Shy Girl

by Katie Cross

  That information ran through my mind. New drug. That’s all we needed. Drugs had been an increasing problem in our quiet mountain town for the last several months. New stuff would only draw more of them here and create more issues. I rubbed my jaw, still a little sore from an errant elbow.

  “She was freakishly strong on it,” I said.

  “They all are.”

  Her dismissive comment nearly set my teeth on edge, but I shoved that off. The high of adrenalin had subsided in the aftermath. The rush seemed to fade faster with each event. Full night had already fallen outside, and after an early morning with a heavy workout, I felt the extent of my fatigue. Not even the cup of coffee I’d finished almost two hours ago seemed to work anymore.

  Maybe I was just getting old.

  Kate clapped me on the shoulder. “Solid work, Hernandez. We’ll get more information soon and pass it on. Let go of it for tonight and have a good night’s sleep. You work too much as it is, and you’re scheduled to work on Monday.”

  She left without a farewell, but Kate never made space for that kind of thing. Her mind had already skipped ahead to her next task as she stepped over to Maverick and Bethany.

  I frowned while I studied the quiet room. Something here was missing. Except for Kate, the response team was gone. Investigation over. Maverick here.

  Still, I missed something . . .

  The quiet whirr of the heater was the only sound over Kate’s quiet murmur with Maverick. Outside, blue and red lights whirled silently, a quiet, steady beacon like a heartbeat. As macabre as it sounded, the flashing colors comforted me.

  That’s when I realized it: Dagny.

  I’d completely forgotten about her until just then, despite the fact that she was the only other integral part of this equation. She’d remained calm and cool under pressure, just like one of my best friends, Vikram. Couldn’t fluster him if I tried. She even managed to get help here just in time. That woman had been strong enough on whatever she’d inhaled that I almost hadn’t been able to keep her from harming herself, me, or Dagny.

  I rubbed the heel of my hand into my eyes after another fruitless search for Dagny. She lived above the Frolicking Moose now, and had for a few months. Ever since her friend, Serafina, surrendered the lease to marry Benjamin Mercedy. I should go check on her.

  But she probably didn’t want me to.

  My teeth clacked together with indecision. A hot shower and a hard night’s sleep sounded best, but the right thing to do would be to check on her. Dagny and I didn’t know each other well, but her former work at the Diner, which she'd quit months ago, meant she knew almost as much as I did about Pineville. Which was likely the only thing we had in common, aside from being almost shot tonight.

  Certainly wasn’t my first time, but I’d bet it was hers.

  After another moment of debate, I stepped outside, circled around the back of the shop, and knocked loudly. The entrance to the loft hid a spiral staircase that led upstairs. Lights glowed overhead, illuminating squares of the pebbled ground. A body moved toward the window, seemed to hesitate, and then disappeared. Just before I rapped again, a light moved inside and Dagny came down the stairs.

  When she came face-to-face with me, she blinked. Whoever she’d expected, it clearly hadn’t been me. For that, I couldn’t blame her. Until this moment, I couldn’t recall any time that we’d spoken outside of her taking my order or trivialities over coffee. Acquainances, I’d call us.

  But now I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t made more of an effort to be her friend. Or . . . something.

  “Hey,” I said through the glass door. “Just wanted to check on you.” Her lips round into an O and she attempted a weak smile that failed seconds later. When I realized she wasn’t going to speak, I asked, “You good?”

  She nodded.

  “You did good, Dag.”

  “Th-thanks. You s-saved the d-day.”

  I chortled. Preventing a druggie from harming others wasn’t, unfortunately, all that unusual for a day in my job. But I remembered again how freakishly strong the woman had been. She could have killed Dagny if I hadn’t shown up. Taken from Dagny’s perspective, it probably felt like I’d saved the day. Still, it was weird praise to receive because praise had nothing to do with my career motivations.

  “No heroes here,” I said, “except you. Thanks for your help.”

  A glass door separated us, and she didn’t seem inclined to open it. For some reason, I was glad for that. Women were never cautious enough at night, even in a small mountain town and with a man they trusted. Or allegedly trusted, anyway.

  “Are you really okay?” I pressed.

  She seemed perfectly composed. Her eyes were clear, no signs of crying. Her voice even, but not stiffly so. Slashes of color crossed the backs of her hand—paint, was it?—and a little streak lingered across her cheek bone, beneath her left eye. All in all, I’d guess she had a regular day, not that she was just held at gunpoint. Except for the quick, hesitant swallow that followed, I wouldn’t have known anything was amiss.

  She nodded again.

  Had I not noticed before how little she spoke? Or was she actually traumatized and just trying to hide it? For some reason, it mattered tonight. My lack of understanding only frustrated me. Dagny was young, beautiful, and clearly had her life together.

  Why hadn’t I asked her out yet?

  “Okay.” I nodded and took a step back. She needed space. I could give that. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll bring my card by tomorrow so you have my cell phone, just in case.”

  Another nod.

  “Bye, Dagny.”

  With that, she disappeared back up the stairs.

  3

  Dagny

  The moment I returned to the loft from Jayson's check-in, I shut the door, slid down the length of it, and collapsed into a heap.

  Long, slow breaths calmed my racing heart as I stared at the grains of wood in the floor. The only reason I’d answered the knock was because I thought Maverick and Bethany would want to talk about what happened. Would they be upset with me? Proud of me? Critique my response? There were cameras that they’d already reviewed. Maybe they’d be upset that I gave up the money too quickly.

  No, that would be insane.

  Maverick and Bethany would be worried about me first. Logically, I knew that, but it didn’t prevent my fear. In the end, I just wanted them to respect me as much as I respected them, and I didn’t understand why. Even though I dreaded the potential conversation with my employers—and sort of my friends—I still went down the stairs because it was the right, adult thing to do.

  Jayson had stunned me right into my usual tongue-tied state.

  That I’d managed to get any words out felt like a miracle. Still, he’d left with something of a furrowed brow and an unsatisfied air. As if he’d expected a weeping woman, perhaps? That would be nice. Crying helped something come out.

  After deep breathing my way through the tightness in my chest, I straightened. The acrid, unmistakable smell of stain filled the loft, despite an open window over the sink that spilled cooling summer air. Broken pallets lay in wreckage across the floor, like discarded driftwood. Metallic containers of turpentine dotted the counter near the sink next to a pile of nails and assorted hammers. A fresh round of stained wood lay propped against the wall. Still tacky, it would be ready for final creation in two days.

  I shoved the supplies I’d prepared out of the way and almost knocked a textbook over in the process. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was focus on anything creative or intellectual. Instead, I dropped onto my old recliner. A quiet, vague movie soundtrack filled the loft, so calm I’d forgotten I put it on, because nothing soothed quite like orchestral music. Seconds after I settled, my phone dinged with a text message.

  Bethany.

  My stomach became a pool of dread, but dissipated the moment I opened the text.

  Bethany: I’m so glad you’re okay, Dagny. You did everything right by handing
the money over. Always protect yourself first. Money comes and goes, so never worry about that. Do you want some time off? Ellie isn’t leaving for college for three more weeks. She can cover you. Or I can, too.

  Relief swept through me. Of course they weren’t upset. Of course Bethany said the exact right thing. She’d even texted, which I preferred over talking on the phone. Stuttering in person was one thing—the other person could see my attempts to speak and most people were patient. The phone was worse. Long silences were often misinterpreted, and I ended up talking over people without meaning too, or they did it to me.

  Dagny: No, thank you. I’d rather work. Thankfully nothing terrible happened, and I appreciate your words. I wanted to do the right thing.

  For a moment, I hesitated over sending it. The last line made me feel a bit like a lost puppy. But then, wasn’t I something of a lost soul tonight? Before I could lose my courage, I hit send.

  Bethany: We are lucky and grateful to have you. Anything we can do, let us know. Mav and I are discussing a panic button that goes right to the sheriff’s office. We’ll keep you updated.

  * * *

  Dagny: Thank you.

  With that weight off my chest, I pulled a blanket over me, snuggled farther into the too-large chair, and sank into a blessed oblivion where Jayson rescued me over and over again.

  4

  Jayson

  Almost a week later, my phone buzzed in my hand before I answered a new call. My best friend Vikram’s voice brought a grin to my face when he asked, “Hey man, what’s up?”

  “Hey brother,” I said. “Just taking Odin out for a few minutes. How about you?”

  A sparkling reservoir lay in front of me as I pulled my cruiser door closed. My Belgian Malinois, Odin, settled in the back after a quick romp in the dry part of the lake bed. We had a full shift ahead of us, and I couldn’t wait for something to distract me. Replays of the Frolicking Moose kept moving through my head, and they always ended on Dagny.

  I couldn’t figure out why.

  Why did Dagny fill my head? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about her and her level-headed response yesterday? She’d knocked the gun out of the attacker’s hand, which might have saved my life. Dagny had always been around, but whenever I tried to peg a specific memory of her, she only appeared in the background.

  “Calling about the wedding,” Vikram said. “Can you believe this garbage? Grady is choosing to settle into happily-never-having-fun-again at just twenty nine years old. I mean . . . she’s a pharmacist. Her father is a freaking oil tycoon and the wealthiest man in Texas. They’re never going to do anything fun ever again.”

  A pit formed in my stomach. Ah, yes. Grady’s wedding. The looming problem on my horizon that I couldn’t, apparently, ignore anymore. Considering that the epic island wedding was only a week away, I definitely couldn't ignore it.

  Grady was the first man out of our four friends from high school—affectionately called the Band of Merry Idiots by our baseball coach—who was just about to succumb to the big ol’ M word.

  Marriage.

  Grady was the oldest of our group by about three months and usually the voice of reason, if any reason entered our stupid situations. He lived in Texas now with his almost-wife and we hadn’t seen him since our last get together in the winter. He'd been moonstruck and distracted the whole time, refusing to attempt taking a snowmobile off a jump Vik and I had painstakingly constructed over months of work and testing.

  “Too dangerous,” he said.

  And we teased him mercilessly for the next four days.

  “Marriage, Jay,” Vikram muttered and brought me back to the present before I could respond. “Grady is breaking the pact.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He is not.”

  “Might as well be. After this, we can never go back to the way things used to be. He’s going to stop coming with us, you know?”

  I shook my head in a silent display of frustration. Grady's attention on crazy outdoor stunts had been dwindling for a while as his career gobbled up his life. Helene, his fiancée, was just a matter of inevitability on Grady’s normal-life trajectory. That had always been Grady, though. He found a path and never deviated. Not even when his fellow Merry Idiots tried to talk him out of it by scheduling a skydive in Maui.

  “He hasn’t really been coming for a while, Vik. His heart isn’t in it, and you know it.”

  “But he came enough that it clearly still meant . . . something. Helene is going to hold him back. She’s going to make him live small and safe in their white-picket-fence world.”

  “He's making that choice.”

  “She's encouraging it!”

  “Vik, that’s not your business.”

  “He’s my best friend. Blood brothers. It is my business.”

  My fingers curled around a familiar scar on my palm. Cheesy, elementary school kids set loose with a dull knife led to all of us slashing our palms and clasping them together in an oath of friendship. As Hollywood as it sounded, something had certainly bonded us that night, because we’d always been together afterward. All four of us crashed through mountain life. Our idiotic stunts are what pushed me into law enforcement in the first place, because I certainly had enough run-ins with deputies. Most of them said to me what I told teenagers now.

  “Don’t be stupid. Your life isn’t worth it.”

  Only now, I understood what they meant. At the time, I ignored their warnings. Despite my level-headed approach compared to Vikram, part of me felt his same frustration.

  Change got us all.

  “It’s just . . . it sucks.” Vik made a raspberry sound, and I could picture him running a hand through his dark, wild hair. “Bastian hasn’t said a word about it.”

  “He's on a fire.”

  “I talked to him before he went out.”

  “He liked Helene.”

  Vik snorted. “He never said that.”

  “He never says that he likes anyone. It’s implied if he’s giving support. Don’t be a hater, Vik,” I leaned back in the seat. Sun hammered the roof of the cruiser, warming my face while I turned on the air conditioning. “We always knew Grady would go first. Besides, Helene is lovely.”

  Vikram grunted under his breath, and I thought I heard a flippant whatever. “You’re going, right?” he asked.

  “I’m going.”

  “Even with Victoria there?”

  Something clutched in my chest, and it felt a lot like stress. Regret. Determination. Idiocy. Victoria was a whole jumble of the lot of them. Grady was my first best friend. He'd bailed me out of so many bad situations, I’d lost track. Grady, to whom I couldn’t say no and face again without guilt. Grady was as close to a brother as I’d ever get. My single mother had never married after my father died in a car accident at twenty-two-years-old, a month before my birth. My cousins had been my siblings. So had my friends. My sworn-in-blood brothers. It’s why I said yes when he asked me to be his Best Man.

  Yet Victoria, the annihilistic man-eater of a woman that I'd once chased hard, would be at his wedding.

  As the Maid of Honor.

  Rock, meet hard place.

  Grady’s wedding put me in an impossible situation, one that I had only a marginal, small hope of sailing through. Not only did I need to be there to support Grady, but I had to act like nothing existed, past or present, for me and Victoria.

  In a word—it was going to suck.

  “Even with Victoria there,” I muttered.

  He laughed darkly. “I hear she's bringing someone new.”

  “Everyone is new with Victoria.” I picked at a string on my leg. “She rotates through men like a swinging door.”

  “Sorry, Jayce. She wasn't good for you.”

  My eyes clenched shut. Logically, I knew that. Knew that Vic was bad news almost the moment I approached her. Could feel it all the way in my veins. But that didn't stop me from being affected. Victoria had closed the door on something happening between us four months ago, yet my pride still stung
.

  Maybe that was why I hadn’t noticed Dagny.

  I shook my head. No. I didn’t need to let my thoughts wander back there constantly. Dagny was . . . something different. She didn’t belong in a conversation with Victoria. Dagny had class and grace Victoria would never achieve.

  Except, Victoria’s presence meant I wouldn’t arrive single to that wedding. Not if my life depended on it. Worst-case scenario, I'd take one of my cousins and pay her to hold my hand like we were together, or something. But even that was a path fraught with peril and, as I thought about it, kind of weird.

  “You aren’t going to bring Maria, are you?” I asked, just to get the topic off of me.

  He laughed. “No way. You know she’s gone forever.”

  Vik’s ex-girlfriend Maria sent a shudder through me. Her drama-mama attitude had her lashing out like a hissing cat when Bastian met her at a BBQ. He’d responded in kind, and the result had been ugly. The memory replayed through my mind with a cold chill. It hadn’t gone well. We’d set Vikram down for a firm talking-to after we'd met Maria and her money-grubbing ways. Thankfully, he let her go immediately. Vik wasn’t the “settling” type anyway.

  Same thing happened with me and Victoria. Bastian, like a hound, sniffed out our insincere types and sent them running. Like he had a special pulse on people, or something. An unlikely talent for a wildland firefighter who hid away on his beloved computer doing who-knew-what whenever there wasn't a fire crackling around.

  Except I couldn’t, apparently, avoid Victoria forever. Which had been my original plan when she turned me down. We had no reason to see each other again. Now, Grady's marriage threw a wrench in even that idea.