“Get out,” she said on a whisper.
“I’m not done with you,” I warned.
She slammed her palm down on the table. “Get. Out. Now.”
I sat for a beat and studied her. “I catch wind of you hounding my family for information or interfering with an official investigation, I won’t hesitate to throw your ass behind bars.”
She said nothing but stared at me stonily until I rose.
“I mean it, Lina.”
“Go home, Nash. Leave me alone.”
I went, but only because looking at her made my chest hurt. Like she’d managed to do more damage than the two bullets I’d taken.
When I opened the door, Piper wasn’t waiting for me. She was under the table, looking at me like it was all my fault somehow.
TWENTY-TWO
SOCCER GAME SHOWDOWN
Lina
Naomi: Emergency meeting of the wedding brain trust. Can everyone make it to Waylay’s soccer game tomorrow morning?
Stef: Why can’t she play an evening sport? These early-morning Saturdays are messing with my Friday night social life.
Naomi: What social life? You still haven’t asked Jer out yet. chicken emoji
Stef: Nobody likes a bridezilla, Witty.
Sloane: I can make it as long as we’re hiding Bloody Marys in our cups.
Me: Sorry guys. I can’t make it.
Naomi: frowny face Lina, you were too busy for lunch and you backed out of bridesmaid dress shopping this week. I’m afraid I have to enforce my bridal reign and insist that you join us…unless you really are doing something more important than discussing wedding party attire and traditional wedding cake versus a pastry table. Then I totally understand and you should forget that I tried to make any demands on you.
Stef: Forgive Witty. She’s been honored with a lifetime achievement award in people-pleasing.
Sloane: Can confirm that Lina did not have plans for Saturday morning as of last night when we picked up our Dino’s to-go orders at the same time.
Naomi: It’s official. Lina’s avoiding us.
Stef: Let’s kidnap her and find out why. Wait. Too soon for kidnapping jokes?
Me: Oh, THIS Saturday. I thought you meant some other Saturday. Who else is going?
Sloane: I second this question. I’m tired of showing up to places and running into Tall Dark and Pissy.
Stef: She means Sinful Suit Daddy.
Naomi: My parents, Liza J, and Knox will all be there. No other family members or friends are on the agenda.
Me: I guess I can make it. As long as you weren’t kidding about the Bloody Marys.
“These leaves,” my dad’s voice boomed through the speakers of my SUV. “Never seen so many colors before. You should fly up for the weekend and check ’em out.”
I made the turn into the gravel parking lot of the soccer fields and inched my way through throngs of players and families.
“Fall is in full swing here too,” I told him. “You’ll never guess what I’m doing right now.”
“Winning an award at work? No, wait. Taking ballroom dance lessons? Oh! I know, eating sushi while booking a plane ticket home to surprise me for my birthday?”
I winced. “Good guesses, but no. I’m going to a kid’s soccer game.”
“No kidding?”
“Bet you don’t miss those early Saturday mornings in the cold,” I said lightly. I watched a family of five, bundled up in layers of clothing, jog toward the fields.
Dad had always loved soccer. He’d lobbied a local sports bar in our neighborhood to air UK football matches long before David Beckham had set one golden boot in America. His love of the game was the reason I’d started playing as a kid. We’d drilled for hours in the backyard. He’d known every one of my teammates by name and was the team dad who made sure everyone got home safely from games and practices.
After the “incident,” we’d all been affected in different ways.
Mom fluttered around me convinced I was one heartbeat away from death.
My return to “normal” had taken long enough I no longer had a place to belong to. So I’d focused all my energy on catching up academically with the aim of starting over someplace new.
As for my dad, I’d never seen him watch another soccer game.
“Apparently social occasions here are often paired with children’s sporting events. My friend Knox asked me to be in his wedding, and I’m meeting with the bride to talk cake on the sidelines.”
“A wedding? How long are you planning to stay there?”
“I’m not sure. This project work has me on is really dragging out.”
“Well, if you can’t come to us, we can always come to you.”
“Everything is up in the air at the moment, but I might be heading home soon. I’ll let you know.”
“You doing okay? You sound a little down.”
“I’m fine,” I told him, unwilling to do a deep dive into why I’d spent the last several days swinging back and forth between mad and sad. “I’ve got to get going. It looks like the game’s about to start.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Oh, and one more thing. Your mom would kill me if I didn’t ask. Everything good with the ticker?”
“Everything is fine,” I said, forcing my exasperation into the box with my mad and sad.
Just a few emotional dings from a wounded, pissed-off officer of the law.
“I love you, Dad.”
“Love you too, Leens.”
I disconnected the call and slumped back on my heated seat. I’d preemptively called him to get it out of the way for the day. It was a constant balancing act of assuring my parents that I was alive and capable of taking care of myself while still giving myself the actual freedom to be an independent adult.
Having overly loving parents wasn’t something that I could take for granted, but it also wasn’t something I was thrilled about.
Reluctantly, I got out of the car and headed in the direction of the field, scanning the crowd for the man I hoped I’d never see again.
I’d successfully avoided Nash since he’d threatened to arrest me. My research team was running down Hugo’s known associates and keeping an eye on vintage car auctions. I was still crossing properties off my list. In my downtime, I managed to survive another workout with Mrs. Tweedy and consulted on two other investigations at work.
Something needed to break and it needed to break soon or else I was going to have to do something I’d never done before: quit.
I found Naomi and Sloane in folding camp chairs under blankets on the sideline.
“There she is,” Naomi said when I approached. She was holding a huge coffee in one hand and an innocuous-looking tumbler in the other. “We brought you a chair.”
“And alcohol,” Sloane said, holding up a short red tumbler for me.
“Thanks.” I took the offered drink and the chair. “Where’s Stef?”
“He’s getting, and I quote, ‘all the coffee in the world.’ He had a conference call with investors in Hong Kong about who knows what,” Naomi said.
“What does Stef do for a living?” I asked, studying the crowd. Naomi’s dad and Knox stood next to Wraith, a scary biker dude and dubious choice for a girls’ soccer coach. The only tattoos visible on the silver fox today were poking out of the neck of his leather jacket. He stood on the sidelines, legs braced apart like he was ready to battle it out with a rival motorcycle club.