Chapter 11
CHELSEA
Mia was waiting for me at our agreed-upon meeting spot a couple of blocks down from her interview. She was struggling with a franticly barking Lola, who pulled hard on her leash to greet me as I stepped out of my car.
The weather was starting to cool, and downtown was now festooned with Halloween decorations. It was sunny and crisp out.
I laughed as I knelt down to greet Lola, remembering how good I’d felt playing with her in Mia’s car the other day. I was looking forward to this, even though I could already tell Lola was going to be a handful out of a contained space.
Mia pulled Lola back down as she tried to jump on me, giving me a grateful smile. “Chelsea, you’re a lifesaver.”
I stood up and gave my friend a quick hug. “I don’t mind. Lola and I are pals, right Lola?”
In response, Lola jumped up on me again, nearly knocking me over.
“Sorry,” Mia said, pulling on Lola’s leash.
I took it from her. “You look nice.” Really, she looked stressed; frazzled, with her hair falling out of the bun she’d tried to wrangle it into.
My heart squeezed for her. And a flare of anger hit me too, at Mike, who I didn’t even know, but couldn’t believe had foisted this rambunctious puppy on her.
“Hardly,” Mia said. “But you do too, Chels.”
Mia had this look on her face that I knew meant she was being genuine, but had an edge of pity to it too. Her eyes lingered on my bandage.
But I brushed it off, taking the leash from her. “Anything I need to know?”
Mia handed me a cloth shopping bag, opening it to reveal a zip-bag of dog food, several little white poop bags, and a spare leash. At least she came prepared.
“I shouldn’t be more than an hour,” she said, “but just in case.”
Mia had told me her interview was at a jewelry shop that had just opened up at the end of the block and that they need someone right away.
We made plans to meet back here in an hour. “Wish me luck,” she said over her shoulder as she rushed toward the shop.
I wondered just how late she was.
Looking down at Lola, I smiled. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, huh?”
Lola licked her lips and seemed to smile back, and I laughed.
She barked, then panted, her tongue lolling.
In truth, I was more than happy to be here, hanging out with Lola.
When I texted Jude, he’d been disappointed, but then told me he’d probably have even more information about the cipher when we met again in a couple of days, the next time he was available.
I could already see how that would go—Jude going on excitedly about the clues but then asking me about how the scars were doing; how I was doing; what my plans were…
And I didn’t know the answer to those last two.
Meanwhile, Lola didn’t ask anything of me. She also didn’t turn her gaze sideways when she looked at me to avoid staring.
The only human remotely like that seemed to be Seamus Reilly.
I leaned down to ruffle her fur. “You’re the best girl, aren’t you?”
I could swear she nodded her head.
After hooking the bag onto my shoulder, I looked around. I’d thought about getting back in my car and heading down to the other side of the river, where there was a secluded walkway that ran along the Quince, but my eyes went to the street up ahead. Indigo was only a half block away.
Lola was already tugging on the leash, her attention torn between the tufts of manicured brush and the garbage bins on the street.
I’d just walk her here. Indigo intersected the more urban walkway on this side of the river, anyway; lots of people took their dogs for walks there.
Relief washed over me, knowing I had a normal, non-looking-for-Seamus reason to go down that street.
Not that it was weird to want to know where his office was.
I’d be curious about any friend. And that’s what Seamus was—a friend.
Lola pulled hard, dragging me over to a spot on the curb she found deeply interesting for some reason, and nearly pulling me right into a portly man in a suit staring at his phone.
He jumped as I apologized for the dog, and looked like he was going to smile, then blanched as he took in my face.
My stomach tightened, and I called out to Lola. The man quickly strode away.
This was why I’d barely left my apartment. Seamus had given me unreasonable expectations about what people outside my family would think of my looks.
But seeing that man unable to stop himself from staring made my stomach tie into a knot. I pulled Lola around the corner, keeping my chin up. She barked, and when I looked down at her, she cocked her head at me as if to say who cares about that guy anyway?
As we turned onto Indigo, I let out a breath. I’d forgotten how lovely this street was—it was lined with trees, their leaves orange and yellow and fluttering prettily in the wind. I scanned the storefronts—there were a couple of offices, a little boutique, and a new coffee shop I didn’t recognize.
But no Reilly and Sons.
“Ow!” I exclaimed. Lola had pulled hard this time, yanking my arm in my socket. I almost lost hold of the leash. “Lola, chill!”
She cocked her head at me and I laughed. In response, she jumped on me, her paws on my waist, her happy, tongue-hanging-out mouth open.
“Hey!” I said, trying not to keep laughing. I didn’t want to encourage this—but she was so cute.
But when she dropped to the ground, she froze. Her whole body was in a tense line. She was staring at a tree on the next block—another orange-leaved maple.
It was fine. She’d probably seen a leaf flutter to the ground. Still, I took the leash off my wrist, intending to wrap it tightly around my right hand.
But Lola chose that moment to explode into a run, and before I could register what was happening, the leash burned through my fingers and popped free.
“Lola!” I exclaimed as she took off like a shot. It wasn’t a leaf she was after. She was bounding for the flash of gray twisting up the tree trunk. A squirrel.
My heart flew to my throat. The tree was across the street up ahead.
“Lola wait!” I yelled. “Stop her!” I cried to a couple at the end of the block. But instead of reaching for the dog, their eyes were glued on me, the freakish girl running down the street.
I didn’t have time to care. My heart pounded as I sprinted after the dog. The street up ahead was bigger than this one, cars going at speed across Indigo, and Lola was headed straight for it.
I wasn’t going to make it. I needed to go faster. I threw off the heavy bag of dog accouterments, vaguely aware of the sound of a thousand pellets of pressed dog food spilling across the sidewalk.
The people stared, bewildered, as I ran by. “Why didn’t you stop her?!” I screamed.
“Lola, stop!” I screamed. I heard the jingle of bells as shop doors opened behind me.
Someone shouted, telling me to stop.
I knew what an image I made, with my bandaged head, wild hair, and open, screaming mouth. But all I cared about at that moment was Lola. I couldn’t let anything happen to her. It wasn’t just because she wasn’t my dog, but because I needed her to be okay.
Lola leaped into the street without a second thought and I held my breath as I ran, cringing, waiting for the thud. I squeezed my eyes shut, even as I kept running, and when I did, I saw Seamus’s face, lit up in the cab of his truck. An ungodly crunch behind me.
Blackness.
I screamed, coming to a stop, my hands over my face.
But when I opened my eyes, peeking through my fingers, I saw Lola had made it through. She was at the tree now, her paws on the trunk, barking madly.
Relief flooded through me and I laughed wildly. I wanted to cheer.
Then a horn blared. I turned. A car was coming toward me, fast. Screeching as it braked.
I was in the road. Frozen.
The car was going to hit me.
Then I was shoved, hard, from behind. I flew onto the sidewalk, my hands and knees scraping against the asphalt.
But I wasn’t alone. Someone else had fallen with me, and I didn’t have time to see who it was before I heard the voice. “Chelsea!”
Rolling gravel. Only loud.
Seamus’s face appeared over mine, eclipsed by the bright blue sky behind him. “Chelsea! Are you hurt?”
For a moment, I was too stunned to speak. There were people gathering—just legs around us, voices. “Get the dog!” someone called.
More footsteps pattered by. But all I could see was Seamus; all I could feel was his weight on me; his arms cradling my head; the anxiousness in his face, the concern.
“I’m okay,” I whispered. “I’m okay.”
“She’s okay!” said someone in the crowd.
Seamus lowered his head so his hair brushed against my chin. If it wasn’t for the absurdity of lying on the curb with a crowd, I’d want to stay like this.
Then he was up and pulling me up, too.
“Thank you,” he said to someone, who’d handed him the leash to an oblivious Lola, tongue lolling happily.
I blinked, dazed. When I stood, my stomach wobbled. Was I going to be sick?
“Here,” he said. “Come with me.” Seamus led me back across the street, this time with Lola in tow.
He said something to a silver-haired man who passed, but I didn’t catch what.
I was too out of it. Lola was still pulling on the leash, but Seamus firmly tugged her back.
His arm was around my waist, not only protectively, I realized, but because he was holding me up.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice a low murmur.
What else could I do but let go of what I’d been holding onto so tightly?
I leaned into him, my face pressed into the soft linen of his blue button-down.
The clean scent of his shirt—and of him—blocked out everything else.
The wobble in my knees; the confusion in my head.
From this vantage point though, I could see his pants were streaked with dirt.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Sorry? What the hell are you sorry about, Chelsea?” He sounded almost… angry. He was rattled, I think.
“Your clothes…”