Pulling onto Route 6, Rae merged with the afternoon traffic. “You’ll have your wheels back first thing tomorrow,” she assured him.
“You don’t mind driving me in?”
“It’s on my way to work.”
Quinn studied his hands. He began picking at a ragged nail. “How much were the tires?” He’d stayed with Kameko while Rae went inside.
“Not much. Rudy gave me a discount.” A lie. She’d purchased expensive, all-weather tires. Although Quinn was responsible, he was still a young driver. She’d sleep better knowing he was safe on Geauga County’s icy roads. “It’s not a big deal. Stop worrying about it.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“Aren’t you planning on culinary school someday? Save your money.”
“Then let me do something in trade.”
“Fine. Work it out with my dad. But fair warning. His to-do list is a mile long.”
Kameko, bored, twitched in the car seat. “Can we play tag?” She bobbed the wand near Quinn’s ear.
From over his shoulder, he grinned. “When we get to the house? I guess.” The grin fading, he cleared his throat. “I still have to make a stop. It’s important.”
Unease centered in Rae. After the conversation with Kameko regarding Lark and heaven, her emotions were too close to the surface—barely skin-deep. She wasn’t prepared for new surprises. The day was unusual enough. If not for babysitting duty, she’d gladly don boots once she returned home to hike the farm until her emotions settled.
“Are we picking up more of your belongings?” She reminded herself that the Galeckis were still vacationing in Atlanta. Whatever else today offered, there’d be no confrontation.
“I cleared out my stuff last weekend, but I do need to stop on my parents’ street.” Quinn rubbed his lips together. He looked embarrassed, although she couldn’t imagine why. “It’ll only take five minutes.”
Accepting the cryptic response, Rae followed his directions to a residential area northeast of Chardon Square—a poorer area of town, with the houses standing in tight rows. Before the garage of a cramped white dwelling, a garbage can was overturned. The contents spilled across the snow. Farther down, a black shutter hung askew on a faded-blue house.
Curiosity edged past her unease. Which place belonged to Mik and Penny? She slowed the car to a crawl.
Her knowledge of the Galeckis’ current life was restricted to rumors about Mik’s testy behavior at Marks Auto and the drunken fights Penny waged with other women in local bars. Penny was reputed to have a work history involving multiple firings. She never held a job for long. Before their son entered Rae’s life, her interest in the couple’s personal life had been nonexistent. Quinn’s eyes, pinned on the road, gave no indication which dwelling was his childhood home.
At his feet, his book bag groaned with textbooks. Hoisting it onto his lap, he rummaged around inside. The crinkling of plastic, and he stuffed a bag into his parka. A stealth move, and tension pinged through Rae. What was in the bag? Was the kid dealing drugs?
Immediately she discarded the thought.
Each morning, Quinn made the bed in her guest room with military precision. He cleaned every dish he used—and most of Connor’s too. At bedtime, he brushed his teeth for a good two minutes, then wiped down the bathroom sink. Last night, he found the glass cleaner in the cupboard below and polished the mirror.
Stalking his movements wasn’t admirable, but he was bunking at her place.
Halfway down the street, he instructed her to pull over.
Cold air rushed in when Quinn opened his door. “Be right back.” His eyes lifting, he began stepping out. “Shit.” He pulled his foot back inside.
With her wand, Kameko bonked him on the head. “Bad word!”
“Sorry.”
The wind ruffling his hair, he shut the door. Frowning, he peered through the windshield. He sighed. Rubbed his hands down his jeans and sighed again.
While he worked out the mystery dilemma, Rae assessed his jeans. Tears were forming in the worn fabric at his knees. He needed sturdier jeans to carry him through the rest of winter. His parka, the cuffs tattered and the collar fraying, had also seen better days. At least he’d added a fresh strip of duct tape to his left boot to keep the sole in place.
She was pondering online shopping when he said, “I’ll go around back. That’s the best move. You know, because he’s home. He won’t notice if I sneak around the side of the garage.” Wrapping up the puzzling monologue, he gave her a look of apology. “Do you mind parking near the end of the street? We can’t stay here. If he sees us, we’re toast.”