by Joanne Rock
But Hazel had never liked Bailey’s former boyfriend. And the dog’s tail was still in motion. Her arthritic legs high-stepping in excitement.
“Bailey?” Her mother stepped out of the shadows. She wore a man’s-style trench coat over pale jeans and a white T—clothes Bailey didn’t remember her wearing before.
“Mom?” Her father had changed the locks after her mother was arrested. “I heard you were out and that you went to the school first.”
She hadn’t been surprised to learn her mother had been released on bail. Her father had been saying Mom’s expensive lawyer would win his appeal for bail sooner or later. But it bugged Bailey to think her mother’s first stop was to make trouble with Mrs. Covington instead of trying to see her own daughter.
At her feet, Hazel whimpered and scratched to get out.
“My worthless lawyer finally made good on his promise to free me before the trial.” Her mother shrugged.
Seriously? Her mother deserved to be behind bars for what she’d done to Megan. How could a grown woman harass a teenager like that, pretending to be a peer? It was totally sick. And her mother had never apologized, never tried to send her a letter from jail explaining why she’d done any of the horrible things she’d done.
Bailey said nothing.
“I hoped I could see you,” her mother said finally, perhaps guessing Bailey wasn’t going to let her off easily. “I knew tonight was your dad’s poker night, so I took a chance.” She smiled at Hazel through the screen door. “Could you let the dog out at least?”
“I might as well since she’s the only one who is happy to see you.” Bailey cracked open the door so Hazel could greet her mother. “Meg, I’d better call you back,” she said into the phone, feeling her friend’s disapproval even if Megan didn’t discourage her.
“Be careful, okay?” Megan warned her. “Want me to call someone? Let your dad know she’s there?”
“It’s okay.” No matter how angry she was with her mother, she felt like she deserved an explanation for some of the things that had happened. “I’ll be fine.”
“Call me back when she leaves, okay?” Megan asked. “I have something to tell you.”
“For sure,” she said absently.
Ending the call, she stepped out into the dark evening, still holding her blanket around her shoulders like a shawl.
“I picked up some groceries.” Her mother pointed toward the driveway, where her car was still running, the headlights on. “I’ll get them for you before I go.”
“Yeah?” She watched Hazel rub her doggy face against her mom’s right knee and then her left one, happy as a dog could be. It was easier for Hazel, who didn’t know Mom’s villainous side. “I was just trying to make a salad a second ago. There’s nothing.”
Her mother pursed her lips and frowned. She looked strangely good, though. Like she’d been to the spa for three weeks instead of prison, which seemed weird. The little worry lines that used to be around her forehead all the time had eased. She wasn’t moving around at a mile a minute trying to get things done.
“Bailey, I’m so sorry for everything. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness.” She rubbed the dog’s head, and Bailey noticed her wedding ring was gone. “I’m going to try to patch up whatever I can fix, but... I don’t know. I just wanted you to hear it from me directly that I understand what I did was so wrong, and I’m going to try hard to be a better person.”
“Dad is crazy angry.” She’d listened to his tirades—ugly stuff about her parents’ marriage that she wished she’d never heard. She knew her father would never take her mother back in a million years.
“Rightly so.” Her mother’s expression was unreadable, but she didn’t look away.
“But setting aside all the ways you hurt Dad? I’m so angry about what you did to my best friend.” Her mom had made the anonymous texts sound like they’d come from one of the girls at school. “You told Megan she might as well die.”
Her eyes burned to think that level of hate had come from her mother. The person who was supposed to love her the most in the world.
“I have regretted that every day since I sent it.” She straightened from petting the dog, folding her arms tight. “Every hour. I knew it was stupid at the time. I knew I was stupid for letting Jeremy talk me into it.” She frowned as if she still didn’t understand it herself.
This conversation sucked for about a million reasons. But it was really strange to stand there and be disappointed with her mother for acting like the most idiotic teenager on the planet. Since when was Bailey the adult in this relationship?
“Did you ever stop to consider what could have happened if Megan had taken the message to heart? Like, what if she was having a bad day and she got a note that said ‘You might as well die.’” Her mother had—as she was fond of reminding people—run a major electronics company at one time. How could someone so smart do something so dumb just because her boyfriend told her to? “What if she decided her life was shit and she should end it all?”
Her mother shook her head, blond hair slipping out of the elastic in front to hang in her face. “I’m truly sorry. What I did was unforgivable.”
Bailey had a whole lot more to say about that, but what was the point? Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Blah. Blah. Blah. The word didn’t mean much to her. It didn’t change what her mother had done.
Hugging the blanket tighter around her, she nodded toward the car. “Let’s bring in the groceries before Dad gets home.”
She damn well wanted the food.
“Okay.” Her mother followed her along the landscaped pathway they’d put in when they first moved here.
The cobblestone pavers had taken her mother weeks to choose. Was it strange for her to be here, walking on those stones she had picked and knowing she’d never be part of life in this house again? Bailey did not want to care how she felt. But she wondered.
Once they retrieved the bags and carried them to the porch, Bailey stepped back outside with her mom, ready for her to leave. Her mother hadn’t offered any great insights or reasons for what she’d done. And the last thing she wanted was a confrontation between her parents when her father came home.
“Are you still with him?” she asked, even knowing her dad could pull into the driveway any minute. “I mean, if Mr. Covington gets out of jail—”
“No.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “I am going to do everything I can to make sure he goes to prison for a long time after—” She shook her head like she wasn’t going to say any more.
“Um.” Bailey tapped her foot and tried to decide how to express herself. “If you think you’re protecting me or something, please spare me after what you’ve already put me through. I’d like to know where you truly stand with him, Mom.”
“Jeremy Covington is a cheating liar who had another girlfriend half the time we were together. And if I can do anything to make sure he goes to jail, I will.”
Bailey’s head spun from her mother’s lack of sense. If she’d been talking to a girlfriend, she would have pointed out that her mom should have known he was a cheater by the fact that he was married and carrying on an affair. But her mother had lost her marbles. It was like one of those teen movies where the mom and daughter switch places for the day. Except Bailey would never pull the childish crap her mom had.
“How about Mr. Covington’s kid?” she asked instead, tracing a path between the pavers with the toe of her shoe. “Can you send J.D. to jail, too?”
“Why?” Her mom stepped closer, all tense like she was poised for action. “Did that boy do something to you?” She put her hands on Bailey’s shoulders. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” As much as the episodes with J.D. freaked her out to remember, she didn’t want to unload them on her mother now. Not when she already seemed hell-bent on revenge.
“I just...hate him for hurting Megan.”
J.D. had helped his father shove both Meg and Mrs. Finley into a van. They’d duct-taped Meg’s wrists and ankles. Gagged her. That was plenty of reason to want J.D. behind bars.
“Are you sure that’s all?” Her mother’s voice lowered to a whisper. She sounded scared. And scary.
Making Bailey feel really, really alone. Sure, she had a porch full of groceries. But now more than ever, she felt like her mom had checked out on her and left a flighty substitute behind. Maybe her mother had always been immature. Or maybe her affair had brought out the worst in her. But either way, she didn’t want to confide in this woman. Hazel might still love her, but Bailey wasn’t so sure.
“I’d just be happy to see justice done. There should be consequences for what he did to Megan. So if you know anything about him, or if you can help Sheriff Reyes in any way—”
“I will.” Her mother straightened, and for a moment, with her expression certain and her voice calm, she seemed like Mom again. “I promise you, Bailey, I will speak to the sheriff about what I know, and I will find a time to speak to Kate Covington when she’s not in a mood to rip my head off. Because I guarantee she’s got the goods that can send Jeremy to jail.”
“Really?” That sounded okay. But Bailey knew darn well that Mrs. Covington wouldn’t do anything that would get J.D. in trouble.
Bailey might be the only one who could testify to what a brute J.D. could be, and that made her stomach hurt. She’d left school today before she could look for other girls he might have pushed around. Or worse.
But she’d start asking questions tomorrow. There had to be someone else.
“Really. Jeremy Covington crossed the wrong woman.” Her mother pressed a kiss to Bailey’s forehead. “You’ll see. I can’t fix everything, but I can do that much.”
She nodded, feeling chilled all of a sudden. “You’d better go before Dad gets home.”
“I know.” Her mom leaned down to hug Hazel. “Will you hold on to Hazel so she’s not as sad when I go?”
“Sure.” Bailey nodded even as the dog whimpered and stamped her paws anxiously.
“Things will get better.” Mom bit her lip. Hesitated. Then walked quickly toward the front of the house and her waiting car.
Bailey watched her leave, arms around Hazel’s neck, her face half-buried in the dog’s soft fur. Her eyes burned a little, and she reminded herself that her mother had lied to everyone, cheated on her father and hurt Bailey’s best friend—betraying Bailey deeply in the process. But in spite of everything, she couldn’t escape the unsettling fact that the dog wasn’t the only one sad to see her mom go.
“Come on, Hazel.” She tucked a hand under the setter’s collar, pulling her toward the porch.
Her tail wag slowed. Stopped. Started again as she turned hopeful dark eyes up to Bailey.
It was hard to watch.
“Come on.” She tried again to move Hazel. “I bet there are treats for you in those bags, too.”
A sudden creak of twigs and a rustle in the nearby woods startled her. Hazel pivoted, on high alert. The dog sniffed the wind and barked, her fur standing up on end along her back.
Panic jolted Bailey. Letting go of the dog, she hustled up the steps and into the screened porch.
“Who’s there?” The words came out even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Her voice sounded like someone else’s.
What if J.D. had come here to hurt her?
“Bailey?” a male voice called.
It didn’t sound like J.D.
She turned toward the voice even as she locked the screen door behind her, leaving Hazel to deal with the intruder.
“Bailey, it’s me.” The guy sounded nervous. He didn’t come any closer with an animal growling at him. “Is your dog going to bite?”
Dawson.
Relief rained over her.
“Hazel, stay,” she commanded, reaching into a nearby grocery bag for dog biscuits. “I’ve got a treat for you, but you have to sit.”
She hoped her pet would hear that she was relaxed. Not threatened. She shook the box of biscuits. Hazel sat down immediately, tail thumping.
Thank goodness. Bailey ditched the blanket that she’d had draped around her, tossing it on a padded wicker chair near the door.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t know who it was.” She edged out the door again, waving Dawson closer as she gave Hazel a treat. “What are you doing out there?”
Now that the fear had faded, her heart beat faster for other reasons all together.
He wore a gray hoodie and cargo shorts and he pushed a bright green bicycle through the damp grass as he came toward her.
“I didn’t get your number, and I wanted to talk to you.” He rested the bike against the back of the outdoor fireplace. “Is it okay if I leave this here?”
“Sure.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her pink sweats, wishing she didn’t look like she’d just rolled out of bed. Her long-sleeved T actually was a thermal pajama top, now that she thought about it. “My dad will be home any second, though. Is it okay if I introduce you when he gets here?”
“Of course.” He held his hand out for Hazel to inspect. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”
“I don’t know. You rode through the woods. I thought maybe you were trying not to be noticed or something.”
“No.” After Hazel showed her approval, Dawson scratched her neck. “The woods are the shortest path between our houses.”
“Right.” Puzzled about his trip, she waited for him to offer some explanation for what he wanted to talk to her about. “You were so quiet when you dropped me off before, I’m surprised you still want to talk to me.”
“Sorry for that. I wasn’t sure what to say to you then.” Straightening from petting the dog, he gave her his full attention.
Her mouth went dry. “Am I that hard to speak to?”
Her voice sounded high and strange. But then, she was nervous.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk about what was bothering you, and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” He seemed serious. Not flirting with her. But like he had something on his mind.
She tried not to be disappointed about that.
“No?” She didn’t know what to say. Because, obviously, the last thing she wanted to talk about was the crap storm of problems she’d run from this morning at school.
“But I thought about it more after I got home.” He scraped a hand through his dark hair, and she noticed a scar on his forehead that shone white in the moonlight. “Thought about you. And I just had to come back and talk to you.”
“I don’t understand.” Her heart slugged hard in her chest. Curiosity mingled with worry as her father’s headlights turned into the driveway out front. Hazel barked, and the dog sped off to greet her dad.
Dawson lowered his head along with his voice to speak closer to her ear. “How many people know your last boyfriend hit you?”
* * *
HE TRIED NOT to think about her secrets.
Sam didn’t want the pending Covington trial to come between him and Amy yet, so he forced the thoughts out of his head with an effort while they finished their impromptu picnic on a blanket spread over the living room floor.
“I was going to cook for you tonight,” he told her between rounds of peekaboo with his son.
Today the peek game involved lifting Aiden up over his head, then slowly lowering him into his field of vision. This elicited drooly smiles and cooing from the baby while he gummed at three fingers. The kid was too dang cute.
“Good parenting doesn’t always leave time for good cooking.” She poured him a glass of wine from a forgotten stash of Chianti he hadn’t known was in the pantry. “Nice job making the more important choice.”
With her shoes off and her sweater sleeves rolled up, she looked at home and comfortable here in his house. In his life. Her clothes—layers of dark garments that ensured no hint of skin showed from her neck down except for her hands—still seemed at odds with the vibrant woman he remembered. Her auburn hair hadn’t changed, though. He’d liked running his fingers through it when he kissed her.
“It is cool to spend some time with the little guy.” He’d given Aiden a bath and put him in sleeper pj’s while Amy had prepped dinner. He’d thought that would mean opening a pizza box, but she’d gone to a lot more trouble than that.
She’d dragged out some mismatched wineglasses—one of which had been on his mantel since it had been part of a golf tournament trophy from a long time ago—and made them suitable for use. She’d used some kind of magic to find salad ingredients in the fridge, and the resulting spinach, curled carrot strips and walnut salad had been damned good.
“Thanks for doing this.” He laid Aiden on a baby blanket near the bright quilt with the remnants of their dinner, tucking him under a play gym of red-and-black toys. “I know you already gave up a lot of the day to be with me.”
She topped off her own wine, too, a lock of red hair skimming her cheek as she moved. “I was intrigued to see if this evening could possibly be as much fun as the afternoon.”
“Not everyone would call being on the scene of an arrest fun.”
“That’s definitely not the part of the day I had in mind.” She settled herself on the floor beside him, their backs against the leather couch while they kept Aiden in view.
The reference to their kiss heated his blood to a slow, steady simmer. He was in no position to start something with Amy, not with an eight-week-old at his feet. But maybe it was too late to put the brakes on an attraction that had dug into him a long time ago.
“Glad you could look beyond the showdown in the parking lot.” He’d dated women who were put off by his job—the dangers, being put out when he had to respond to emergency calls, the decreasing community respect for the uniform. So it made him glad that Amy wasn’t rattled by what she’d witnessed this afternoon. “I had hoped Kate would explain what prompted the argument, but no such luck.”