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31
LIAM
Pressing my phone to my ear, I take one of the last stacks of books from the back of Lucy’s former shop and put them in a box.
“You’re sure the detective said he couldn’t find any traces of Dan and the trespasser knowing each other?” I spit out, annoyed as hell.
Patrick’s voice comes across the other end. “No, he couldn’t find any evidence of them together except as residents who live within the Hope Crest town limits.”
“So we’re back to square fucking one.” My molars grind together as I tape up the box. “Why the fuck is this taking so long?”
“I mean, they caught the guy. To the cops, that’s a win.” Patrick tries to placate me.
“But we need to know why. Because this doesn’t feel over until we have a reason.”
“Maybe it was just random? Maybe there wasn’t a motive and he’s just an idiot who likes doing reckless things. That could just be it, Liam.” My brother sounds distracted on the other end.
I hear a bit of wailing and realize Rebecca is crying. “Do you have to go?”
“Nah, she’s just teething. I’m going to grab her this little ice pack toy she loves.” More rustling, but he keeps talking to me. “Like I said, I just don’t know that we’ll get any answers. He’ll pay for the trespassing, it’ll be on his record. But since that night, no break-ins, none of the fields have been tampered with.”
“And you’d have been okay with just chalking it up to that when it came to Cassandra and what went down with her?” My voice has an edge because these are the things I love most on the line here.
“That was a completely different situation and you know it. The cops in town have really done a one-eighty since everything went down with Cass, and they’ve done everything to look into this. They can’t connect him to Dan.”
“And I still feel like everything I love is in jeopardy,” I counter.
Patrick sighs. “I know that, Liam. I’m not saying you’re wrong to be cautious, but there is nothing else we can do right now.”
More crying comes from his end, and I know my brother is stressed out with other things in his life right now. Keeping him on the phone and lamenting to him about my fears is only putting more on his shoulders.
“Okay. Go, take care of my niece. Give her a kiss from me.” Resigned, I let him hang up.
While my family is on my side with this, it’s hard when they’re all caught up in their own lives. They’re more easily accepting of what the police are telling us because they don’t feel as connected as I do to the land. After all, it’s been my lifeblood for years. Before I had this new, burgeoning family to take care of.
Even with the rest of my world seemingly falling into place, I can’t shake the feeling that something is looming over my head waiting to decimate it all.
I may take out some of my anger on the books and tape, slamming them into boxes as I violently close them shut. It does nothing to stave off the anger I feel, and I hate leaving things unsettled. Part of my personality craves completion, a task well done, a loop closed. This situation feels disjointed and suspect, and I hate that it leaves me feeling bereft in some way.
The bell over the door clangs, and I turn to see Gabrielle walk in. A yellow sundress floats around her curves, the outline of her belly on display as my mouth waters for her. Fuck me, but this woman couldn’t get any more gorgeous, and then I had to go and get her pregnant. Keeping my hands off her provides a full-time job.
“Hey.” She grins as she nears me, and my entire soul seems to calm when she’s within reaching distance.
For a split second, as my mouth captures hers, I forget about all the turmoil in our life right now. I forget I need to be on edge and in protection mode every second.
“How’s baby boy doing today?” I pull back but keep her in my arms.
Lately, she’s been having some nausea again, which the doctor confirmed is completely normal, but I’ve given her strict instructions to relax other than necessary work like helping out at the theater. I’ve largely taken over boxing up the remainder of the bookshop, which is almost done, thanks to her anyway. Today is our final day in here, and it feels bittersweet.
“He’s doing fine after I scarfed down a pistachio milkshake. Probably the grossest thing I never thought I’d say, but it’s like his lifeblood, so if it makes him happy, I’ll continue drinking them.”
I cringe. “Weirdest pregnancy craving ever?”
She shakes her head. “Your nonna told me, when I stopped by the restaurant yesterday, that she used to crave sardines at midnight when pregnant with your mom. I think that might be grosser.”
“Definitely,” I agree, not wanting to let her go but knowing I need to finish packing up.
“How much have you gotten done?” she asks, setting her bag down.
