Behind Chocolate Bars (21 page)

He looked back at her discussing homework assignments with Erica.

“My point is, Oscar will support anything Dylan decides to do or be. He would not risk Dylan's future by hurting a woman he just started dating, no matter how awful she was.”

*   *   *

B
ean called me the next morning when Kayla and I were preparing to open. “Truffles got out again.” His voice was serious. “Can you help me find him?”

“I'll be right there.” I told Kayla what happened and that I'd be back soon.

“No prob,” she said.

I dashed out the back door and heard a meow. Coco was sitting in her spot. With Truffles, who launched himself at me as soon as I sat down. “What the—?”

I called Bean right away. “Truffles is here,” I said. “With Coco.” The kitten kept up some nonstop complaining.

He breathed out a sign of relief, and then realized that the kitten must have walked a couple of miles to get here. “Is he okay?”

“He's probably hungry and thirsty,” I said. “But he's not hurt.”

“I'll be there in a few minutes,” he said. “With the damn cat carrier.” He hung up.

I didn't want to leave Truffles outside and couldn't bring him inside the store, so I called Kayla to bring out cat food and milk for two. Truffles twisted out of my arms to attack both, but Coco took her time before settling down to eat.

I kept Truffles right next to me, so I could grab him before he tried to make another escape after his meal, and called May. “Coco's here,” I said. “Is she allowed to be outside?” No way was I tattling on Bean that Truffles was here too.

May sighed. “Yes, the vet said she's healing well enough
from her surgery, but thanks for letting me know. I'm going to be worrying about that cat the rest of my days.”

While I waited, Tommy's hearse drove up and Dylan got out of the car before it came to a halt. “What did you do?” he yelled from the parking lot.

“What do you mean?” I asked. There were so many things to choose from.

He ran over, stopping just a few feet from the porch and causing Coco to hiss, probably to protect Truffles more than me.

“You told the police that my mom did it?” His frantic voice matched his face.

“No,” I said. “I just . . .”

He took a few shaky breaths, his shoulders heaving. “You sold out my mom.”

“D
ylan, I didn't,” I insisted. “I suggested that Detective Lockett have someone ask her a few questions. That's all.”

He stared at me. Tommy got out of his car, but stayed back beside it.

“You know we're trying to help you,” I said carefully. “And your dad. I found out . . . someone was telling your mom what you and your dad were doing.”

“Well, she was questioned by the Miami police,” he said. “I hope you're happy.”

“Does she have an alibi?” I asked.

He actually grabbed his hair and pulled on it. “Yes!” He groaned. “She was in freakin' Miami.”

“Okay, then,” I said. “So it's fine.”

“No, it's not!” he said. “You brought her back into our lives! For no reason!”

Luckily Bean drove up, right to the porch. He didn't seem to realize anything was wrong until he got out with the cat carrier. “Everything okay?”

I stood up and put Truffles inside his little cage, where he immediately began to protest. “It's okay, right, Dylan?”

He turned around to walk back to the car and spoke over his shoulder. “Yeah. Just fine.”

Tommy gave me an apologetic look and got back in the car.

“What was that about?” Bean asked as they drove away.

I told him about my conversation with Yvonne and Dylan's confrontation.

“If he doesn't calm down soon, you can always send him to stay with me,” he said.

I doubted that Marino would allow Dylan to stay with a reporter, but I kept that to myself.

*   *   *

A
fter Dylan's tantrum, he'd texted Erica—not me—that he would hang out with Colleen again. Erica had kept in touch with Colleen throughout the day to make sure he was okay. He didn't go back to our house until after we'd left for the festival, and Tommy stayed with him.

Tommy was sprawled on the couch, snoring like crazy, when we let ourselves in that night, and his hearse was parked in front. Erica even checked to make sure Dylan was safely in his room, worried that he might be mad enough at us to break the rules, but he was asleep.

The were both still asleep the next morning. I groaned while putting on my running shoes. It was an overcast and
gray Thursday, and I was not in the mood for exercise. Only knowing that I was never in the mood before I actually ran made me finish tying my laces and head down to the street.

It took until the second mile to feel less like I was lifting cement legs and more like my muscles were made for this. I fell into my long-distance rhythm, where my breathing evened out and my legs pumped effortlessly. I pushed everything out of my mind, by placing one foot down on the pavement, over and over.

At the end of the fourth mile, I approached my house and saw that Tommy's hearse was gone and an unfamiliar car was parked in its place.

I picked up speed.

Oh no. It had a Florida license plate.

It had to be Dylan's mom, Gilly. What was she doing here?

I ran in the front door. “Dylan!” I was so panicked that I didn't give him a chance to answer, calling out, “Dylan!” again until I heard him say from the kitchen, “Yeah?”

I stopped in the doorway, heaving. Dylan sat at the kitchen table with his mother.

She looked at me with her lip curled. I wasn't sure if it was because I stank from sweat or because I had been acting like a lunatic.

I looked around and saw that someone had made coffee. Had Erica served Gilly coffee and made herself scarce? What was she thinking?

“How did you get here so fast?” I asked her breathlessly.

“It only takes fifteen hours to drive here,” Gilly answered. The
you moron
was silent but intended. “And there's no need to scream like that. I'm his mother, not a criminal.” She was
a tiny woman, shorter than me and way skinnier. She had designer jeans and a cropped shirt, looking pretty chic for someone who had driven all night.

I was hoping she'd let me off the hook for that misunderstanding. If I wasn't already red from exercise, I'd have blushed at her words.

“Mom,” Dylan said, as if he was incredibly embarrassed by her behavior. And she'd been back in town less than an hour. It might be a new record in the Humiliation by Mom game.

Erica came downstairs. “Michelle, have you met our
guest
, Gilly?”

“Yes,” I said. “I was just about to ask her why she was here.”

“Why, that's pretty obvious,” Erica said in a
get off her back
tone. “She's here to visit her son in his time of need. Like any mother.”

“Actually,” Gilly said, her face determined, “I'm here to take my son home with me to Florida.”

“Gilly,” Erica said, way more kindly than I would have managed. “I'm sorry, but that's not possible. He's under our protection, and you have no grounds to take him.”

“I'm his mother!” Gilly yelled.

“Mom!” Dylan yelled back.

“That is true,” Erica said. “But you gave up your legal rights in that regard, and taking him anywhere, especially across state lines, will just make the situation worse. Especially for Dylan.”

“I'm not going to freakin' Florida,” Dylan said, his eyes defiant.

With that, Gilly seemed to collapse within herself. I grabbed her, just as she was about to slide off the chair, and
eased her head between her knees, getting some blood back into her brain.

Erica held her other arm. “Dylan,” she said. “Get some water.”

We both sat on either side of her, holding on to her cold hands as she tried not to outright faint. She took several calming breaths, until she was able to sit up and take the water from her son, who looked on anxiously.

Her eyes watched him, haunted with remorse, and a longing so intense I had to look away.

There was no win-win situation here, but I knew Gilly was no threat to Dylan.

*   *   *

B
ack at the store, I grew even more worried about Leo. He hadn't called me back about the Zelini's dinner we'd talked about. I tried Star again.

She answered right away. “Yes.”

“Uh, hi, Star,” I said, stumbling at her unfriendly tone.

“I can't help you,” she said. “Your brother dumped me.”

I sucked in a breath. This was really bad. A major step backward. “When?” I demanded. “That makes no sense. He loves you.”

“Yesterday,” she said. “You haven't talked to him?”

“No,” I said, panic crawling up my spine. “Can you tell me what happened?”

She paused a moment and I could hear her draw in a deep breath. “He called to tell me that he didn't love me, and I was moving too fast for him. He wanted to take a break.”

“What a jerk,” I said. “He's making all that up.”

“I don't think so,” she said. “He meant it.”

“What did you tell him?”

“What do you think?” she said, her pain coming through the phone. “I told him he doesn't get to ‘take a break.' We're either together or we're not. And that he better not come anywhere near me again or I'd kick his ass.”

I thought about Star's biceps. She could totally do it.

*   *   *

I
couldn't get the look on Gilly's face out of my mind even while I tried to track down Leo.

We'd allowed her to spend a few hours with Dylan, and he'd texted that she left to find a motel and that he was staying at the house until Quinn came by after school.

But part of me wondered how far Gilly would go to protect her son. Would she eliminate someone she thought of as competition?

My worries didn't matter. According to the Florida police, she had a solid alibi. But I was still keeping my eye on her.

Then I got a message from Bean.
I think Leo is fishing
, he texted.

Why hadn't I thought of that? I tracked down Erica in her office and told her about Star. “Bean said Leo might be fishing. I'm heading up to Cunningham Falls.”

“Want company?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I just need to find out what's going on in his head.”

“Zane found out something disturbing about Wade Overton's Internet use,” she said. “Do you want to go over it before you leave?”

I groaned, feeling overwhelmed. “Do I have to?”

She didn't give in to my juvenile whining. “He's made a bunch of sexist comments, anonymously, of course.”

I remembered the way he'd talked about his ex-girlfriends as “chicks” and his belief that all women wanted to be “taken care of.” “Did he seem angry?”

“It's not clear,” she said.

“Maybe you can ask Bobby about that,” I suggested. “Shoot. I never called Wade's friend to confirm his alibi. I can do that on the way to the cabin.”

I told Kona what I was up to, and she gave me a sympathetic hug and wished me good luck. Everyone loved Leo. Why couldn't he feel that?

I was filled with nostalgia on the drive up into the hills surrounded by trees with red, orange and yellow leaves. My family used to rent a cabin and spend a week there almost every summer. It was rustic, but Leo and I had loved splashing in the water, climbing the rocks that had seemed like mountains back then, hiking through the woods and fishing.

I stopped at the country store that had a small restaurant attached, picking up the cheeseburgers and French fries that had been a tradition with my parents. I tried Wade's friend but it went to voice mail.

Leo often rented the same cabin, and I knew his favorite fishing spots. As I arrived, I walked over to his regular cabin, and sure enough he was sitting on the small wooden steps, his head in his hands.

“Leo?” I asked.

He raised his head, looking miserable. He didn't even seem surprised to see me.

“Worst day ever?” I asked, my voice trembling.

He didn't even crack a smile. “Not even close.” His grim voice was alarming.

I sat beside him and wrapped my arms around him. “Not even on the inside?”

“It's pretty bad on the inside,” he admitted.

“I'm worried,” I said. “You're having a hard time getting back to, I don't know, being yourself.”

“What self?” he asked.

“The Leo you've been the last year or so.”

“I'm not sure who he is.” His voice was barely a whisper.

I had no idea how to handle this conversation, but maybe it was time for tough love. I used a gentle voice. “I can tell you who he's not. He's not the Leo who clings on to a weird sense of overprotectiveness.”

He pulled away, looking a little mad.

“He's not the Leo who's so afraid to lose something that he lets go of the most precious person he's ever known.”

“You're the most precious,” he retorted.

“Okay, second most precious,” I said, trying to make a joke.

His face twisted.

I took a deep breath. “You may have forgotten, but I know who the real Leo is. He's the man who fought for his life in a field hospital in Afghanistan. He's the man who fought through the pain to learn how to walk again. And he's the man who has fought to push back the darkness to get to a sunny place. Like this one.” I looked away from his face and gestured to the sun glinting off the water. He followed my gaze.

“I know that darkness is in your head, not out here. But that sunny place is in there too.”

We sat for a minute just looking at the peaceful scene. Then a fish jumped out of the water, causing a splash. For some reason it made us both smile.

“I just—” He stopped. “I wouldn't make it back again if something happened to you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” I said. “But if it did, you would be okay. You really would.”

His frozen face returned.

“Because moments like this, just sitting in the sun watching a stupid fish jump, they make it all worth it. Those days will be there no matter what.”

His expression softened, but misery still shone through.

“You know how you joined the Marines because you wanted to protect innocent people?” I asked. “Dylan is an innocent kid, and I'm protecting him the only way I know how.”

He shook his head, not liking the comparison.

“You know how you ride that motorcycle even though it makes me crazy?” I asked.

He nodded, knowing where I was going and not liking it.

“That's how I feel when I'm trying to figure out who the bad guy, or girl, is,” I said. “Like you're riding your Harley down a country lane, full throttle, with the wind whistling by you.”

He didn't respond.

“Like when you kiss Star and your head explodes,” I said. “Those moments make the worry and the pain and the fear of life, of living, all worth it.”

Leo bit his lip, and put his head on my shoulder as if exhausted beyond endurance.

I angled my head to look into his face.

“Get her back.” I nudged his head with my shoulder. “Don't be too afraid to go after the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“How?”

I pulled a ring box out of my pocket.

“What is that?” he asked, his voice a croak.

“Open it,” I said, even though we both knew what it was.

He followed my order and our mom's engagement ring gleamed in its velvet base. The sun caught the small diamond and made it sparkle.

“That's for you,” he said.

“No, it's not,” I insisted. “It might not happen for me.” The image of Bean down on one knee flashed through my mind and I banished it immediately. “But it could happen for you. You need this ring, right now. How could Star resist you
and
this ring?”

He shook his head, even as he stared longingly at it.

“Mom and Dad would have
loved
Star.” I closed his hand over the box and squeezed. “It's meant to be. I know it.”