Thornbird

Chapter Fifteen It’s Complicated

fifteen

It’s Complicated

I know who you are, Gabrielle Thorn.

I spend the rest of the night Googling, trying to figure out who sent those messages. I look up the number, but that yields no results. It probably came from an app.

But how could anyone know who I am? We—my aunt and uncle and I—have been so careful. Who found out? How?

I nearly drive myself mad ruminating on the texts. It was crazy to think it was my father. He’s on death row. I doubt he’d be able to get his hands on a phone. Unless he had someone else text me?

No. The odds are so astronomical, it’s a waste of time to even entertain it. It’s probably someone from school, but who?

Whoever sent those messages knew exactly what to say to unnerve me. The words are burned in my mind, blinking and flashing like a neon sign.

After breakfast, I wait until Jasmine and Connor go to get their school things, then pull Maggie aside.

I wasn’t sure if I should say something about the messages, but I keep thinking about what she said when I first got here.

How the ten-year anniversary has made all those crime sleuths even more rabid than usual.

In the mudroom, I tell my aunt about the texts as her brows dip in concern.

“Let me see them,” she orders.

I hang my head in remorse. “I deleted them before I blocked the number. It wasn’t a real phone number, though,” I quickly add. “It came from an app.”

Maggie purses her mouth in thought. “All right. Well. Without those messages, there isn’t much we can do.

I would’ve suggested showing them to the sheriff, but I doubt he’ll be much help.

And that old coot has a big mouth when he’s a few pints deep at the bar.

I’d rather not tell him who you are unless we absolutely must.”

“How did anyone find out?” I fret, gnawing on my lower lip. “Do you think…my father sent the messages?”

She recoils before giving a decisive head shake. “No. That’s impossible, honey. It’s probably a bluff anyway. Someone trying to get you to admit to something. You’re new to town, a similar age as Gabriel’s daughter. Your uncle and I assumed a few people might ask questions once you got here.”

Like Zed, I remember. He asked how old I was the first time we met and brought up Thorn’s daughter. And everyone knows Zed is constantly sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

A bluff. Relief flutters through me. Maybe she’s right and that’s all this is.

“So we do nothing?” I ask.

“For now. But if you get any more messages, show them to me immediately.”

“I will,” I promise.

Maggie squeezes my shoulder. “It’ll be all right, Ryan. We’ll keep an eye on it.”

Despite her reassurances, I can barely concentrate in any of my classes, my gaze slipping out the window, my mind racing.

Even Everett’s playful flirting in government can’t pull me out of my mental tailspin.

I’m sure that pleases Sofia immensely. When he finally gives up on trying to get a response out of me, I notice her smiling with satisfaction.

During lunch, I corner Jasmine before she can join her friends across the cafeteria. “Hey,” I start, keeping my voice low. “Have you told anyone that you’re looking for the bodies?”

“No. I’m not stupid.”

I give her a long stare. “No one? Not even Nikki or Gillian?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, I swear I haven’t told a soul. And why do you suddenly care?”

I scramble for a suitable lie. “I just think the fewer people looking, the greater our chance of getting that reward.”

“Obvs. That’s why it stays between you, me, and Con. It’s a family mission.”

At that, she saunters toward her usual table. I watch her go, not entirely sold. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Jasmine, it’s that she’s incapable of keeping a secret for long. I know far too many personal details about people at school that I have no business knowing.

If she did tell someone, does that mean one of Jasmine’s friends is the texter? Nikki, maybe? I can see Nikki sending creepy texts to someone.

Maybe Connor is the one who blabbed, and my texter is Kabir or one of his other football friends.

Or maybe it’s nobody from Crockett. Maybe it’s someone entirely different.

Someone who’s been watching us, keeping tabs, even hacking into our messages.

The thought makes me shiver. Whoever it is, they’re close enough to know not only what Jasmine has been up to, but that I’m Gabriel Thorn’s daughter.

And if they truly know who I am, what’s stopping them from telling the whole town? Why haven’t they yet?

By the time the last bell rings, I’m desperate for a distraction from my paranoid thoughts.

Luckily I’m provided with the perfect reprieve: dogs.

Today is my first shift at the Starling animal rescue.

I’m a little nervous as the school bus drops me at the corner of town and I make my way toward the shelter.

The building is small but functional, with rows of kennels lining the back room, a second space used for grooming and playtime, and a cozy office up front. As JP gives me the short tour, the dogs bark eagerly, tails wagging and paws scratching at the metal doors.

“I was hoping you could help me with one of the newer dogs,” JP tells me. “He’s a bit skittish, but I think you’ll be great with him.”

“I’ll do my best.”

We approach a small, wiry dog who’s pacing his kennel. His fur is patchy in places and his eyes are wide with fear.

JP kneels in front of the cage, speaking in a low, calm voice. “This is Rusty. He’s been through a lot, so we’re taking it slow.”

We work with Rusty for the next hour. JP shows me how to approach him—gentle movements, soft words.

Rusty is nervous at first, but JP’s patience is unshakable.

It takes nearly thirty minutes just to get the terrier comfortable enough to come out of the kennel, but JP never raises his voice or rushes the dog.

He keeps speaking to him like there’s all the time in the world.

“You’re good with him,” JP says, glancing at me as Rusty sniffs cautiously at my hand. “It’s all about trust, you know?”

I smile, petting Rusty’s head when he finally lets me. “Yeah, I can see that. You’re good at this too.”

He chuckles. “Years of practice.”

We make it all the way out to the front desk, Rusty getting braver and braver as he explores his surroundings. But then the door to the shelter jingles, and all our progress is lost. A startled Rusty darts toward the kennels as Nikki saunters in.

“Hi,” she says in a bored tone.

JP’s face lights up. “Hey, kid! What brings you here?”

She shrugs. “Just thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you. Let me just go grab Rusty. Be right back.”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, rounding the desk and plopping into the chair. She swivels around in it a few times.

I get the feeling she’s not here to say hi, but I don’t think much of it until JP disappears into the back room. I watch in disbelief as she opens the desk drawer, slips her hand into the petty-cash box, and pulls out a few crumpled bills before tucking them into her bra.

My stomach twists. She doesn’t even notice me watching her. Smoothing the front of her shirt, she hops out of the chair and heads for the door, where she leans casually against the doorframe as if nothing happened.

When her dad returns with Rusty on a short leash, Nikki lies right to his face. “Jazzy just called. She wants to meet at Starbucks. I’ll see you at home,” she chirps, barely glancing at JP before flouncing out the door.

I’m left standing there, heart pounding, unsure what to do. Should I say something? I want to, but I don’t know if it’s any of my business. So I vacillate for the rest of my shift, battling the urge to snitch on Nikki while at the same time ordering myself to mind my own business.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. Nope. I can’t let this go.

“Um. Mr. James…”

“JP,” he reminds me.

“JP. I, uh, I need to tell you something.”

Concern flickers in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

I hesitate, then bite the bullet and blurt it out. “Nikki stole money from petty cash while you were out of the room.”

There’s a beat of silence.

And then he lets out a long, tired sigh. “Yeah,” he says. “I figured.”

I stare at him in shock. “You knew?”

“She’s been doing that for a while now. Not just here, either. She was picked up for shoplifting in Nashville this summer,” he admits, his features strained. “Got off with a slap on the wrist after I spoke to the store manager.”

“Why don’t you stop her?” It doesn’t make sense. When it comes to Nikki, it’s like he lets her get away with everything.

“It’s complicated, Ryan. She hasn’t had an easy life, you know? So I try to have empathy whenever I can. I know I’ve spoiled her, but, well, she’s been through a lot. Losing her mom, growing up without much stability.”

“Doesn’t letting her off the hook make it worse?”

He gently scratches behind Rusty’s ear. “Maybe. But if taking a few bucks from me helps her feel in control of something in her life, I’d rather let it go. It’s not about the money, anyway.”

I don’t know what to say. I understand wanting to protect your child, but watching Nikki steal from her own father feels wrong. “Won’t she just keep doing it?”

He shrugs. “Probably. But I’m hoping one day she’ll grow out of it. She’s angry, and I get that. I’ve made mistakes as a dad, and this is just part of how she’s dealing with it.”

Like he said, it’s clearly complicated, but I can’t shake the feeling that Nikki is headed down a dangerous path. Still, JP doesn’t seem like he’s ready to confront that yet.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

“Don’t be. You did the right thing, telling me. And you did a great job today.” He winks. “The dogs thank you profusely.”

I nod, but my mind is still spinning. I can’t dwell on it because the door suddenly swings open and now it’s Everett who strides in.

I smile despite myself. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

Everett beams at me. “Rescuing you, obviously.”

“You’re too late. My shift’s over.”

“Perfect,” he says without even blinking. “Then I’m just in time to give you a ride home.”

I should say no. This entire day has had me on edge, courtesy of my mysterious texter. It would be foolish to get closer to Everett when everything about me could unravel with one word.

“Hi, bud,” JP greets his son. “How was practice?”

“Good. Coach is riding us hard, though. We’ve got that rivalry game this week.”

“You’ll win,” JP says confidently.

“Hope so.” Everett tugs me toward him. “Anyway, I’m stealing your employee. Later, bro.”

Snickering, his dad holds up his hand. “Only if you take this bag of dog food home. One second.”

JP ducks into the back again, returning with a massive bag of kibble that he piles into Everett’s arms. Everett heaves the bag over one shoulder like it weighs no more than a feather.

“What are we doing for dinner?” he asks JP.

“I don’t care. You’re human. You can feed yourself.”

I’m laughing as we head outside. “I think your dad loves dogs more than people.”

He laughs too, but there’s a sharpness to it. “Oh, for sure.”

“Has it always been that way?”

“No, not always. I think the shelter was his way of coping after losing Mom. He sort of threw himself into it.” Everett pauses. “I guess he figured dogs would never leave him. People do.”

My heart clenches. “That’s really sad.”

“It’s all good. He’s happy. The dogs are happy.”

Everett tosses the bag into the bed of the truck, then opens the passenger door for me. The drive home is filled with his random stories and jokes, him trying to get me to laugh in that way of his. It’s really nice, how easy everything is with him.

Ten minutes later, he stops in the Shipley driveway, turning to me with a boyish smile. “Here you go. Home, safe and sound.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

He leans in, his hand slipping up to rest lightly on my cheek.

For a second, I hold my breath, unsure if I want to pull away or just let it happen.

I choose the latter, letting his lips meet mine.

The kiss is warm and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world.

A slow heat fills my chest as I melt into him.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes hold a confident glint. “Go out with me again.”

I hesitate, every alarm in my head screaming bad idea. But my lips have other ideas, forming the word “Okay.”