bye,” Vinnie says, but I’m already being nudged out the door.
Lincoln tosses me the keys, and I get into the car. I'm relieved when he opens the back door and climbs in beside Quinn. It's easier to ignore him from back there.
And easier to ignore that feeling in my chest when he’s too close.
“So, what’s the deal?” Quinn asks before we’re even out of the parking lot.
“Whatever do you mean?” I feign ignorance. Clearly, she saw the looks passed between Vinnie and me, and now she wants me to spill the tea.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Quinn says with a shove on my shoulder. “And you too!” She turns her ire toward Lincoln. “You’ve been holding out on me. Letting me chase loser after loser when a hot business owner is a few blocks away.”
Lincoln shrugs but doesn’t look at her… or me. Again, I’m happy he’s back there, and I don’t even have to see his brooding face through the rearview mirror if I don’t want to.
I study the road, trying not to hear the conversation in the back seat. Quinn can date Vinnie if she wants. Not sure if that will end her obvious streak of losers, though.
I take a deep breath and tell myself that’s not fair. He’s not the same seventeen-year-old kid he was when I knew him.
When he broke my heart.
Made me stronger, I argue back.
And he did. I learned a valuable lesson at that dance. There’s only one person you can trust—yourself.
It’s too quiet in here . That’s why I can’t stop thinking about things that are better left buried.
I turn on the radio, further drowning out Quinn and Lincoln discussing the virtues of Vinnie’s chiseled jaw.
“It wasn’t that chiseled,” Lincoln argues. It’s the first time I think I’ve ever agreed with him.
The song that starts playing isn’t one I recognize and isn’t catchy enough to distract me from Quinn’s response, regardless of how low she tries to whisper it. “You’re just jealous Cassie couldn’t keep her eyes off him.”
“Don’t call me that!”
Lincoln and Quinn jump like they’ve been busted and look at me through the rearview mirror before erupting with laughter.
“Getting close,” Lincoln says, pointing up ahead. “Should be on your left here after two lights… three? Did they put a light at Spruce and McKinley yet?” That last part is meant for Quinn, obviously, though Lincoln hasn’t broken eye contact with me in the mirror.
His light brown eyes twinkle just a bit too brightly for my taste. No respectable man his age should have eyes that pretty. And by the wink, he gives me a moment later, I know he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
We pass the second light, but I still don’t see the pawn shop. I’m about to say so when it finally appears in the distance, right after the third light. “Do I take a left at the light or go past it and?—”
“Turn right. Right. Take this right!” Lincoln slaps the back of the passenger seat several times to get my attention.
I take the right, nearly skidding and slamming on the brakes. It’s another back alley that has nothing to do with the pawn shop.
“What was that for?” I ask, glaring at him through the mirror.
“I know a better person to talk to,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to act cool, but he’s practically twisting his head in a full circle to stare at the pawn shop through the back window. I can barely see half his face, but his expression is pure fear. Fear and Lincoln Suco are not two things that go together. In fact, the times when I remember Lincoln looking so much as bothered were terrible, just like when my dad would get that look.
What could possibly be bad enough to shake Lincoln Suco?