Chapter 13LinkCassie
Chapter 13
Link
I’m standing over Phin with my boot on his chest. Every muscle in my body aches, but in a good way. Phin’s chest heaves beneath my foot in the same rhythm as mine. I’ve been running fast and strong like in the good ol’ days. It feels great. I knew I had it in me.
Cassie comes running up to hug me with a huge smile on her beautiful face. I told her to stay in the car, but of course, she didn’t listen. I never expected her to. I only wanted a head start so she could come up on this exact scene—me, in my prime, conquering the bad guy who put her in so much danger.
“Oh, Link!” Cassie croons as she throws her arms around me. “You did it! You saved me!”
“I told you I wouldn’t let anything hurt you. Nothing or nobody. I’ve got you.” I lean in for the kiss we’ve both been waiting for.
“Oh, Lincoln,” she moans, but the sound doesn’t match her expression. “Lincoln. Lincoln!”
Something soft crashes into the side of my head, and my arm goes up instinctively to block it. My eyes open to the sight of Cassie towering over me, much like I was standing over Phin. But her look is one of annoyance, not triumph.
“What?” I ask, rubbing my eyes against the blinding light.
“You were snoring! And talking in your sleep.” She shoots me another glare while rubbing the back of her neck. “And I have a crick in my neck from laying like that on the couch all night.”
I sit up and groan back at her. “You sound older than me. I should be the one whining. I slept in a chair!”
“Nobody asked you to,” she snaps.
“There’s this little thing called chivalry. Maybe you heard of it?”
Her response is whispered in the other direction, so I can’t hear it. Then, back to me, she asks, “What were you dreaming about?”
“Nothing.” I hope my morning stubble hides the heat I feel on my neck.
“Didn’t sound like nothing. Sounded rather… interesting.” Cassie’s eyes light up with that mischief again, and she leans closer to interrogate me.
“Pancakes or waffles?” I throw my blanket down on the recliner and flee to the kitchen.
“Ugh, neither.”
A smart remark about her not needing to keep her figure for any big parts gets caught in my throat, and I’m glad I have the wherewithal to keep it to myself. “Eggs?” I ask instead.
That gets me a weak shrug, so I take it.
I haven’t cooked in the big house since I don’t want to think about when, but it’s like second nature. Everything’s where I left it.
Cassie disappears for a few minutes and returns, looking refreshed and cute as a button in her T-shirt and jeans. I bite my tongue to keep from telling her what I think about that, as well. I can see she’s trying to fit in, even if that shirt obviously cost her more than the wagon’s worth.
She sits at the counter in Robby’s old seat, and I wish he could be here to see it. I don’t think either of us ever expected to see Cassie back in this house. It’s bittersweet, though I’m determined to focus more on the sweet.
She reminds me so much of him. The way she commands the space around her. The flecks of gold in her eyes when she looks at me like I’ve done something wrong… whether I have or not. The way she cuts an X in the top of her egg and drags the yolk out before cutting up the rest of it.
Then her knife and fork freeze as she realizes it at the same time I have.
I prepare for the worst, but her expression softens, and she even smiles. “I forgot he used to do that, too.”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning over the counter and picking up a piece of toast. “I used to think it was weird because he never liked his food to touch, but he would let the egg juice run all over the plate.”
“Because sausage and egg go together,” we both say in unison because that’s exactly what Robby always said.
She gets quiet again after that, and I worry I’ve pushed too far. Then, her face lights up, and she says, “Remember when the bank robber kept hitting on him, and he was oblivious? He thought she was just trying to get the keys to his handcuffs.”
“Oh, I remember, all right! He made me take her in once I explained the situation to him. He couldn’t even look at her after that! Priceless.”
“I guess those ace detective skills only get you so far,” she laughs, swiping a corner of her toast across the yellow goo on her plate.
“Well,” I say, dabbing my piece on her plate. “He got better at it, for sure. I remember this one time we were out at Lucky’s trying to get… well, you know. And he spotted this woman from across the room. Even I hadn’t clocked her yet, but Robby had that eye. And there was just something about him the ladies couldn’t resist. All it took was one look, and she was?—”
Cassie’s hand goes up to stop me. “Ewe, I don’t want to think about my dad picking up women.”
I smile, the memory still playing in my head. “No, I get it. But he was a master at?—”
“Lincoln!” Her tone is harsh, but the light flickering in her eyes tells me she’s not too mad.
My phone buzzes in my pocket before I can egg her on more. I check the notification and grin. “Oh, by the way, while you were drooling on my favorite pillow, I was solving our case.”
“I was not drooling!” Her fork drops, and she self-consciously wipes the corners of her mouth with her paper towel. “How did you solve it?” She doesn’t sound as convinced as I think she should be.
I turn the phone for her to read the message. ‘Yeah, I got it, but it’s gonna cost ya.’ Then she adds. “Got what? The necklace? How do you know it’s him?”
“Only one way to find out.” I start typing back to the guy, asking for a picture.
If this is it, we could have that payment in our hands by tonight.
Which means Cassie could be gone by tomorrow.
By the look on her face, I can tell she’s thinking the same thing. Only, she’s having a much different reaction from the sheer dread gripping my chest right now.
It’s for the best , I argue with myself. We did just get shot at, after all. But it doesn’t make the thought of watching her leave any easier.
“Isn’t it kinda early?” She looks over at the clock as she says it.
“The black market never sleeps. It’s probably still yesterday for our guy.” As if on cue, a reply comes back.
‘Hitting the hay for a few. If you’re interested, that’ll give you time to come up with the cash.’
My response is quick. ‘I don’t need time. I’m ready. Just show me the piece.’
The adrenaline coursing through my veins is better than any Columbian coffee. There’s just something about the thrill of the chase that always gets me going. When the guy sends back a blurry picture of a necklace that looks eerily similar to the one we’re after, my fingers can’t move fast enough.
I got him!
Cassie
As I watch Lincoln type furiously back and forth with this jewelry thief, I can’t stop thinking about what he said and how he described my dad as some pick-up artist. Could it be true? Was there a side to my dad I never saw?
Of course, there was , I tell myself.
My mom left when I was so small. And as dedicated as my dad was to me, he still had needs. He was a handsome man. All my friends’ moms and some of my teachers made that abundantly clear. Why wouldn’t he be out at night picking up women?
With Lincoln.
Probably bringing them back here, to my house.
The thought turns my stomach, and I push my plate away. I don’t like it one bit on several levels—one of those being the hardest to admit to myself.
Jealousy.
I have no right to be jealous of Lincoln Suco, and certainly not about how he behaved—or misbehaved—while I was away. He was my dad’s best friend. Of course, they went cruising for chicks. And, of course, they found them.
Lincoln could have any woman he wanted in this town. Where my dad was broad and strong, a real John Wayne type, Lincoln’s charm was— is— something a bit darker. That devilish smirk and careless hair flip give him a more dangerous air.
Yes, he’s protective, but in a way that lets you know he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.
Some women like that sort of thing.
When he hangs up the phone and flashes me that grin, the rush of jealous rage comes flooding back. Some dark part of me wants to stake my claim on this man I have no right to own.
I force myself to stare down at my breakfast.
“We got him!” Lincoln says, setting his phone down and punching the air.
“Mm?” I ask noncommittally, still watching my egg yolk harden on the plate.
“Yep, we gotta go, though. Eat up!”
“Where?” I take one last bite, though my stomach is still in knots from my silly little feelings.
“Galaxy Skate.”
The egg nearly goes down the wrong pipe, and I choke. “I can’t believe that place is still around.”
“Barely,” Lincoln says on his way out the door. He has a pep in his step I haven’t seen before.
He really loves the chase, doesn’t he?
The whole ride to the skating rink, I’m flooded with memories of better times.
Mostly.
I didn’t tell Lincoln, but this is the scene of the crime. Galaxy Skate is where Vinnie cheated on me with Julie McIntyre. I vowed never to set foot back in this place as long as I lived, but here I am, pulling up to the back entrance with Lincoln Suco.
Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of things I swore never to do again. One of these days, maybe I’ll learn to keep my promises to myself.
“So,” Lincoln says, leaning against the wall like one of the cool guys from some teen movie. “Bring back memories?”
“Nope,” I lie. The last thing I need is to bare my soul in the parking lot of one of my old high school haunts. Especially not the memories I’m reliving, and double, especially not to Lincoln. “When’s he getting here? And what does he look like?”
“Dunno,” Lincoln says, checking his phone for the hundredth time.
After another twenty minutes, it’s clear he’s not coming. “You think he got spooked?”
“Obviously,” Lincoln says with a wave in my direction.
“What do you mean, ‘obviously?’”
“I shoulda had you stay in the car. He must’ve clocked you from a mile away.” Lincoln pushes himself off the wall like he’s about to leave.
“What are you talking about? I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt, just like you.”
He has the nerve to laugh. “Just like me? How much did those pre-ripped designer jeans cost?”
I shrug, though I know the answer. There’s no way I’ll admit how much I spent on these jeans, especially not to him.
“Exactly,” he says as if I gave him a number. “You might as well have C-O-P tattooed on your forehead.”
“When I was preparing for The Force , we did a three-week stint at a sheriff’s office. I shadowed two undercover detectives and learned how to blend in perfectly.” A memory flashes through my mind of a particular evening when Marissa had to come and get me from a crime scene because things had gotten too intense. She wasn’t happy about it at all; it was something about messing up a date.
Could that be why she’s mad at me? Because of something totally not under my control? Is that all it takes to turn a whole town against you?
I take a breath, getting ready to tell Lincoln about the memory, but he’s laughing too hard to listen. Instead, he slaps his hand on his leg and interrupts. “That’s so meta. Going undercover as an undercover cop. And yet…” Again, he waves at my outfit. “You stick out like a sore thumb.”
He reaches over, untucks my shirt, and starts scrunching up the hem to make it look messy. I slap his hand away.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Sorry,” he says, holding his hands up like he’s under arrest. “Just tryin’ to save this drop if it’s not too late.”
“Maybe he recognized you and ran away,” I say, swatting at his hands again. “Your bad reputation precedes you.”
“You know it, baby,” he says with a wink.
“You are disgusting. Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just once, you should act like an adult? You’re in a back alley, waiting for some criminal to bring you stolen goods, and you still can’t control yourself for one minute?”
I turn to storm off when he calls from behind me. “It’s been like forty-five minutes. Nobody can act like an adult for that long.”
I spin around and poke my finger into his chest. “Yes, Lincoln, they can.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Fun? This isn’t supposed to be fun ! This is a job—a very serious one. Clients and bill collectors are counting on us to solve this issue as soon as possible. This, right here, is why I had to come back here and clean up your mess.”
“Hey, nobody forced you to?—”
“You! You forced me to do so with your incompetence!”
I turn around to walk off, not even looking at the car. He can ride back alone for all I care. I’ll figure out how to find this jewelry thief myself and get Mrs. Harper her grandmother’s necklace back.
Lincoln grabs my arm hard and spins me around.
I yank even harder, but I can’t get loose. “Let go of me!”
“No,” he says in an authoritative tone I’ve never heard from him before. And I’m so mad at myself for how it makes me melt.
We stare at each other for what feels like forever, both breathing hard, neither daring to break first. And just when I think I’ve won, when I feel him pull me closer, he jerks me forward and steps in front of me. He presses me against the wall and covers my whole body with his.
And that’s when I hear the tires crunching the gravel, too close to escape.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” a sinister voice says from the car.
Lincoln squeezes my arm and whispers, “Don’t move.” Then, loud enough for the man in the car to hear, he says, “Hello, Phineas.”