Brenda Novak

by Home to Whiskey Creek

  Noah found that preposterous, a desperate attempt to influence him. Addy was trying to push him away, to protect him—not hurt him. She was the only one who wasn’t pleading her case and demanding his support. “Mom said you got an anonymous note after Cody died. It’s time you told me about it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do.”

  His father made an imperious gesture, one that revealed his irritation with being questioned. “It said nothing—nothing of the truth, anyway.”

  “Was it about the party? Was it a message from someone who knew what happened and was trying to alert you?” What else would have “tormented” his parents, except the fear that their dearly departed son might not have been as admirable as they’d always believed?

  “What if it was?” his father responded. “There was no signature, so it doesn’t matter one way or the other. For all we know, that letter came from Adelaide.”

  Noah gaped at his father. “Have you thought this through, Dad?”

  “I’ve thought of little else since she returned to town, I’ll tell you that.”

  “Then maybe you can answer this: Why would Adelaide falsely accuse Cody or anyone else? Especially now, after all this time? What does she have to gain? Do you honestly believe she wasn’t raped?”

  He turned to stare out the window. “Whatever happened, it was fifteen years ago.”

  Noah stepped toward him. “So?”

  His father glowered at him over one shoulder. “Cody’s dead, Noah! Destroying everything he was won’t serve any purpose. It certainly won’t help Addy.”

  “And the others who participated? They’re not dead.”

  “No, but they’ve become decent men, upstanding members of the community. Throwing them in prison for something they did—might have done—a decade and a half ago won’t do anybody any good. Two have wives. Three have kids. The people who love them have no culpability in whatever took place. Do you want to see innocents suffer for an act that even she claims was perpetrated when Cody and his friends were barely eighteen and too drunk to know what they were doing?”

  “So you believe her?”

  “I’m saying if.”

  His father’s logic made Noah afraid to ask his next question, the one he’d come here to ask. “Did you really hit a tree in the Range Rover, Dad?”

  He whirled around. “Now you’re doubting me?”

  “The man who kidnapped Addy was driving a white truck.”

  “You think I don’t know that? You think Chief Stacy hasn’t been staying in close touch with me? I’m the mayor of this town!”

  “So if you didn’t kidnap her, who did?”

  He scowled. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re saying you didn’t do it, but you know who did?”

  “Like I said, it doesn’t matter!”

  His father was getting impatient, but Noah pressed on. He wasn’t going to settle for It doesn’t matter. “Chief Stacy just called Milly. He said none of the men Addy’s accused of raping her owns a white truck or SUV, except Stephen, and his hasn’t been in an accident.”

  “Chief Stacy’s going to investigate, come up with nothing and let it all go. We’ve already talked about it. That’s what’s best for everyone.”

  “What?” Noah shoved a chair out of his way as he closed the gap between them. “You and Chief Stacy—you’re going to protect those who were responsible? You do believe her! You’ve just decided what justice should look like!”

  “You’d rather see Coach Colbert and Tom Gibby torn from their families?”

  “That isn’t what I want at all! But the truth isn’t for you to decide. Neither is the punishment. The one person you keep forgetting in all of this is Addy. She’s the victim here. She deserves our sympathy and our support.”

  “She’s fine. You’ve been in bed with her yourself. You know she’s recovered well enough.”

  The casual way he addressed their relationship infuriated Noah. His father wanted to think it was all about sex, but it wasn’t. “I have been in bed with her, Dad. I’ve made love to her. That’s why I know how deeply what they did affected her. They don’t have the right to sweep this under the rug—and neither do you. I won’t let you.”

  “What are you going to do to stop me?” his father demanded.

  “Anything I have to,” he said.

  * * *

  Noah didn’t leave Addy’s side for the better part of a week. Either he was at Milly’s, or he took her to his house. She knew he was afraid she might suffer some sort of backlash if he wasn’t there to protect her. That was why she hadn’t gone in to work. Too many Whiskey Creek citizens were upset with her for “trying to ruin the reputations of four good men” in addition to the memory of the golden boy they’d lost. They didn’t understand how she could accuse Cody of such a terrible crime—which meant, of course, that she had to be lying about Coach Colbert, Tom and the others, too.

  Addy thought Tom might speak up and tell the truth. He’d been so contrite when he came over to apologize that night after the football game, so filled with regret. But, according to Chief Stacy, he was keeping his story consistent with that of the others.

  Noah didn’t work much that week, either. He let his employees handle the bike store while he searched for a connection between Kevin, Stephen, Derek or Tom and a white vehicle that’d been damaged. He was afraid his father had been more involved than he was willing to admit and desperately wanted to prove otherwise. Addy wanted that, too. Although Noah didn’t talk about it, she understood how hard it was for him to lose his good opinion of his brother. It felt almost as if he was suffering through Cody’s death again, this time the death of his image. He didn’t want to think his father would go to such lengths to cover it up. Addy wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive his father if that was the case. But they weren’t having much luck. He could find no connection between Kevin, Tom or Derek and a white truck. And Stephen was keeping his Chevy locked in his garage.

  On Thursday morning, Noah had to run over to the store to help his tech finish a bike repair he was having trouble with, so Addy decided to get started on revamping the menu for Just Like Mom’s. Although she no longer planned to suggest that Gran sell the restaurant—she feared it would be too much for her grandmother on the heels of everything else—she still wanted to improve it. She’d been keeping herself busy bringing the accounting up to date, cooking and cleaning and creating new recipes, but she was going stir-crazy staying in so much. She was afraid she might have to move back to Davis in order to live a normal life. But she didn’t know how long her mother would stay with Gran. Helen had been talking to her husband at night on the phone. Addy had heard bits and pieces of their conversations and thought they’d probably reconcile. Not that it would last, even if they did. They fought all the time.

  Then there was Noah. She didn’t want to leave him. They’d grown so close the past few days. It was all she could do not to tell him how much she loved him. She would have, except she wanted him to feel free to change his mind about her....

  She’d just finished the first draft of the menu when the doorbell rang. Wondering whether or not it would be wise to open it, she hurried to the window but couldn’t see more than one muscular arm and some denim. “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Dylan Amos.”

  Aaron’s brother. She opened the door right away. “Dylan, how are you?”

  “I’m fine. I have some good news.”

  She blinked in surprise. “You do?”

  He grinned. “For you and Noah. Is he around?”

  “He’s at the store.”

  “I peeked in but didn’t see him.”

  “He must be in the workshop.”

  “Then I’ll stop by and talk to him on my way back. But I wanted to tell you it wasn’t Mayor Rackham’s car.”

  She gripped the door frame. “How do you know?”

  “Because I finally found what I’ve been l
ooking for.” He handed her a facsimile of a work order from A-1 Auto Repair, which had a Sacramento address.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s where Stephen Selby took his Chevy to have it fixed after hitting that retaining wall as he was driving you to the mine.”

  “How do you know he took it to this place?”

  “They told me.” His smile turned devilish. “I’ve been calling every auto body shop in Northern California. Some of them didn’t want to take the time to mess with me, so I pretended to be a P.I. investigating a rape, which made them much more eager to do what they could.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “I hope you can’t get into trouble for impersonating a private investigator.”

  “Even if I can, as far as I’m concerned it’ll be worth it.”

  She doubted Cheyenne would feel so cavalier about that. She was too much in love with her husband not to want to protect him. But Dylan was definitely his own man and made his own decisions. “So...it was Stephen,” she breathed.

  “The little bastard,” Dylan muttered. “I knew it had to be him.”

  “Makes sense, since he was the only one with a white vehicle.”

  “But the others could’ve gotten access to one. I knew it was him because, out of the four you named, he’s the only one who’s ever hung out with Aaron.”

  “That’s how he got Aaron’s knife!”

  A muscle flexed in Dylan’s jaw, giving her the impression that he was tempted to punish Stephen himself. He nodded.

  “I knew he wasn’t a nice guy,” she said, “but...as far as I’m concerned, none of them are.”

  “We won’t let them discredit you.”

  We. She liked the sound of that, except she knew she was splitting the town in two. “But if Chief Stacy isn’t going to go after him or the others, will anything we do really help?”

  “Sure it will. I’m about to call Ed over at the paper. If we put enough pressure on him, Stacy will have to investigate.”

  “He won’t be happy you’re trying to force his hand.”

  “I’m going to do more than try. Chief Stacy has been so eager to bust my balls, I’m finding this a pleasure.” With a wink, he added, “Give Milly my best.”

  * * *

  When he learned that Callie was back, Baxter felt the first sense of relief he’d experienced in several days. She’d called as soon as she landed in San Francisco to let him know she was coming. She must’ve dropped Levi off at their ranch once she hit town because she stood alone on his porch when he answered the door.

  “I leave for eighteen days and all hell breaks loose,” she complained in lieu of hello.

  “And I’m not sure you’ve heard the latest,” he said, eager to take the spotlight off himself.

  She hugged him before coming inside. “You mean about Cody and his baseball buddies committing a felony at that grad night party? I’ve heard.”

  “Do you believe it?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Noah is siding with Adelaide Davies.”

  “I’ve heard. But you realize he was seeing Adelaide when the news came out, right?”

  “I do. He’s still seeing her. He’s smack in the middle of the whole thing. Poor guy. But...”

  “But?” Baxter repeated.

  “Goes to show you’re not the only one who has problems.” She surveyed his living room. “Jeez, would you look at this place?”

  He shrugged at the mess. He’d never let his house go before. But it just wasn’t in him to care anymore.

  “You’ll never be able to sell it like this,” she said.

  “That’s all you’ve got to say? I got drunk and kissed my best friend, who doesn’t have a homosexual bone in his body. I took a whole bottle of sleeping pills because I didn’t want to deal with the reality of my situation anymore. My parents have learned that I’m gay and my father hasn’t spoken to me since. And you’re worried about me selling my house?”

  He’d finally said something that surprised her. He could tell by the way she cocked her head. “Who told your parents?”

  “My mother said Noah paid them a visit last weekend.”

  “Wow, he’s on a roll.”

  “Making friends all over.”

  He expected her to be upset with Noah. He was. But she pursed her lips, studied him for a moment and said, “He did the right thing, Bax.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “That’s bullshit!” he said, but he actually found Callie’s approach refreshing and welcomed the opportunity to react frankly. Eve, Ted, Cheyenne—the rest of them had been killing him with kindness since he got out of the hospital on Monday. They were obviously afraid the slightest misstep might push him over the edge again. He hated that.

  “It’s not bullshit,” she insisted. “I’m sure that wasn’t an easy decision for him to make.”

  “You think he had my best interests in mind?”

  “Knowing him, I do. Embrace who you are. Once you do, everyone else will, too.” With that she started straightening up his living room.

  “Stop cleaning!” he yelled.

  “Nope, sorry. Makes me feel better to be doing something.”

  He thought of the many times he’d done the same thing to Noah and almost laughed. “Well, it makes me feel like shit.”

  “You already feel like shit.”

  She had a point, so he didn’t argue. He just sat down.

  “You could help,” she said when he merely watched.

  “Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job.”

  When she stopped working and folded her arms across her chest, he knew he was about to hear the bottom line as she saw it. “You can’t go on like this, Bax.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got for me?”

  “That’s it.”

  “What else am I supposed to do, Cal?”

  “You only have one choice—pull your shit together.”

  For the first time, he heard anger in her voice and couldn’t help bristling. “Easy for you to say.”

  “No, it’s not easy for me to say. After what I went through last summer, I know how precious every minute should be. I didn’t fight for my life so you could throw yours away. Dark times only last if you let them. Pick yourself up and reconnect with the people and things you care about.”

  “I care about Noah.” He missed his best friend, missed knowing they were okay. It had been hard the past few days, hearing what was going on with the Rackhams and wondering how Noah was handling it.

  Her lips curved into an understanding smile. “Then call him.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Of course you can.” She brought his phone from where he’d left it on the counter. He had a slew of calls he hadn’t returned, from friends and clients. And a whole list of texts.

  “He’s dying to hear from you,” she said. “Just because he doesn’t want to have sex with you doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Rebuild a relationship with him—one you can both live with.”

  He stared at his “favorites” list on his phone. “And my father?”

  “He’s got some adjustments to make, some apologies, too. But he’ll come around.”

  30

  Baxter was nervous as he dialed Noah’s number. He felt so fragile, wasn’t sure he could handle the emotions hearing Noah’s voice would evoke. But staying away from him wasn’t easy, either. Their group of friends had been together since grade school, and the events of the past two weeks had upset them all—like a beehive that’d been struck and was suddenly in chaos.

  “Bax, is it really you?”

  He couldn’t help smiling at Noah’s relief. “Yeah, it’s me. You okay?”

  “I’ve had a shitty week, but no worse than you.”

  As Baxter looked around his house, he felt as if he was seeing it for the first time in a long while. “We’ve both had better.”

  “I’m sorr
y,” Noah said. “I’m sure you know this by now, but I’m the one who told your parents. I didn’t do it because I was trying to hurt you, though. I hope you believe that.”

  Callie was watching him a little too closely. Baxter waved her off to let her know she could quit worrying. “I do,” he said. “Maybe it was time for the truth. And maybe it’ll be for the best. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to summon up the nerve. The look on my father’s face when you told him—” he winced, imagining what that had been like “—it must’ve been pretty bad.”

  “Your mom seems to be handling it better.”

  Baxter guessed he’d been right about his father when Noah dodged the question like that. “She’s come to see me a couple of times.”

  “But not your father.”

  “Not yet.”

  “I feel bad, Bax. I really do.”

  Baxter rested his head on the back of the couch. He’d thought this call would be difficult, but the familiarity of talking to someone who’d been such a big part of his life more than compensated for any awkwardness. He just wished he hadn’t kissed Noah. He was embarrassed he’d taken it so far. “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”

  “You scared the shit out of us. You won’t do anything like that again, will you?”

  Baxter didn’t want to address his suicide attempt. He couldn’t even say why he’d done it. He’d just been so desperate for a way out. “I won’t, no.” He couldn’t promise too much at this point, but he owed his friends some reassurance. “I’m going to make some changes that should...help,” he finished simply.

  “Like therapy?”

  “And moving away from Whiskey Creek until I can figure out who I am and who I want to be.”

  “We’ll miss you.”

  “I won’t be that far,” he said, but he knew what Noah meant. The distance was already there. “And we’re getting older. Change happens.”

  “That doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing.”

  “True.” Eager to drop that topic, Baxter moved on. “I owe you an apology for how I behaved at the cabin—”

  “Forget it. There’s no need to discuss that. I was an idiot for dragging you up there.”

  Relieved to be able to put that subject behind him, too, Baxter drew a deep breath. “So...how are things with your family?”