Chapter 12CassieLink
Chapter 12
Cassie
Thankfully, I don’t see the car or the scary man on my way to the car. All I want to do is go home—my real home. I can’t believe I thought coming here was a good idea. I need to get out of this town! But I already agreed to help solve the case. I can’t go back on my word. And it’s the least I could do. It’s my fault things got this bad with the company. Well, it’s Lincoln Suco’s fault, but I should have known he’d make a mess of things. That man doesn’t have a responsible bone in his body.
No, I have to stay for now. But we need to buckle down and find that necklace. The sooner we solve this, the sooner I can get out of here. Go back to NY, where it’s safe.
“Cassie!” Lincoln calls after me, but I don’t stop until I get to the car. I don’t even bother to tell him to stop calling me that. It’s obvious he’s never going to listen.
I lean against the station wagon and kick at a stray rock near my foot. Of all the people for me to reignite a crush on, why does it have to be Lincoln Suco? Vinnie was a nice boy. And Quinn said it herself; he’s handsome. Why couldn’t I still have the hots for him?
“What’s your problem?” He actually has the nerve to sound annoyed at me.
At me!
“My problem?” I yell over my shoulder, refusing to look at him. “You’re the one who… who—” I can’t even say it out loud!
“I saved us from some bad dudes, is what I did!” Lincoln comes to my side of the car and gets right up against me before nudging me aside with his hip and unlocking my door.
His musky smell is too much, and I hold my breath to keep from thinking about that kiss, to keep from reliving it.
When he finally moves, I hurry up and get in the car so I can breathe again. And think. But all I can think about right now is him, and I hate myself for it.
I stare out my window as he starts the car… or tries to because it’s a beat-up old wagon.
“Look,” he says, turning to me while attempting to jiggle the key just right. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the kiss. I know it’s gross, and now people are gonna talk and?—”
“Oh my goodness!” I don’t know whether I yell to shut him up or from the horror of what he just said. Because he’s right, people will talk. If anyone in that restaurant—like Miss Link’s So Cute Amber—recognized me, that kiss could be all over the internet tomorrow. Just what I need!
The car starts before Lincoln can make it worse by opening his mouth again, and we drive off.
I can’t believe Lincoln Suco is driving me back to my dad’s house in our old beat-up station wagon. What am I, sixteen?
The mortification of that thought alone should throw a wet blanket over my crush for him, but it only reminds me of how badly I had it for him back then, too.
Don’t say too!
“Why are you living in the garage?” I ask, partly as a jab but mostly to remind myself that he’s not the catch my hormones think he is.
“It’s not a garage.” I see his fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and he takes a deep breath before continuing. “It’s a studio apartment, and it was the best thing for everyone toward the end.” The last part comes out as a whisper, and my heart thuds in my chest.
In the end.
My dad’s end.
Lincoln was there for my dad when I couldn’t be. Wouldn’t. Who knows anymore?
The truth is, I didn’t get back home to take care of him like I should have. First, my mom left both of us when I was little, and then I went and did the same thing to him the first chance I got. I’m no better.
The car comes to an abrupt stop. The old wagon’s wheels screech along the gravel on the side of the road, and the whole thing rattles like it’s falling apart around us.
Just like my whole world.
“Cassie,” Lincoln says again. Only this time, his voice is different. Gone is the anger and defiance. It’s replaced with something that sounds foreign coming out of his mouth. Concern.
I still can’t bring myself to look at him. If I do, I’ll crack; once the tears start, they’ll never stop.
“Cassandra,” he tries again, making the pain so much worse.
“What?” I say to my window.
Lincoln’s finger touches my chin, gently pulling my face toward him. “You’re wrong.”
The heat comes flooding back, and I smack his hand away. “How dare you? You don’t even know what?—”
“It’s written all over your face, Cassie.” His voice is still so low I can’t take it.
“What do you think is written all over my face, oh great Detective Suco?”
“You think you let your father down. You think somehow all of this is your fault. But you’re wrong.” Now, there’s a hint of satisfaction in his voice for saying that word to me twice. He clears his throat and wipes the budding grin off his face. “Robby was so proud of you—everything you did. No part was too small. He bragged about it all. You were all he ever talked about.”
I swallow, but it’s not enough. The tears begin to pour down my cheeks.
Lincoln, oblivious as usual or not caring about how his words are destroying me, doesn’t stop. “He bought so many newspapers. Actual newspapers! I didn’t even know they still made those things. But every time there was a premier, a review, a picture, or your name… It didn’t matter. He would buy multiple copies and clip out every mention of you.”
“Stop,” I beg.
“You were his world. And you could do no wrong in his eyes. And my best friend in the whole world would hate to see you doing this to yourself over something he never gave one moment’s thought to.”
I fumble with the handle. If he won’t stop talking, I’ll walk home.
Just as the door opens, he grabs my arm and spins me back toward him. The thought of him about to kiss me again makes my heart flutter, and I try to snuff the feeling out.
Link
Cassie leans in as she turns, and for a split second, I think she’s going for a kiss, or expecting me to.
And I want nothing more than to obey the pull in my chest begging me to do it.
But I know it will only confuse her more. Both of us. Because what happened back at the restaurant really messed me up. I didn’t have time to think before grabbing her. The only thing I wanted was to protect us, hide us from the goon I knew was there to finish the job.
Should I have stopped and thought about it for half a second first? Maybe. Would we still be here if I had? Maybe not.
It doesn’t negate the fact that I kissed Robby’s daughter, and I think I’ll die if I don’t do it again.
My heart is racing, and it feels like this moment, this lean, is dragging on forever. I suck in a quick, deep breath. “I think I should sleep in the big house tonight.”
“What?” Cassie’s eyes fly open, and she no longer leans. She’s actually backing away, pressing herself into the door.
“I think it’s best. For your safety.”
“For my safety?” She puts a hand to her chest in shock and disgust. “I think—for my safety—I should be as far away from you as possible!”
“Cassie, I don’t want to argue with you. It’s for the best. I’m doing it.” I grab the steering wheel to pull back onto the road until she makes a noise that tells me this fight isn’t over.
“You’re not my father!” She folds her arms over her chest and slams them down.
“You might think that would make you listen to me once in a while. Maybe consider that I know what I’m talking about.”
She laughs! “No, I would never consider that!”
“Look, the fact remains that nobody was shooting at me before you got here.”
“I find that hard to believe.” There’s a hint of mischief in her voice that makes me smile. Which is the wrong move because she bristles and shakes her head. “If you’re playing some kind of game with me, I won’t have it. No shenanigans.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Shenanigans? And you call me old.”
“You know there are four beds in the house, right?”
I look at her, confused.
“Four beds, not one?” Her eyebrows go up as if that’s supposed to mean something.
I shrug.
Cassie rolls her eyes a bit too dramatically and says, “The one-bed trope. You get a girl alone somewhere—usually against her will—and?—”
“Hey!”
“Ugh, not like that. Circumstances force you two together, and then what do you know? Only one bed.” She throws her hands up as emphasis. “Honestly, for you to be a writer, you should know this.”
This only makes me laugh harder. “First of all, I don’t write that kind of stuff. And second, if I was gonna try that, wouldn’t it make more sense to convince you to sleep in my one-bed apartment?”
“I’m not sleeping in a garage!”
“Studio,” I mutter under my breath, but not so quiet she can’t hear.
“Do you really think they’ll come to the house after us?” Cassie asks after a moment.
I nod. “They came to the restaurant.”
“If they were after us. Maybe they were just picking up take-out.”
“Right, so I just pretended to be worried about your safety so I could steal a—” My mouth slams shut.
Cassie’s expression changes several times in the course of the next second before settling on conviction. “Fine. But there are ground rules.”
“Of course there are.” I put the car in gear and pull onto the road.
“First off, the bed thing.”
“Noted.”
“Second, the only permissible conversation topic is the case.”
“Cases,” I correct, though my talking right now has the opposite effect than the one I’m going for.
“The Harper case,” she corrects back. “Once that’s solved, I’m out of here.”
I don’t like that, and I really don’t like the sinking feeling in my chest when she says it. I squeeze the steering wheel to keep from telling her how I feel. Instead, I say, “Promise to only talk shop, ma’am.”
“Gross.”
That eases the pain in my chest a bit, and we ride the rest of the way home in comfortable silence.
Once inside, I make her wait in the car while I check the place out. She’s less than pleased but allows me to finish before stomping upstairs. I wait a good ten minutes before figuring she’s in for the night and settle on the couch with Kojak .
“Seriously?”
I look up to find Cassie standing over me with her laptop.
“What?”
“We’ve got work to do. And haven’t you seen every episode like a hundred times?” She plops down beside me.
“Working on it. I think I’m only up to ninety-eight, though.”
She kicks my feet off the coffee table and sets down her laptop. “Well, like I said, work.”
I hold back my smile and turn off the TV. “All right, what do you want to do first?”
“How should I know? You’re the P.I.”
“I prefer lead detective.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“But seriously, what would you do first?” I lean back and watch her fiddle with the computer.
“I’m not a?—”
“Humor me.”
Cassie frowns but goes back to typing almost immediately. “I’d check local jewelry stores to see if anyone has a new fancy necklace for sale. Maybe some cryptic Craigslist ads?”
Robby would be so proud .
“Great! I’m gonna make some calls.” I get up and walk toward the dining room to avoid disturbing her because I’m such a gentleman.
“Nando!” I yell into the phone as soon as my buddy picks up.
“Link.”
“Hey, listen, I’m looking for a necklace. Really old, fancy, super gaudy, but the kind old ladies like, you know. Heard anything?”
“No.” Click.
That was weird.
I try again, this time with my old informant, Little Eddie.
“Man, you know I’m out of the game,” he says after my spiel.
“Yeah, I know. Me, too. But… you heard anything?”
There’s a long pause before, “Maybe. What’s it worth?”
I think about the increased fee and all the bills we have to pay, but there won’t be any fee if we don’t find the thing. “Five hundred.”
Little Eddie takes a second to consider. “There’s a guy, some punk, bragging on message boards about having a necklace.”
“Message boards? You sure he’s young?”
“You know what I mean. Whatever the kids these days call it. But he sounds like a young punk from the way he talks.”
“Yeah, I know the type. Thanks, Eddie. I’ll let you know if it pans out.”
I’m about to hang up when he stops me. “Link!”
“Yeah?”
“I heard you had a hot new girl. What’s that about? I thought you and Darla were starting something.”
My heart races yet again at the memory of my kiss with Cassie. “Sorry, man. You heard wrong this time. Let’s hope your info on the stolen goods is better than your gossip.” I hang up before he can hear the lie in my voice.
I head back toward the living room, dying to tell Cassie about the break in the case. What I’m really dying to do is relive that kiss, this time with her fully willing and eager. But I did agree to the ground rules, so I settle for the good news about the case. Eddie mentioning Cassie in the first place sobers me real quick. If people are talking about her, that means she’ll be even more exposed to danger than before.
“Hey, got a lead on some kid posting about a necklace. How about you fire up that old laptop of yours and—” The rest of the smart remark dies in my throat.
Cassie’s lying halfway across the couch, leaning back with her computer on her lap, fast asleep.
I honestly don’t think I can take how adorable she looks right now. I fight the urge to tuck a strand of fallen hair off her forehead and instead help her lay the rest of the way down and cover her with a blanket.
Then I curl up on the recliner beside the couch and watch her sleep.
Not in a creepy way, I tell myself. For her own safety.
I’m not sure if my theory about the shooting is correct and that maybe they want her, not me. But I’m not taking any chances. If I have to sit up the rest of the night to watch over her, I will.
And, I think, taking out my phone again, if I happen to catch the bad guy all by myself while she’s asleep, even better.