Into the Fire (14 page)

“Look at you. You don’t want your mom to know you’re with me, and you’re afraid to go inside because Linette will see us and probably tell her, right?”

“No, it’s not—”

“Cara.” He tugs on my belt loop. “You don’t have to protect my feelings. If your mom doesn’t like me, then I’ll just have to try harder to make her like me.” He leans toward me. “Because I like you.”

I lose myself in his eyes for a moment, and then his lips meet mine and I feel all the pressure of the day melt away. How can he make me feel so out of control and yet so peaceful at the same time? It’s a perfect moment… until Mom’s car pulls into the driveway.

Logan

So much for her mom not coming home for a while. Cara can’t get away from me fast enough. She nearly knocks me over, and after the spill I took onto the hood of the mailman’s car, I’m not looking forward to falling on my ass again. I stumble backward, catching myself before I take out the flower garden. Cara straightens her shirt and wipes the corner of her mouth. Imagine if we were in the middle of a make-out session like in my pool. But we were just kissing. I didn’t even have my hands anywhere but her waist. Still, Mrs. Tillman is pissed. Her eyes go straight to Cara as she gets out of the car. This is exactly why I don’t meet parents.

I gesture toward the road. “Maybe I should go.”

“You were hit by a car. I’m not sending you home to take care of yourself. My mom will just have to get over it.”

“You’d be more convincing if you weren’t shaking.”

I reach for her, but she opens the front door and ushers me inside. A car door slams right before Cara slams the front door behind us. This is so not good.

The smell of cinnamon smacks me in the face as soon as I walk inside. Bowls of potpourri litter the house. Weird. I certainly don’t mind Cara smelling like the stuff—or tasting like it—but this is bizarre. “I take it your mom has a thing for cinnamon.”

Cara shrugs a shoulder. “She says it reminds her of Christmas. It’s her favorite holiday.”

“I’ll have to tell her we have that in common.” As if it will make a difference. It’s obvious she’s already written me off.

Linette walks into the living room carrying her purse and keys. “Cara, you’re late. I have to get to—” She stops and her eyes fly back and forth between me and Cara. “Logan, what a surprise. I was just on my way to your house.”

“No rush. Whenever you get there. It’s not like my dad will know or care.”

“Just the same, I hate to be late.” She turns to Cara. “Does your mom know—” The front door opens, and Mrs. Tillman bursts in. “Ah, Elisa, just the person I need to talk to.” Linette grabs her arm and leads her into the kitchen.

“That went well.” Tears form in Cara’s eyes, making me regret the joke. “Hey.” I gently stroke her arm. “It’ll be fine.”

“I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m so sorry.”

Linette comes out of the kitchen, her eyes falling on Cara. “Your mother would like to speak to you in the kitchen. Logan, how about I give you a ride home?”

I nod, but Cara shakes her head. “No. I’m not letting this happen. She’s not going to drive you out of here. Not without me.”

“Cara.” Linette’s tone is pleading.

“I’m sorry, Linette. Thank you for the offer, but I’m going to take Logan home myself.”

“Your car isn’t even here. It’s really no big deal.” Her arm is unusually hot under my hand, giving new meaning to the expression hot with rage.

“Rachel’s bringing it, remember?” She turns toward Linette, and my hand falls to my side. “Goodbye, Linette.”

Linette sighs. “Good luck.”

As soon as Linette’s gone, I’m wishing I went with her. Dealing with parents is not my thing. “Maybe I should wait outside. Your mom really doesn’t seem to want me here.”

Cara steps toward me, reaching for my hand, but she stops. “Give me five minutes. Then I’ll drive you home.”

I nod, knowing these are going to be five really long minutes. I go outside and sit down on the porch steps. It doesn’t take long for the yelling to start, and I’m willing to bet neither of them has a clue the living room window is open.

“I told you not to see that boy anymore. You know how dangerous this is.” Cara’s mom thinks I’m dangerous? What the hell is that about?

I jump when Cara’s car pulls into the driveway. I try to look like I haven’t been eavesdropping, but Rachel raises an eyebrow at me as she steps out of the car. “Does Cara know you’re here?”

“Yeah. She and her mom are…” I gesture toward the house. There’s a pause in the yelling, but it doesn’t last long.

Rachel leans toward the window. “What’s going on?”

“World War Three.”

“Over you?”

“Apparently.” I shove my hands in my pockets.

Her eyes narrow, accusingly. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing.” I’m so sick of people accusing me of things and hating me for no reason. I get enough of that at home from Dad. “I got hit by a car while protecting Cara from a pretty vicious stray dog. I guess that makes me dangerous, according to Mrs. Tillman. I don’t get it, so if you do, please explain it to me.”

“You were hit by a car? Protecting Cara?” Her words come out slowly, like she’s having trouble processing them. Her expression softens, and I nod. “So, Cara’s okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“Good. Because I meant what I said at the school.”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone in this town is one big freakin’ family, and I’m just the outsider.”

She shakes her head and smacks me playfully on the arm. “You’re not an outsider. Not to Cara. And seeing as how you saved her today, you kind of won me over, too. Tell Cara I put the spare key back in the visor.” She nods toward the house. “And let me know if there’s anything I can do to smooth things over for you.” She waves and walks away.

“Hey,” I call after her.

She turns and keeps walking backwards. “What?”

“You walking home?”

She shrugs. “Tell Cara she owes me one. I’ll take a date with her brother once he’s good and kissable again.” She winks and walks off.

Rachel’s definitely odd, but I need her on my side. I lean back toward the window, wondering what I missed.

“He was hit by a car! I’m not letting him go home on his own.”

“Then I’ll drive him.”

“No! My God! That’s beyond humiliating.”

“Then take Jeremy with you.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Very. He needs to start getting used to being around people again.”

He couldn’t have been cooped up with mono for so long that he forgot how to act around people, but he was acting strange at the falls, avoiding everyone but Cara. Is there something more going on with him than just recovering from mono?

“Fine. Jeremy can chaperone.”

I back away from the door as footsteps come my way. Cara steps outside and immediately notices the open window. “Oh God. Did you hear all that?” Her face pales. “I’m so sorry.”

I wave it off. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. She’s being completely—ugh!” Her face turns as red as the streaks in her hair.

Jeremy steps out onto the porch. “Mom said I have to go for a ride with you guys.”

Cara rolls her eyes. “You’re sitting in the back.”

Jeremy shrugs at me and follows us to the car. I get in the passenger seat, not saying a word. That’s pretty much how it stays, too, until we get to Monique’s. “You know what? Let me off here.”

“Why?” Cara pulls into a spot out front and looks at me. “You really need to go home and lie down.”

“I feel fine. Just hungry. Linette’s only been at my house for a few minutes. I don’t want her worrying about feeding me. I’ll grab a bite and walk the rest of the way.”

“Logan—”

I reach across the center console and touch her leg. Jeremy stiffens in the back seat. Ridiculous. All I touched was her shorts. What would he do if I touched her thigh? I pull my hand away and reach for the door. “If you want, you can call me later to make sure I got home all right.”

“I will.” She sighs, and I’m hoping it’s because she wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss her—if it weren’t for our chaperone.

“Bye.” I smile at her.

Cara waits for me to sit down at a table before she pulls away. It’s nice to know she cares so much. I’m not used to that, at least not since Mom died.

It feels like forever before Monique comes out. “Logan.” She jumps and puts her hand to her chest. “Dear God, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” Why is she so jumpy? I look around and notice I’m the only one at the café. “Oh, are you closed?” A lot of upscale restaurants in New York close between lunch and dinner, but it must be dinnertime by now, and this definitely isn’t New York.

“Yes. Didn’t you hear?” She steps closer, and I see the redness in her eyes. “You remember Henry, right?”

“Henry Baker.” I scrunch up my face, expecting to make her laugh. Instead, tears stream down her cheeks. What the hell? “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

It sure doesn’t feel that way.

She wipes her face and takes a deep breath. “Henry died today.”

Died? He wasn’t that old. Did it have to do with his head injury? Man, I hope not since I made fun of his little memory trick about thirty seconds ago. “I’m sorry. He was really nice.”

She sighs. “He was a crazy old bat, but he had a heart of gold. Came in here every morning. We’d become good friends.”

In New York people died every day. Or at least, it seemed that way. But in a small town like Ashlan Falls, it’s different. Henry Baker wasn’t just a stranger Monique served food to. He was family.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“That’s sweet of you to ask, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine. I always am.”

How many people has Monique lost in her life? “I could help you set up for dinner or something.”

“No, I’m fine. More worried about Nick Fitzpatrick. Poor boy found Henry’s body.”

“Cara’s friend?”

“That’s the one. You know him?”

“Yeah.” Poor guy. I’ve only seen a corpse once, at my uncle Albert’s funeral, and I still can’t get over how waxy he looked. Mom always said the dead looked peaceful, like they were sleeping, but I don’t agree at all. Dead doesn’t look good on anyone. That’s why I insisted Mom have a closed casket. I didn’t want to see her like that.

Monique shakes with the threat of tears as she inhales. “If you see Nick, will you tell him I have an ice cream sundae with his name on it? It won’t make up for what he’s been through, but Nick does love his ice cream.”

“Sure thing.”

I take off down the sidewalk, whipping my cell out and dialing Cara in the process. To hell with her mom not liking me. Cara needs to know about this.

“Hello?” Her voice is choked with tears. Either she and her mom were at it again or she already heard about Henry.

“I have some bad news.”

She sniffles. “If it’s about Mr. Baker, I just heard. Monique called my mom while I was driving you home.”

“I should’ve known Monique would call you guys. She just told me.”

“Isn’t it awful? I can’t understand why anyone would want to murder him.”

I stop short. Monique didn’t mention it was murder. “Why do you think he was murdered?”

“Mom said he was stabbed.”

“Holy shit! Nick must be freaking out.”

“Nick? Why?”

“Monique said he was the one who found Henry.”

“
My
Nick?”

Her Nick? I don’t like the sound of that. “If you mean the guy who met us at the falls, then yeah.”

“Oh God! I better go call him and make sure he’s okay.”

“No, wait!” Yeah, I’m being that guy. The one who’s more worried about his girlfriend calling another guy than the fact that someone was murdered. How do I stop her without sounding as threatened as I really am? I suck at this relationship stuff. “He probably turned off his phone. I bet everyone’s been calling him. Let’s go over there. That way we can check up on him in person, see how he’s really doing.”

“That’s sweet of you, Logan.”

Yeah, not at all.

“I’ll meet you at the café. I want to check on Monique, too. She’s probably even more upset than Mom. Give me fifteen minutes.”

I hang up and sit down on the curb. I could walk back to the café and wait there, but I’m afraid Monique will come talk to me and start crying again. I’m not ready to deal with that, at least not on my own. Cara will know what to do. I’ll wait until the fifteen minutes are almost up and then walk to the café.

I feel like an idiot sitting there, watching cars go by. I put on my leather jacket and think of Mom. I was in school when I found out about the accident. The principal called me out of class, and as soon as I saw the grief counselor with him, I knew it was bad news. I replay the events of that day in my mind until I hear Cara call my name. I look up at her, feeling moisture in my eyes. Crap. She can’t see me like this. I stand up and remove my jacket, blinking to stop the tears. “It’s really hot out today.”

She stares at me, not fooled at all. “I’m so sorry. This is probably really hard on you, huh? Were you thinking about your mom?”

Damn, she can read me like a book. “No, I—” What’s the use? I nod. “Let’s go check on Monique.”

“I already did. Let’s go to Nick’s. I’m sure he needs us more right now.” I can’t help thinking she doesn’t want to be seen with me. I know the only reason her mom let her come out was because she thought Cara was going to Nick’s alone, or maybe with Rachel.

Nick’s house isn’t far, so we walk. I think we both want to burn off some energy. Things like murder really get your blood pumping. We walk in silence, and I must look like crap, because Cara takes my hand in hers. That makes me feel worse because guys aren’t supposed to be weak. Dad didn’t even shed a tear at Mom’s funeral. He told everyone that Mom wouldn’t have wanted him to grieve. I had to run to the bathroom twice to cry into a bunch of paper towels.

Cara points out Nick’s house and jealousy creeps through me again. Rob’s a tool, but Nick seems all right. Not good enough for Cara, but then again, I’m not either.

She squeezes my hand quickly before letting go. Does she not want Nick to see us holding hands? She knocks on the door, and we wait for what seems like forever. No answer.