Risking further annoyance, he said, "How do you know?"
Cassidy frowned, got in the car, and slammed the door, narrowly missing his fingers.
She might be pissed at his suggestion, but he'd given her something to think about—something they both needed to think about.
Eighteen
Hunter's unwelcome suggestions ran around Cassidy's head as they drove back to his apartment. While she couldn't deny that Molly could have hated the Faulkners enough to kill Donald or burn down their house, she couldn't imagine Molly coming after her. And Molly had looked shocked when she saw her in the church. That had felt completely genuine.
Maybe that was because she had tried to kill her the night before.
She frowned at that thought. No. That was crazy. Molly didn't have a motive to hurt her. She'd been the only friend that Molly had had at the Faulkners. If she was on some sort of crusade now to erase her past, she'd go after David or Jeremiah or Quan—maybe Geralyn.
"Let me know which voice in your head wins," Hunter said dryly, as he pulled into his garage.
"It's a tie at the moment. I don't think Molly would have any reason to hurt me or even know where I was yesterday."
"We did stop in at the store where she sells her jewelry. The clerk could have alerted her. She might have even seen us go down the street and into Jack's. If Molly lives anywhere near the store where she sells her jewelry, she could have followed us to the bar, and then here."
"And waited for me to leave? And then stayed on my tail all the way to Half Moon Bay? Why? What reason would she have to try to run me off the road? We didn't say anything to the clerk beyond the fact that we were looking for Molly. You're wrong, Hunter."
"Well, it wouldn’t be the first time."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that so bluntly. I know you're just trying to help." She got out of the car and they walked out of the garage together. As they reached the sidewalk, she said, "I'm hoping Lindsay doesn't spring out of the bushes again."
"I don't think that's going to happen."
Despite his words, she couldn't help noticing that Hunter took a good look around before opening the door to his building. They made their way up the stairs to his apartment without incident. Once inside, he turned the dead bolt.
She wandered over to the window that faced the street and looked outside. Was someone following her now? They had to have done that last night. How else would they have gotten on her tail? But everything out front looked quiet, normal, a typical Sunday afternoon.
"See anything?" Hunter asked, coming up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist.
"No." She turned in his embrace, so she could look into his eyes. "But I was just going over what you said about someone following me from here to the highway, and it feels like we're leaving out the most obvious person—Lindsay."
Surprise arched his brows. "You think Lindsay tried to run you off the road?"
She shrugged. "She didn't like that we were together."
"Still…"
"You don't think she has it in her?"
"I don't. Trying to run someone off the road is an aggressive, violent, dangerous act. Does that really describe Lindsay?"
"You probably knew her better than I did," she said, hearing the edge in her voice.
"I like it when you're jealous," he said, with a gleam in his eyes. "But I think one of the guys we saw last night is a better suspect for last night's attack."
"Jeremiah always had an ugly temper," she murmured.
"And you made it clear you were against Geralyn, which none of the guys wanted to hear."
"It is easier to believe it was one of them." She put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm tired."
He stroked her hair. "I know. I should have let you get more sleep last night. But you're too damned beautiful."
She lifted her head and smiled. "And you're too damned handsome. I don't have any regrets. Last night and this morning were amazing, but I might need a nap."
"It's a good thing my bed is not very far away."
"I want to sleep, not to…you know."
"I'd let you sleep…for a while." He brushed her cheek with his finger, a warm, gentle, sensuous gesture that pushed the idea of a nap way down on her to-do list.
"Before or after?" she teased.
He lowered his head and gave her a tender kiss. "I could leave that to you."
As she was debating her answer, Hunter's phone began to buzz. "You should get that. It could be Max."
He pulled the phone out of his pocket and frowned. "It's not Max. It's my mother. I'm sure it can wait. It's probably some wedding problem."
"Go ahead and take it. I'm going to lie down for a bit. You can join me when you're done."
"All right."
As she wandered into his bedroom, she heard him say, "Hi, Mom." A pause was followed by some defensive words: "I know you called me last night, but I was a little busy. Yes, it involved Cassidy. And, yes, I know what I'm doing."
She smiled to herself and then shut the door. She not only wanted to give him privacy, she also didn't want to accidentally hear what his mom thought of her now. She'd had a good relationship with Sharon in high school, but clearly Hunter's mom was now worried about her reappearance in Hunter's life. She couldn't blame Sharon. She was a little worried, too.
Being with Hunter again was a dream come true, and he seemed to feel the same way, but were they both just living a dream? A dream that would eventually end? It seemed likely.
She didn't want to think about that now. Climbing into Hunter's bed, she snuggled under his covers, smelling his scent on the pillow under her cheek. Closing her eyes, she told herself she'd just take a little cat nap. And then they could figure out what to do next.
* * *
Hunter had more in mind than a nap when he walked into his bedroom, but Cassidy was fast asleep, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. He gently closed the door and went into the living room.
Taking a seat at his kitchen table, he opened up his computer and checked his email. There was nothing of importance. Tapping his fingers restlessly on the keyboard, he typed in the name Kenna and jewelry designer. A website popped up.
He leaned forward, curious to learn more about Molly, aka Kenna. Her behavior at the church, the mad dash down the street, and her evasive answers in the alley, had left him with a bad feeling in his gut. He didn't know what her truth was, but he didn't think they'd heard it yet.
Whatever had gone wrong in her past, a lot seemed to be going right in her present. She had definitely made a life for herself now, and she was very talented.
He flipped through the jewelry designs, moving to the page that described herself. There wasn't more than a paragraph, but it talked about how Kenna had learned about jewelry making and the legends of silver and turquoise as handed down from her grandmother. She talked about her love of the elements: earth, fire, and water, and how she used them in her jewelry. She spoke about rebirth, cleansing the soul, letting go of the past, opening up to new opportunities. There was no mention of her actual parents or her past.
Clicking out of her website, he tried to find her on social media, but her business page under Kenna Designs only featured her jewelry, with no personal posts. She obviously liked to stay out of the spotlight. He wasn't surprised. People like Molly and Cassidy had learned the hard way that staying in the shadows was the best way to survive.
As he closed his computer, his phone rang. He was not happy when Lindsay's name popped up. He didn't really want to talk to her again, but maybe she had information he needed. "Hello."
"Hi Hunter. Can you talk? Is Cassidy there?"
"I can talk. I'm alone." He didn't mention that Cassidy was sleeping in his bed. He didn’t think that would go over well.
"Good. It was a little awkward last night, and I wanted to apologize for showing up at your door like that. Obviously, I put you in an uncomfortable situation."
"It was fine."
"Are you sure? Cassidy didn't seem happy to see me, and yet we were good friends at one time."
"She has a lot on her mind."
"Like Tommy, I know. She really loved him."
He suspected that Lindsay's words were meant to be a reminder to him that Cassidy had chosen Tommy over him. It had been the previous theme of many of their conversations back then. It had taken him a long time to realize that Lindsay had used Cassidy and Tommy to get close to him, to become his confidant.
"Hunter?"
Her voice brought him back to the present. "Did you want something, Lindsay?"
"I'd like to have a conversation with you. I've thought about you over the years. I'd love to catch up."
"This isn't the best time for that."
"Because Cassidy is back?"
"Because I'd like to know what happened to Tommy, and that's all I'm thinking about at the moment."
"Well, I would like to find that out, too. I got to thinking last night that I might know something. I don't want to get into it over the phone. Could we meet somewhere?"
"If we meet, I'll be bringing Cassidy with me. We're working together, Lindsay."
"Working together, or back together?"
"Why don't you just tell me what you have to say?"
"You're not going to like it."
"Just say what you have to say." Had she always been this cagey and annoying?
"All right. When we were in high school, Cassidy used my computer one day to research poisonous herbs. I didn't realize what she was doing until after she left, and then I just thought it was for a homework assignment. But now I wonder if she didn't poison Tommy. It could have been accidental. She might have meant it for someone else."
"What the hell are you talking about?" He was incensed by her words. "Are you actually suggesting that Cassidy killed Tommy?"
"I'm just telling you that she was looking that stuff up. You never wanted to believe anything bad about her, but I don't think she's ever been as innocent as you thought she was. Jeremiah told me that the two of them fooled around one night, too."
"You're just making up lies. Why?"
"I'm not making anything up. I'm trying to warn you."
"There is nothing you can say that would make me believe Cassidy is guilty."
"Well, the police might be more interested in hearing what I have to say."
"Is that a threat? What's your endgame, Lindsay? I go out with you and you stay quiet? Is that the deal?"
"You're making this sound so ugly. I care about you, Hunter."
"And clearly you were never Cassidy's friend."
"I was her friend. She's the one who left without a word. She left you, too. I can't believe you're so eager to trust her. It's like she put a spell on you."
"My relationship with Cassidy is none of your business. We went on a few dates a long time ago. I know you weren't happy when things ended, but why are you getting in the middle of all this? It doesn't make sense to me. You're acting like I broke up with you yesterday." He was beginning to wonder if Lindsay's motives were about getting him back into her life or if she had a completely different agenda that he just hadn't figured out yet. "Do you know who killed Tommy? Do you know what happened in that house? Do you have any real information?"
Silence followed his questions.
After a moment, she said, "I obviously know more than you do. I would have been happy to share, but I'll tell my stories to other people who are interested in hearing them. Good-bye, Hunter."
A dial tone punctuated her final words.
"Who were you talking to?" Cassidy asked, coming over to the table. "I heard you shouting."
"Sorry. That was Lindsay."
"What did she want?"
"She wanted to meet me alone. I said you and I were a package deal, and she got all bent out of shape. She started making up crazy stories."
"Like what?"
He didn't want to tell her, because it felt like Cassidy had been betrayed by so many people, but he could see she wasn't going to let it go. And maybe she had a right to know. "She said you used her computer after school one day to look up poisonous herbs."
Cassidy's brown eyes widened. "What?"
"She thinks you might have accidentally poisoned Tommy instead of your intended victim—like Geralyn or Donald, or one of the boys."
Her face paled. "Lindsay thinks I poisoned Tommy, my really good friend, and stuffed his body in the wall all by myself, in a garage that I couldn't even get into?"
"I told you it was ridiculous. But now I'm concerned as to what she's telling the police."
She sank down in the chair across from him. "Wow. Just wow."
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you. But I don't want you to be blindsided."
She met his gaze. "I thought Geralyn Faulkner was the one I had to worry about, but perhaps it's Lindsay. Maybe it wasn't that farfetched for me to suggest that she's the one who tried to run me off the road."
"Maybe not," he muttered. "She did sound a little crazy today. She also said you and Jeremiah fooled around."
"That's even more ridiculous. I hated Jeremiah. He was always mean and crude in so many ways. I wouldn't have touched him with a ten-foot pole." She paused. "Maybe you should be worried, too, Hunter. Lindsay obviously said those things to change your mind about me."
"I don't get it, though. We really didn't have that intense of a relationship, and it was so long ago. I'm sure she's loved lots of other men since then. Why is she suddenly so worked up about me? Are we missing something?"
"I don't know. Maybe." She gave him a troubled look. "How did you end the conversation with Lindsay?"
"I told her I didn't know what her endgame was but acting like a woman scorned after a few dates in high school is bizarre."
"That should have appeased her," Cassidy said dryly.
He shrugged. "I probably should have played it differently, but she pissed me off. Unfortunately, she said she was going to share her thoughts with the police since I wasn't interested in hearing them."
"That's great. She'll give the police another reason to look at me."
He heard the new worry in her voice. "I can make sure Max knows the whole story about Lindsay."
"It's good we have him on the case."
"It is."
"What else have you been doing?" She tipped her head toward his open computer. "Work stuff or…"
"I did some research on Molly/Kenna. I found her website, but nothing of significance relating to her past, although she does talk about her love of fire and water."
"It's part of her heritage. You're reading too much into it." She got up from the table and moved over to the refrigerator. "Do you have anything to drink?"
"Not sure. Whatever is there, help yourself."
Cassidy grabbed a bottle of lemonade and closed the door, pausing as she read the flyer on his refrigerator. "Hey, Hunter, I think you have something else to do today."
He groaned. "The chili cookoff at Golden Gate Park—I forgot. It's a fundraiser for an injured firefighter."
She came back to the table. "Did you know him or her?"
"I know him, but not well. He works out of another house. He'll be off his feet for a while, and he has three kids."
"Will he be all right?"
"Eventually. Not sure if he'll come back to work, but hopefully."
"I sometimes forget you have a very dangerous job."
"Honestly, most times it's not that dangerous."
"But it can be. Was it difficult for you to go into a fire after you got hurt?"
He thought about her question. "I was a bit tense my first day back, but that was more in anticipation. I'm well aware that a lot of people in my family think I have some kind of PTSD. Burke and Dylan watched me like hawks on my first shift. It probably would have bothered me more if I hadn't been so distracted by finding Tommy's remains."
"So, you don't have PTSD? You're not afraid of getting caught again in a terrible situation?
"
"You know what it really is?"
"No, but I'd like to," she said, meeting his gaze.
"When I fell down that elevator shaft and the fire was all around me, I didn't see my life flash before my eyes, but I did have a shocking moment of wondering if I'd done everything I wanted to do. It was weird, and the thought stayed with me throughout rehab. When I decided to travel, it was because that question was still running around in my head. It was like a constant restless refrain that I couldn't seem to get away from."
"Which is why you've been questioning whether you really want to be a firefighter."
"Yes. But I don't know if it's just the job I'm questioning, or if it's more than that." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sure I'll figure it out at some point. Not that I shouldn't have it figured out already. I've been in my career for seven years. It's a little late to just decide to do something else."
"It's not late at all. Being a firefighter isn't who you are; it's what you do."
"I don't know if that's true, Cassidy. When you're a firefighter, especially in my family, it's both who you are and what you do. It defines you."
"So, don't let it."
"It's not that easy."
"I didn't say it was easy. And if you want my opinion, you're looking for one simple answer, and it's more complicated than that. You probably won't be able to figure it out until you stop trying so hard."
She might have a point. "That sounds very Zen."
"I have gotten into yoga the last few years. It helps relieve my tension, stay in the moment, not worry about the past or the future. And I think maybe you need to do that, too, in regard to this big question rolling around your head. You had a near-death experience and it shook you up. It's natural for you to question your choices, the way you're living your life. But whatever you choose should be what you want. No one in your family will think differently about you if you quit."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that."
"Oh, now I get it," she said with a glint in her eyes.
Secrets We Keep GO PL Page 18