Chapter 15
The inside of the house smelled like cigarette smoke, old coffee and damp wood. It was darker than it should have been, the curtains drawn across the windows. Hunting magazines and empty beer bottles cluttered the coffee table.
Uncle Richard motioned for her to sit on the couch while he lowered himself into a recliner across from her, groaning under his breath. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tapped ash into an overflowing tray. An open bottle of whiskey sat in the cup holder.
“You still chew on pen caps when you’re nervous,” he said.
Kara looked down, realizing she still had the pen in her hand from the drive. She tossed it into her purse. “You remember that?”
“I remember more than I care to.” He took a slow swig of whiskey.
Silence stretched between them. Finally, she forced the words out. “ I found Elias in Redwood, beaten half to death, and he said Max. I found a picture of you and Dad, and it said ‘Madmax’ on the back.”
Kara was careful to leave Zoe out of it.
“Of course he did.”
Her pulse kicked harder. “What do you know?”
Her uncle’s eyes shifted toward the window, like he expected someone to be standing out there in the trees. “Things George wouldn't want to be found out.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything.”
“It ain’t supposed to.”
She clenched her jaw. “Elias almost died.”
“Why the hell would I care?” Richard snapped.
That was a shock. Kara had gotten it wrong. She thought he knew something about what had happened. What if Max had hurt Elias?
She shouldn't have come here. This had been a mistake.
Richard stubbed the cigarette out hard enough to crack the ash at the end. “Your daddy had secrets, Kara. Bigger than cheating on taxes or hiding cash from your mama.”
“What kind of secrets?”
The old refrigerator hummed in the kitchen.
“He was into something really ugly,” he said quietly. “Pretty little girls, men with money. Men who didn’t belong in Pine Ridge. George always had a way of getting in over his head. After a while,” he trailed off.
“After a while what?”
“He was surely scared of somebody.”
Kara swallowed hard. She was already in too deep to turn back now.
“Do you know who?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t still be sitting in this shithole waiting to die.”
She stared at him, trying to make sense of everything he just said. “What was under the floorboards?”
Richard looked toward the hallway, toward the back of the house. “I don't know what you’re talking about," he said finally.
“Is it proof of what George did? Or who helped him?” He met her eyes then, and for the first time she saw something close to hostility in them.
Kara’s mouth went dry.
Richard shrugged. She realized then that this was all she was going to get out of him.
“Do you remember what kind of car George’s black car was?” she asked finally.
Kara watched as something flickered in his expression, as though he were searching through an old memory. Richard barely looked at her. “A Chevelle.”
“Do you know where it is now?
He gave another careless shrug.
Out of all the questions she asked, Richard would only give her scraps.
Kara pushed herself to her feet. Richard didn’t try to stop her.
He just leaned back in his chair, cigarette smoke curling around him, watching her with those sharp, unreadable eyes.
When she walked out, Kara was relieved he had let her leave.
Kara sat behind the wheel with the engine running, her hands wrapped around the wheel.
He was dangerous, and maybe he always had been. He was an outsider to the rest of the family, too unpredictable, enough that no one ever knew what he’d do next.
She had come looking for answers, but somehow she was leaving with even more questions. If Richard had really been lying about not knowing what was under those floorboards, then why had he looked so afraid?
That was what she couldn't shake.
The only thing she got from it was that Richard remembered the black car and confirmed it had belonged to George. Now she finally had the make—a Chevelle.
Which meant one of two things.
Either Richard truly did not know where it was anymore. Or he knew exactly where it was and what it was connected to.
What had George been involved in? What was she missing?
Back at the hotel, Kara sat by the window with the lamp off, knees pulled to her chest, staring out at the parking lot below. Rainwater glistened on the pavement under the yellow glint of the streetlights.
Richard had always been the man everyone feared. As a kid, Kara had thought there was nothing on earth that could rattle him. But tonight, when he talked about George and what he had hidden, something had shifted in his face.
He knew more than he was saying.
Her phone buzzed softly in her hand. Isaac. She glanced at his name for a moment before answering.
“Hey.”
“Are you okay?" he asked immediately.
“Not really.”
There was a pause on the line.
“You want to tell me?”
Kara leaned her forehead against the cool glass.
“I think my dad was involved in something bad,” she said quietly. “Worse than I thought.”
Isaac was quiet for a second. “What happened?”
She told him about Richard. About the fear in his eyes and about the way none of it made sense. When she finished, Isaac exhaled slowly.
“Kara… maybe there’s a reason people left all of this in the past.”
“Elias almost died because of it.”
“I know, baby.”
She pressed the phone to her ear. “If somebody hurt Elias over this, then whatever happened back then isn’t over.”
“No,” Isaac said softly. “Probably not.”
She closed her eyes. A part of her wanted him to tell her to stop this and come home. To let it all go.
“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
The problem was, she was not sure she could promise that.
“I’ll finish up here with the house and be on the first flight after,” she said. The words felt hollow the second they left her mouth. Kara already knew she wasn’t leaving Pine Ridge until she found out the truth.
? ? ?
The hotel bar was quiet, lit by amber sconces and the low flicker of a television on mute. Colin sat in the corner booth, nursing a drink.
He stood when he saw her. “I was afraid you wouldn’t
come.”
“I was too. I had a debate with myself that lasted way too long.” She smiled.
For a second, it felt like they were back in time—when they were too wound up to sleep.
A man walking past suddenly stopped when he noticed Colin.
“Colin?”
Colin turned, looking surprised for a second before a smile crossed his face. “Coach! How are you?”
The man smiled and shook his hand. “Doing good. We haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah, I've been busy.”
They stood there talking for a few minutes, catching up as though they had known each other for years. Kara watched the interaction quietly.
Before leaving, the man looked toward Kara. “Sorry to interrupt, sweetheart.”
“That was Bobby. He coaches one of the softball teams around here. I sponsor his boys’ and girls’ softball teams. I’ve been doing it for a while now.”
Kara looked at him, surprised. “You sponsor both?”
“Yeah. It’s not much, but it helps with equipment, uniforms, things like that.”
“That’s actually really nice.”
Colin shrugged, almost uncomfortable with the compliment. “It’s just a way to give back. The town supported me when I was starting. I figure I can do the same for someone else.”
Kara smiled. That didn’t surprise her. Colin had always been generous.
What astonished her was realizing just how deeply he had become part of the community.
She suddenly felt like an outsider.
It was a strange feeling, especially after everything that had happened. She had spent most of her life here, but in many moments felt as though she were standing on the outside looking in.
“I ordered for both of us,” he said. “I hope you’re still into greasy bar wings and questionable sliders.”
“Never stopped,” she said.
Colin glanced outside. “Want to get some air while we wait? They’ve got a fire going on the patio.”
She nodded, grateful for the excuse to step away from the strange intimacy of the bar lighting.
The fire pit cast a warm glow across the small patio.
A few guests milled about with drinks in hand.
Kara and Colin found two Adirondack chairs near the edge, facing the fire.
Kara pulled her legs up beneath her. The flames danced in the reflection of her eyes, and she could feel Colin watching her, the quiet stretching between them.
“I forgot how good it feels out here,” she murmured. “Like breathing again.”
“Yeah.”
The fire crackled and popped, and somewhere from outside someone strummed a guitar too softly to recognize the song.
“I didn’t mean to call you so late,” Colin said eventually.
“But you did.” Kara turned to look at him then, the lines of his face sharper in the firelight, older but still carrying the same kindness he always had.
“I missed this,” he said. “Not just you. But how it feels when you can be honest with another person.”
Kara kept her eyes on the flames, unsure of how to respond.
“I may have had one too many, but there's been something I’ve wanted to get off my chest.”Colin leaned back slightly, the bonfire catching the glint in his eye.
He took a sip of his drink, exhaled slowly.
“I wanted to come and find you. So many times. I was so hurt, and it made me bitter for longer than I understood. I should’ve tried harder. ”
Kara’s thumb moved instinctively to the ring on her finger, turning it slowly.
“I would’ve left it all behind, Kara. Everything. Just to call you mine.”
He stared off as if watching a younger version of himself making a different choice.
“These past few days of being around you again. I realized those feelings, they never really went away.”
He looked back at me then, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re still the best person I know.”
Kara had no words. Her throat thickened as she searched for something, anything to say. He gave her a half-smile, almost sad.
“You don’t have to say anything, Kara,” he said, voice calm now, settled. “ I just wanted to share my feelings before you left.”
His sudden honesty, the look on his face when he told her he had never really gotten over her, the way old feelings seemed to rise for her too, no matter how hard she tried to bury them.
It didn’t help with everything else that was going on.
If anything, it made it worse. Because Kara already had too much pulling at her. Her father’s secrets, Elias, all the memories, the danger she could feel creeping closer.
The last thing she needed was to start wondering what might have happened if she had stayed. She stood slowly, brushing off invisible dust from her jeans. She took a step back, the distance intentional.
“I can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice firm but soft.
If he said anything after that, she didn’t hear it. She didn’t turn around to look at his face either. All of it was exhausting.
Kara’s mind kept circling back to Richard’s words. Something about the conversation hadn’t sat right with her, but she hadn’t been able to put her finger on it.