His backpack rubbed against his shirt, signaling a shrug.
Desperate to take his mind off the cop, Lily almost mentioned her own night out and had to snap her mouth closed on the idea as she locked the apartment door behind them. She couldn’t believe that had been just tonight, just an hour ago. She’d had so much fun. A handsome man had flirted with her. She’d felt freer than she had in a long time.
And now her past was back, stomping her down again. What if Jones was back too?
No. She wasn’t scared of him, not physically, but she felt terrified all the same. Because what the hell did he want?
“Where were you?” Everett asked, glancing at her purse as she set it on the table.
Jesus, what a time for him to actually start paying attention. “I, uh, went out to dinner.”
He frowned. “By yourself?”
“No.”
His frown deepened. “With who, then?”
“Just . . . just a new customer I ran into. He’s in town for a couple of weeks taking care of some things for his uncle. He was by himself and asked me to . . .”
His frown went crooked. “So you were on a date?”
Lily blanched. “No! We had dinner at Mia’s. That’s all. Then I came home. Obviously, because I’m right here.”
“You’re allowed to date,” he grumbled. “I was just worried about the police.” He glanced at her, eyes narrowed a bit. “Was it about Dad?”
“Dad? Everett, why are you asking that?”
“Because he’s wanted by the police?” he snapped back.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Yes, it had been a stupid question, but Everett seemed more and more on edge these days. “I’m sorry,” she said in the most even voice she could muster. “I already told you the police were here about some missing items. It wasn’t about your dad,” she added, lying through her teeth. “Ev, are you doing okay?”
“Yes,” he said, but that was all.
“Do you . . . do you want to talk about your dad?” God, she hoped he said no.
He did, thank God.
Lily let out a long sigh. He could have been more polite, but the truth was he had a right to be snippy. And he wasn’t even wrong. Detective Mendelson had been here about his dad. Oh, he was using Amber as an excuse, but he’d obviously caught Jones’s scent. Because Jones was here.
No. No, she didn’t know that. He couldn’t be here. If he’d buried a bunch of money in the backyard, that would certainly be a reason to stop by but definitely not a reason to stay. He wouldn’t risk that.
Maybe seeing their old house had made him think more of Everett. Maybe even someone like Jones had regrets, and that’s why he’d phoned only a month after the last call.
She needed to think this through. “I’m going to take a bath. Unless you wanted to watch a movie?”
Everett shook his head, looking sorry now, his head ducked low. She knew this wasn’t easy for him. He probably felt lost, unable to control his life or any of the adults in it. She could understand that because she felt the same.
If she had a number for Jones, she’d call him. Demand to know what he was doing and where he was. But for now, all she could do was sift through the rubble of his destruction and try to interpret the pieces. He’d never given her any answers before, and he definitely wasn’t going to start now.
CHAPTER 16
He’d tried to have fun with Josephine tonight, but anytime he relaxed just a little, his brain would jolt back to anticipation. You need to get home. You need to check your messages. Your dad is waiting.
He kept telling his brain to shut up. Dad hadn’t been on Discord this morning or this afternoon, and Everett didn’t want to get his hopes up, because maybe he’d walked away again.
When he did manage to tamp down his own thoughts, he would eventually relax, and then his brain would escape his control and snap right back to Dad again.
He and Josephine had gone to the library to look up school yearbooks, and they’d found all the girls, even Tiffany Miller. But Everett had barely been able to pay attention. He’d just wanted to be back at his computer.
A soft metal click told him his mom had locked the bathroom door; then the rushing roar of the pipes filled the hallway when she turned on the tap. Everett raced to the desk and dropped into the chair to log on.
He hated himself for doing it. Hated that hope buzzed through his muscles. And he really, really hated that he still believed his dad would show up.
But then . . . he did.
Hey, LM, it’s me.