“To be fair, guys in high school are pretty stupid. Including me. Obviously.”
Katie chuckled. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. I think everyone is pretty stupid in high school. Speaking of which…” she hesitated, and her cheeks, already rosy from the cold wind, turned a shade brighter. “I didn’t bring it up when we went to dinner, because apparently I’m still a big chickenshit. But added to the fact that I neglected to return your call and thank you, I feel like a total ass. So.” She cleared her throat. “I never really, properly, apologized for my role in what happened on senior ditch day.”
It was like icy water being dashed in his face. “Your role?”
“I meant to talk to you about it at the time. Afterwards, I mean. But I felt so bad, and I was afraid that you wouldn’t be my friend anymore. I finally worked up the courage to approach you at graduation, and then you… didn’t walk.”
Because he hadn’t been able to face the abject humiliation of getting his ass kicked by Beckett. But then again, Beckett hadn’t exactly fought fair.
“And then you changed schools and left for Florida,” she continued “and I didn’t have the confidence to contact you. I guess I was waiting for you to contact me.”
Which he hadn’t done. Aside from his family, he’d pretty much cut ties with everyone from Clayton. “I guess it’s my turn to apologize for being a bad friend.”
“No. That’s totally not what I meant. I’m bungling this. Remember how I asked you to pick me up?” she continued. “I… lied about having car trouble. I just really didn’t want to show up at the lake by myself.”
“Okay.” Sutton tried to makes sense of what she was saying. “I mean, you know I would have picked you up anyway, right? But I don’t see how that has anything to do with… events as they unfolded.”
Katie stared at him, and then rolled her eyes. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
Sutton was starting to feel like he wasn’t as smart as his academic career might have suggested. “Apparently not.”
“You brought a girl who was not your girlfriend to what was considered one of the most important social events of the year. Moreover, you brought a girl who was basically invisible instead of your highly visible girlfriend, making her look bad in front of her friends. And I orchestrated it.”
“I… gave you a ride,” he said, still struggling to understand her point. “It wasn’t a date. We were – are – friends.”
“Sutton,” she said in the same sort of tone one might use when addressing a toddler. “You may have been unaware of my feelings, but I can assure you that Shannon was not. Women know when someone else is after their man. Believe me. And while she may have considered me beneath her concern for multiple and obvious reasons, that doesn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off and jealous when I showed up with you at the lake. It’s… an image thing,” she explained. “Teenage girls are some of the pettiest, most socially self-conscious creatures on the planet.” She furrowed her brow. “Why did you think she went off with Beckett?”
Went off? “He put something in her drink,” Sutton said, incredulity increasing with every word.
She huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Like what?”
“Like a date rape drug.”
Katie’s head snapped back, the color leaching from her cheeks. “Is… is that what she told you?”
“It’s what I know. Jesus, Katie.” Memories rose again, memories that made it difficult for him to speak evenly. “I was there.”
“So was I.”
He was taken aback by the vitriol in her tone. “Are you seriously suggesting that she had sex with him willingly, as some sort of payback because I made her look bad?”
“Are you seriously suggesting that he had to drug her to make her willing? And where would he have gotten something like that, anyway?”
“From a dealer? It’s not difficult to get almost anything when you have enough money. Not to mention, he’d already been kicked out of boarding school for drugs. And you and I both know how easy it is to mix the chemical formulation for GHB. We even talked about it in class.”
“Sure, we know. But Beckett isn’t that bright.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending him.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending her, after what she did.”
“It wasn’t her fault.”
“Right.” She scoffed. “Drunk high schooler makes bad decision, but totally not her fault, guys. News at eleven.”
“You’re being really freaking callous.”
“You’re being really freaking naïve. She married him, Sutton. Willingly. In a big, splashy ceremony, with half of Rabun County in attendance.”
“Because she was pregnant!”
“By the wealthiest guy in town. How convenient.”
“You think this was about money?”
“And image.”
“She’s working as a waitress, for God’s sake.”
“It’s called a prenup. You think his family is stupid?”
“I think this conversation might be.”
Otis began to whine, and Sutton realized that he’d raised his voice.
Katie soothed the puppy while never taking her gaze off of him. Sutton found the scrutiny uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”
She was quiet long enough to make things awkward, and Sutton thought she wasn’t going to respond. He was trying to decide whether to attempt to explain himself further, or simply give her some space and leave. It was obvious that she was angry, although he didn’t fully understand why. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed in her apparent defense of Beckett.
“I’m the one who should apologize,” she finally said. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but it was probably self-indulgent to bring it up after all this time.” She stared at the ground for a long moment. “I know how awful that day ended up being for you, and, well, everything that happened after. I just wanted you to know that I was sorry if I contributed to your unhappiness in any way.”
Sutton felt like a jerk for getting defensive. But he couldn’t stand the thought of Beckett getting a pass. Another pass. From what appeared to be an endless supply of them.
“It’s water under the bridge, Katie.”
“Yes, well. Some water has a way of coming back around.” Before he could ask what she meant by that, she shifted the dog in her arms. “This guy is about to fall asleep, and it’s going to be dark soon, so I better head back.” She lifted her face to the sky. “I swear those look like snow clouds building up.”
Sutton recognized a conversational roadblock when he heard one, and so followed her gaze. “Last I checked, the forecast still said rain, maybe a little sleet. But it’s not supposed to start until late tonight.”
“Supposed to being the key phrase. We had that nasty storm earlier in the week, and thunder in the winter brings snow within seven days. At least,” she added “that’s what my granny always used to say.”
“It’s November,” Sutton pointed out. “Winter doesn’t begin for another month.”
“Close enough.” She studied his face for a moment. “I really am sorry for upsetting you.”
“It seems like we upset each other.”
She answered that with a shrug and another change of topic. “We’ll grab that dinner or a drink one day soon?”
“Sure.” And because the unexpected tension filled him with regret, he did what he could to relieve it. “If you can find it in your heart to call me back this time.”
She mock punched his arm before zipping her fleece up around the puppy. “Say bye to the guy who is going to snip off your balls.”
“Do you have to put it like that?” Sutton winced, but he gave the puppy a final scratch anyway.
He watched the pair leave, playing back the conversation in his head. He didn’t understand why Katie had gotten upset over him correcting the record of what happened that night, but then he often found himself not understanding wo
men. Hell, he hadn’t even realized she’d had a thing for him back then. He guessed it wasn’t surprising that he was in the dark, even now.
Glancing at the sky, Sutton debated about whether to head on to the falls or turn around and go back himself. As Katie had pointed out, the weather was beginning to turn, and it wouldn’t be long before he lost the light.
But he’d come this far, and so he headed the short distance down the hill to the wooden walkway on which he’d first spied Katie.
Water under the bridge, he’d told her. In this case, literally. Watching the spill of it over and around boulders the size of Volkswagens, Sutton couldn’t help reexamining what she’d said.
Why do you think she went off with Beckett.
Was that what people thought? Then, or even now? That he’d fought with Beckett, damn near getting himself killed in the process, because his girlfriend at the time had sex with him behind his back?
Or was that just Katie’s obvious bitterness leaching through, tainting her version of events?
Wrapping his fingers around the wood rail, Sutton watched spray from the waterfall hit his hands as anger gripped him. Anger that made it all too easy to recall the fury he’d felt when he’d gone looking for Shannon and found her in the boathouse, clothes in disarray, covered in vomit, and passed out on top of a pile of lifejackets. Contrary to Katie’s suggestion, Shannon hadn’t been much of a drinker, so he’d known something was up. And while Sutton and a couple of Shannon’s friends were trying to clean her up, Beckett started bragging to some of their classmates about nailing her. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what he’d done.
He’d been devastated when Shannon wouldn’t press charges. He’d felt like she was punishing him for failing to protect her.
And while he understood now that shutting him out had been her way of dealing with the trauma, his teenage self hadn’t had the maturity to handle it. Guilt and wounded pride and a feeling of impotence turned him nastier than he had any right to be, and they’d had a very ugly, very permanent breakup. And part of him was still damned sorry that it happened.
When his sweatshirt started to feel damp, Sutton realized that it wasn’t the spray from the waterfall making him wet, but it had actually started raining in earnest. Glancing down, he discovered dark smudges across the front of his chest, probably from the puppy’s paws. God knew what Otis had been digging around in.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there getting rained on. Long enough for his fingers to go numb. And probably longer than he should have, given that he was supposed to be at Willow’s, with chicken in a bucket, by six o-clock. He hoped the worst of the weather held off until later, but worried that Katie might not have been too far off in her prediction of a little snowfall. Or its nastier cousin, freezing rain. It had been a long while since he’d driven in those conditions, and quite frankly, wasn’t looking forward to it.
He thought about the fact that tomorrow’s hike may have been called off anyway. It didn’t make him feel any better.
The sound of muffled voices caught him off guard, and he looked around before remembering that he had a two-way emergency radio in his backpack. It must have gotten jostled around and somehow switched on. Shrugging it off his shoulder, Sutton unzipped the pack and removed the walkie-talkie. He wasn’t officially on call, but if there were a serious enough incident, they’d recruit anyone who was available. From the sound of it, it appeared to be a two-car collision due to wet road conditions. The road in question was pretty much right around the corner, but the responders on scene seemed to have it under control. Turning the radio off, he dropped it into the backpack, slid the straps over his shoulders and then hunched them against the rain.
Taking more care with his footing than he had on the way in, Sutton was halfway back to the parking area when something the dispatcher said registered.
Unzipping his pack again, he snatched up the radio, listened to the chatter from the scene. And then ignoring his footing, Sutton began to run.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SOMETHING appeared to have happened earlier at the inn up the street, something that had Clancy’s customers talking in hushed, funereal tones. Adeline caught the words tourist, damn shame and stinking drunk, but given her impaired hearing and the fact that the cafe was mostly empty at this odd hour, she couldn’t determine what was going on.
Not that it was any of her business.
She’d come here this afternoon to work, not to get involved in the latest town gossip. Of course, she’d be lying to herself if she claimed a lack of curiosity. She was only human, after all. But she didn’t know or even recognize anyone here, and she wasn’t the type to approach a complete stranger and ask them what the hubbub was about. Often, baristas and waitstaff were fonts of information, but the man behind the counter at the moment appeared more interested in whatever he was watching on his phone. Some sort of sporting event, if his occasional raised fists and intermittent looks of disgust were any indication. Not that she could blame him for it. She’d worked in a restaurant for a short while in college, and remembered that dead time between three and five all too well. Rolling silverware and gossiping with the other employees were the only things keeping boredom at bay. Since he was the only server in the coffee shop section at the moment, and no one was seated at the bar, he needed something to help pass the time.
Focus, Adeline.
Realizing that she’d allowed her attention to wander for probably the dozenth time in as many minutes, she returned her gaze to her laptop. She’d been scatterbrained even more than normal today, and she couldn’t decide if it was a function of fatigue, widow brain, or general anxiety. Or some combination of the three.
She hadn’t heard from Sutton.
Granted, they hadn’t made any sort of plans, and she knew he was busy getting his veterinary practice up and running. She’d been tempted to drive past it as she came into town, but she didn’t want to be a stalker. With her luck, he’d be standing at the front window just as she went by, and then she’d have to find a hole to crawl into. Another hole. And he’d probably leave her there this time.
Stop catastrophizing.
It was a bad habit of hers, because if you expected the worst, you couldn’t be surprised when it happened. But it also led to her not even bothering to try a lot of times, based on the assumption that things would go south.
However, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d scared Sutton off last night. She didn’t usually – hadn’t ever, to be accurate – put her cards out on the table, right up front. If and when she was interested in someone, she took her time feeling them out before letting down her guard. She didn’t fully understand why she’d acted differently with him. Because the way they’d met inspired trust? Maybe.
Regardless, she was feeling foolish for exposing her inner demons. He’d seemed understanding, but really, how well did she know him?
Admitting she’d allowed her thoughts to drift again, Adeline sighed. Because she knew from long experience that it was futile to attempt to force herself to work when she was this distracted, she instead logged on using Clancy’s guest WIFI, and went to her blog. Her postings there had been sporadic since her dad’s death, but she did try to put something up every couple of weeks. And while she’d been tempted to delete the photos of the old house in the fog, Sally had talked her out of it. Bad vibes and injured arm notwithstanding, there were some really atmospheric captures that she wasn’t likely to get again. She’d shared a couple of them, along with a description of her misadventures, in a post several days ago. One of the things she was asked most often – second only to Have you ever seen any ghosts? – was Have you ever gotten hurt while exploring? Up until recently, the answer was no. She imagined that there were quite a few comments on that post discussing the fact that her streak had been broken.
She scrolled to the visitor feedback.
As she’d expected, there were some expressions of sympathy from a few of her regular followers, along with
some jokes and jabs. She’d made a number of online friends among the abandoned enthusiast community, so she wasn’t at all offended by the comment It’s about time!!
Adeline smiled, because that particular commenter was an urban explorer who’d broken his arm and his ankle on separate occasions. He frequently kidded that she wasn’t really one of them until she hurt herself at least once.
You’re stuck with me now, she typed back, followed by a wink emoji.
Still chuckling over the exchange, she scrolled down to the next comment.
That’s what you get for being where you don’t belong.
Adeline scowled. The user name wasn’t one that she recognized, but since the blog was for her own enjoyment rather than something she did professionally, she didn’t keep track of new followers as closely as she could. She looked to see when they joined, and discovered that it was earlier today.
Troll.
Usually it was the spam bots she had to watch out for and delete, but occasionally trolls did find her little corner of the internet. She deleted the comment and blocked the user. Of course, if they were really determined they could just create a new account, but that wasn’t what usually happened. They’d simply move on to the next unsuspecting victim, spreading nastiness across online comments sections like a virus.
Irritated, she read a few more posts, but didn’t feel like responding. The troll had ruined her enjoyment.
Looking up, she realized that the tables nearby were beginning to fill. It was getting close to dinner time, so she should probably get going. She wanted to run a few errands before it was fully dark. Especially, she thought as she looked out the window, considering that the weather was about to turn. Her app suggested that there was a possibility of a wintry mix overnight, and while the Floridian in her delighted at the possibility, her practical side realized that she had no idea how to drive in those conditions. The roads around here were challenging enough in perfect weather, so she couldn’t even imagine them covered in ice. She needed to hit the grocery store and stock up on… whatever one stocked up on in this type of situation, in case she couldn’t get out for a couple of days.
Slow Burn (Rabun County Book 1) Page 18