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“Come now, Todd, she’s no good. Same as her brother. And her drunk father.”
I suck in a shuddering breath.
“What did you say?”
“Your drunk father. Not many people know that he was drunk when he had that accident,” Nate says. “The one that killed him. And I think the townsfolk deserve the truth.”
“Out.”
Nate tilts his head.
“Out,” I repeat. “Get out. Now. You’re officially banned from the Heartstopper. Permanently.”
I never had the balls to do it before. I was too afraid Nate would find some other way to make my life hell, with the help of his powerful father.
“Look who grew a pair,” Nate says. “That’s fine, Marci. You can ban me from your diner, but it’s not going to change anything. Not who you are or what this town needs. And it’s the Davis family.”
“You have about two seconds to get out of here before I call the cops and have you removed.”
My voice doesn’t shake.
Nate laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, and like I’m doing exactly what he wants me to. Acting irrationally in front of the reporter.
“Have a good day folks. Enjoy this diner while you can.”
The words have a hint of promise.
He saunters out of the diner.
Sound resumes slowly after he’s gone.
“That wasinteresting,” Mr. Star says.
“Sorry about the interruption,” I reply. “More coffee?”
I’m shaking.
Riley comes over and places a hand on my back. Todd stands next to his stool, glaring out into the street.
My phone rings behind the counter.
Forty-Four
JESSE
All I’ve ever wanted isto be accepted by this town, but Marci has taught me how to accept myself. And that feeling sticks with me as I enter Longhorn’s.
It’s taken forever for me to find this lead, but after a lot of digging and research, a visit to the Heatstroke Public Library, and browsing through their newspaper archive, I’ve found the person I need. I knock on the wooden bar. The glass folding doors that open onto the beach are closed because Longhorn’s isn’t open to customers this early.
A few servers have arrived and are getting things ready for opening time at noon, loading up music, wiping down the menus, or organizing the tables and chairs around the wooden dance floor.
The space smells of wood and leather, and I like that about Longhorn’s. It doesn’t smell like last night’s regrets.
A bartender pops up from behind the bar. It’s Luke, a hoop earring piercing his right ear.
“Deputy Taylor,” he says, flashing me bright white teeth. He tucks dark hair behind his ear. “You’re here to see Missy, right?”
“Right. She around?”
