He still hadn’t looked at her. His eyes stayed focused straight ahead. Tongue darting out between his lips. His sausage fingers tickled along her knee, dragging her skirt along with them. The weight of his hand on her leg was an anvil.
Leigh gasped for breath. Her head swam as she felt herself spinning back into the present. Her heart was beating so hard in her throat that she pressed her hand to her chest to make sure it hadn’t dislodged itself. Her skin was clammy. She could still hear Buddy’s last words as she got out of the car—
Let’s keep this between you and me how about that here’s some extra cash for tonight but promise me you won’t tell I don’t want your mama getting mad at you and punishing you so I can’t ever see you again.
Leigh had told her mother about Buddy’s tickling fingers on her knee the second she’d walked through the door.
Jesus Christ Harleigh you’re not a helpless baby just slap away his hand and tell him to fuck off when he tries it again.
Of course Buddy had tried it again. But her mother had been right. Leigh had slapped away his hand and screamed at him to fuck off and that was the end of it. Damn dolly okay okay I get it no big deal but watch it tiger you’re gonna give some poor fella a run for his money someday.
Afterward, Leigh had forgotten about the incident the way you forget about things that are too awful to remember, like the male teacher who kept talking about how Leigh’s breasts were developing so fast or the old man at the grocery store who told her she was turning into a real woman. Three years later, when Leigh had saved up enough to buy a car so she could drive to a better job at the mall, she had passed on the babysitting gig to a grateful Callie.
The light turned green. Leigh’s foot moved to the accelerator. Tears were streaming down her face. She started to wipe them away, but fucking Covid stopped her. She pulled a tissue from the pack and carefully dabbed underneath her eyes. Another sharp breath filled her lungs. She held on to the air until it hurt, then shushed it out between her teeth.
Leigh had never told Callie about what had happened to her in the Corvette. She had never warned her baby sister to slap Buddy’s hand away. She had never told Buddy to leave Callie the fuck alone. She hadn’t warned Linda or anyone else because Leigh had pushed the awful memory so far down that by the time Buddy’s murder bubbled it all up, all she could do was drown in her own guilt.
Her mouth opened for another breath. She felt disoriented again. Leigh looked around, trying to get her bearings. The Audi knew where it was going before she did. Left turn, coast a few yards, right turn into the strip-mall parking lot.
Sergeant Nick Wexler’s squad car was backed into its usual lunchtime spot between a frame shop and a Jewish deli. The lot was only half-full. A distanced line led to the deli’s front door for take-out.
Leigh took her time before getting out of the car. She freshened her make-up. Chewed a couple of breath mints. She put on her Fuck Me Red lipstick. Her notebook and a pen were retrieved from the pile. She turned past the notes on Andrew’s case and found a clean page. She wrote along the bottom of the paper. The Valium was doing the trick. Her hands had stopped shaking. She could no longer feel her own heartbeat.
She tore off the bottom part of the page, folded it into a tight square, then tucked it into her bra strap.
Nick was already watching her when she got out of the Audi. Leigh exaggerated the sway of her hips. Flexed her calves with every step. The walk bought her time to carousel through her personalities. Not vulnerable like she was with Walter. Not icy cold the way she’d been with Reggie Paltz. With Nick Wexler, Leigh was the kind of woman who could flirt with an Atlanta police sergeant while he was writing her up for speeding and end up fucking his face off three hours later.
Nick wiped his mouth with his fingers as she got closer. Leigh smiled, but the corners of her lips curled up too much. That was the Valium. It made her a grinning idiot. She felt Nick’s eyes track her as she walked around the front of his squad car.
The windows were down.
Nick said, “Damn, Counselor. Where you been hiding yourself?”
She waved at the detritus he kept on the passenger seat. “Move your shit out of my way.”
Nick flipped up the dash-mounted laptop and used his arm to sweep everything else onto the floor. Leigh’s hand missed the door handle on the first try. Her vision clouded. She blinked the fog away, smiling at Nick as she pulled open the door. His navy Atlanta Police Department uniform was wrinkled from the heat. As sweaty as he smelled, Nick was an unabashedly sexy man. Bright white teeth. Thick, black hair. Deep blue eyes. Ropey strong arms.