by Iris Morland
She finally turned to look at him, and her gaze pierced straight through, an arrow to his heart. “You can’t keep giving me these mixed signals. One second you’re kissing me, the next you’re telling me it’s all a mistake.”
“Graciela…”
“Which is it? Is it what you want, or is it a mistake?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Both? Neither? I don’t know anymore.”
She scoffed. “You know what, Jaime? Call me when you figure it out—if you ever figure it out. Because I’m not waiting around until you do.”
Jaime was about to let her go, but some voice inside him refused to let her end things like this. Her grabbed her wrist, whirling her around toward him.
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” he said in a low voice. “Do you really think I can jeopardize everything—my parents, my career, my freedom!—for this? If it were that simple, I could give you an answer!”
“Yes, it is that simple! Us being together isn’t going to get you charged with that crime. Us being together isn’t going to keep your parents from becoming citizens.”
He wanted to shake her. He wanted to yell and shout to the sky and he wanted to kiss her until she melted against him. “It’s all tied together. All of this. All of us. Would us being together keep my parents from becoming citizens? No, it wouldn’t. But I’m already under a microscope with this investigation. Every move I make is being watched. If people saw that I was dating my boss’s younger sister, the sweet, innocent Grace Danvers? It wouldn’t end well.”
Grace just stared at him, her eyes widening. She didn’t try to pull away, though. He was afraid that he’d scared her. He was about to let her go, but she just placed her hands on his chest, feeling it pound beneath her palms.
They didn’t say anything, just breathed together. The sun was lowering below the horizon, and Jaime could feel the chill increase. But out here, with Grace, none of that mattered. He didn’t want it to matter for once in his life.
“I get what you’re saying,” she finally said. “I hear you. It breaks my heart, though.” Her voice seemed choked. “I wish it could be different.”
He let go of her wrists and enfolded her into a hug, placing his chin on top of her head. “Me too.”
They stood like that for a while, until they heard voices not far away. The family was probably convinced the two of them had run away together. He stepped away and said in a soft voice, “I am sorry. For everything. Goodbye, Graciela.” He kissed her forehead and then walked away, not wanting to return to the Danvers’ house. How could he? Now that he’d kissed their daughter, and how he longed to do more than kiss her. He’d come and get his car later, say that he got too tipsy to drive home so he decided to walk.
You can’t have her. You can’t have her and you need to accept that.
He clenched his fists. He stomped through the dry grass, watching as the moon rose overhead. It was gibbous, silver and shining, and it lit his way home. It was a few miles, but he didn’t care. He’d walk to the ends of the earth right now if he could. He’d dive to the bottom of the ocean if it gave him what he was looking for.
Grace had said he was running away. But how could he be with her when everything was against them? When his behavior could affect so many people negatively? How could he be selfish enough to jeopardize his parents like that? She didn’t understand how tenuous his situation was.
He had the strongest urge to talk to his parents. He laughed at the thought. Would they understand this? His father would just nod soberly. Don’t do anything you’ll regret, he’d say in his lisping El Salvadorian Spanish.
He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he read a text from Adam: Where did you go?
He considered not answering, but knowing his friend, Adam would probably send out a search party for him. Jaime typed quickly, Drank too much and decided to walk home. I’ll get my car in the morning. Thanks for inviting me.
No response for a few moments. Then the question: What did you and Grace talk about? When she came inside, she went straight upstairs to her room. She wouldn’t even let Joy come in.
Jaime grimaced. He really, really, really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. The only thing he was glad about was that it was over text. If Adam had called him, God only knows what he’d give away in his voice.
We just talked, is all. She was upset, and she didn’t want to go back inside.
Okay, well, thanks for doing that.
Jaime had a distinct feeling this wasn’t the end of this particular conversation, but he was too tired to care at this point. He finally made it home and, upon entering, he collapsed on the giant couch he’d splurged on when he’d moved to Heron’s Landing and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to sleep, but at the same time, he didn’t want to do anything, either.
He lay in the dark, hearing the house creak around him. He dozed briefly. He dreamed of Grace, and her hair, and her smile, and then it all coalesced into a painting that he couldn’t understand. It swirled in dark, bold colors, and when he tried to touch it, it started bleeding: in blues and purples and reds, smearing his fingers.
He awoke with a start. His phone was vibrating again in his pocket. He pulled it out, rubbing his eyes, to see a text from none other than Grace herself.
Thank you for coming out to talk to me. I hope you had a good Thanksgiving.
It was such a perfunctory message, especially in comparison to their kiss and their heated conversation, that he couldn’t help but laugh a little. Grace never failed to keep him on his toes.
You’re welcome. Take care of yourself, okay?
Don’t worry about me.
He set his phone on his coffee table, knowing there would never come a day when he didn’t worry—or think—about Grace Danvers.
Chapter Nine
Two weeks after Thanksgiving, Grace hadn’t seen nor spoken to Jaime. That had been a fairly difficult task, given the size of the town they lived in and Jaime’s connection to her family. But Grace had wanted to honor his wish to stop whatever it was they’d been doing, although in actuality, she’d been too frustrated with him to see his face and not shake him until his teeth rattled.
She’d had an idea forming in her mind since then. If one of the main reasons they couldn’t be together was because of this ridiculous investigation, then perhaps Grace could do something to prove Jaime’s innocence. At first she dismissed the idea as too ludicrous. What could she do? She had an art degree, not a police badge. But as the days passed and she longed for Jaime just as much as ever, she felt like she had to do something. It was better than waiting around, hoping things would change.
On a bright, chilly day in early December, Grace awoke to a light snowfall. It was the first of the year, and it covered the world outside in a bright white blanket that hurt to look at too long. She’d never been much for snow, but she had to admit, it was pretty. But snow or no snow, she had a mission to accomplish.
She put on her snow boots and her coat and set off for River’s Bend. It was Sunday, and it was early. No one would be there—specifically Adam, who had taken to staying at Joy’s most nights and wouldn’t be leaving her warm bed to sit in his office at the vineyard. One of the many good things that had resulted in her brother’s engagement: he actually acted like a human being who didn’t work every hour of every day.
Grace had snagged the key that her father always had on hand. Going to the back of the vineyard’s main building—which made her heart pound, because it was close to where she’d spilled her guts to Jaime that night at the wedding—she unlocked the door, careful not to track snow everywhere.
She shivered. They kept the heat low when no one was around, and she guessed it was close to sixty degrees in here. She kept her coat on, stuffing her hands into her pockets. She’d forgotten to bring gloves. Darkness coated the inside of the front room, and she experienced a feeling like this wasn’t really River’s Bend at all, but some alternate reality version of it. S
he shook it off. If she were going to do this, she couldn’t stand here and stare at the wall like an idiot.
She walked back to Adam’s office, using the same master key to unlock it. She had no idea what she was even looking for, and part of her wanted to go back home and abandon this crazy scheme. But she was here for Jaime, wasn’t she? She shut the door quietly behind her before sitting down at Adam’s desk. Papers were scattered across it: financial reports, printed emails, bills, other kinds of correspondence that meant little to Grace as she scanned them. She had to smile at how often her brother printed emails. Didn’t he know he could save them in a folder on his computer and save a few trees?
She shook her head. She looked through the papers on Adam’s desk, but she knew he wouldn’t leave something particularly important on top of his desk like that. She logged onto his computer, and then realized she’d need his password. Cursing, she tried all kinds of combinations, but nothing worked.
Sitting back, she drummed her fingers on the desk. Well, this wasn’t good, was it? She began opening drawers, looking at pens and pencils, and then saw a yellow post-it attached to the inside of one of the drawers.
Username: ADanvers
Password: 1122Grapes
Grace laughed out loud. Her brother really needed to work on his computer security. She input the password, and it let her in without a hitch. Seeing all of Adam’s things on his desktop, she sighed, beginning to open anything that seemed important. Guilt curled in her stomach, realizing that this wasn’t exactly something Adam would be happy about if he found out. Then again, she was just looking, right? She was trying to help. Nobody else seemed to be interested in doing anything except placing the blame on Jaime with no evidence.
Resolved, she read through emails between Adam and the sheriff, scanning them. Her heart pounded when she saw that Sheriff Jennings had asked to return to River’s Bend to speak to the staff a second time. Jaime’s name wasn’t mentioned, but it was implied. One staff member in particular is of immense interest at this time.
She began looking at financial spreadsheets. Profit, loss, gross, sales tax—she didn’t understand it all and the numbers hurt her brain, but she could see where there was a gap in money coming and going. She leaned toward the monitor, looking more closely at one column, specifically detailing purchases for the restaurant. She started searching for receipts, looking on the computer and then digging through physical folders in Adam’s drawers. She found receipts from this year, and they all seemed like your usual kind of orders.
As she looked at the invoices, she noticed gradual price increases on the same items. She frowned, wondering if that meant anything at all. Would a vendor increase the price on an item each month?
But her focus was diverted when the door to Adam’s office suddenly opened. She stuffed the folder of receipts into the drawer, shutting off the monitor just as Eric came into the office.
“Grace?” he said, staring at her. “What are you doing here?”
Grace was a terrible liar. So she looked away, trying to still her shaking hands, and said lightly as she got up from the desk, “I left my gloves here. I was just looking for them.”
Eric just looked at her. He didn’t seem the least bit convinced, but she didn’t really care. She had to get out of here before he asked too many questions.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“I left my paycheck in my mailbox. I wasn’t sure if anyone would be here, but the backdoor was unlocked, so I came inside.” He narrowed his eyes at her slightly, assessing her. “Where’s your brother?”
“At home, I imagine.” She stepped around Eric, but he moved so she couldn’t leave the office without pushing him aside. “Did you need something?” she asked.
He didn’t say anything. Grace waited, hoping that he’d let her go in peace. A few months ago, Eric had decided that he’d ask her out on a date, which she had turned down without considering how annoyed he’d get by her refusal. After that, he’d watched her anytime they ran into each other, with a gaze that seemed to say he was still bitter about her rejection.
Her heart pounded now. Would he try to do something now? She cursed herself for her stupidity for coming here alone.
“Were you looking for something?” Eric asked. “Other than your gloves?”
She swiveled her head toward him. “No, I wasn’t.” She knew her voice didn’t sound convincing, but she didn’t care at this point. She needed to get out of here. “I have a shift at Trudy’s I need to get to,” she added pointedly.
He stepped aside to let her pass. As she went through the doorway, he said in a casual voice, “You should be careful, Grace. You don’t want to get involved in something you don’t understand.”
She looked back at him. He smiled, and it was a smile that sent a chill down her spine. But she wouldn’t let him intimidate her.
“I need to lock Adam’s office. Can you get your paycheck and meet me outside so I can lock everything up?”
He just shrugged. “Sure.”
Grace stood outside, waiting for Eric. She didn’t know what he was doing, but she knew he didn’t have a key for anything important. She rubbed her arms. She needed to get to Trudy’s here soon. She was about to go back inside and find him when the backdoor opened.
“Got it,” he said.
She huffed, locking the door and setting off. “Took you long enough.”
He didn’t follow her, but instead said to her retreating back, “See you later, Grace. And be careful.”
Arriving at Trudy’s, she put on her apron and could barely tie it because she was still shaking. Eric is such a cretin, she thought as she grabbed an order pad and her favorite pen. I hope he falls into a snowdrift and suffocates.
Her shift was slow, as not too many people wanted to come out in the snow. She served Garrett Granger his afternoon cup of coffee—three sugars, no cream—and served some tourists a plate of waffles and eggs despite the late time.
Trudy, the owner, was there this afternoon, bustling about the café. She gave Grace a once-over and then just shook her head, as if Grace were too hopeless to help.
She was rather feeling similarly about herself.
Later, in the evening, Grace heard the front door bell jingle and called out, “Welcome to Trudy’s.” Looking up, she saw a woman she hadn’t seen in quite some time enter. Kat Williamson, the granddaughter of Lillian Jacobs, who had come and gone from Heron’s Landing throughout her life. Grace had heard Kat had returned recently to help care for Lillian, who wasn’t doing well at the moment.
“Hi Ms. Williamson,” Grace said as she seated Kat. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Kat shook out the snow from her tight curls, currently worn in an afro that framed a smiling face. Kat stood out amongst the locals, with her hair, medium-brown skin, and penchant for brightly patterned clothes. Currently wearing black plastic glasses, she rubbed off the melted snow from the lenses before putting them back on.
“Grace, right?” Kat asked. “You can call me Kat, by the way. Calling me Ms. Williamson makes me think you’re talking to my mom.”
“Sure thing. It’s a habit I haven’t broken yet, the whole Mr. and Mrs. thing.”
Kat smiled, her dark brown eyes shining behind her glasses. “Being on the East Coast pretty much cured me of that. You call a woman Mrs. and you’ll get slapped with The Feminist Manifesto.”
Grace laughed. “I’ll make sure to remember that if I ever leave this town.”
Kat ordered a piece of cake with coffee, which Grace brought out to her. Seeing that no one else needed her, she couldn’t help but pepper Kat with questions. Although Kat wasn’t a new person like Joy had been, she was new enough in that she’d gotten out of Missouri and had met people who didn’t know what the Boot-heel meant or the difference between Kansas City and St. Louis.
“What are you doing now? I mean, job-wise?” Grace asked.
“I got a job at the elementary school, mostly as a computer tea
cher. I’m actually a computer programmer, but there isn’t a huge need for those around here. So I’m going to teach the children how to type.”
“That sounds…fun.”
Kat took a bite of her cake. “It should be something, I’ll say that. Although did you know a lot of schools have gotten rid of computer class? Which makes no sense, since we do everything on computers nowadays.”
Talking about computers reminded Grace of her adventure in Adam’s office today. Now a different kind of excitement filled her.
Trying to sound casual, she asked, “What kind of computer programming do you do? Like, could you hack into my computer and download all of my files?”
Kat sipped her coffee, her eyebrows raised. “Do you want me to hack into somebody’s computer?”
Yes, Eric O’Neill’s! “Oh, no, just curious.”
“Mmhmm, well, I’m not much for illegal hacking, but I won’t say that I couldn’t do it. Most people’s security systems are full of holes.”
Grace nodded eagerly. “My brother writes out his username and password on post-its that he leaves right next to his computer!”
Kat eyed her, but it was a curious look. “Yeah, things like that. There’s a reason why celebs keep getting their nudes leaked: they don’t realize how easy it is to hack into systems like the cloud, or their personal accounts.”
Grace heard the front door bell jingle. She looked up, greeting the couple coming in, and then said to Kat, “I need to take this, but let me know if you need anything else.”
Kat put her chin on her hand, smiling. “Of course.”
Grace didn’t get a chance to talk to Kat again beyond giving her the bill, which she paid in quarters. “My grandma made me break a twenty for her and gave me all of this change,” she said by way of explanation, shaking her head. “She told me I should use it to get a cup of coffee, even though a cup of coffee hasn’t been fifty cents since she was a kid.”
Grace pocketed her tip before placing the rest of the coins in the old-fashioned register. “Works for me. Have a good evening, Ms.—I mean Kat.”