Secrets We Keep GO PL

by Barbara Freethy

  "What do you get?" he asked warily.

  "You don't want to look like a coward. You took the temporary job, so people won't think you're afraid to fight fire, even though you might not want to do it for a completely different reason. But first you have to prove your bravery, maybe not just to your family and friends but also to yourself. Then you can walk away."

  He frowned as she very concisely articulated some of the thoughts going through his head.

  "Well?" she prodded. "Am I close or way off base?"

  "You might be close," he conceded.

  "You're not a coward, Hunter."

  "I would be a quitter. And I never quit."

  "Choosing a different path isn't quitting. Has no one in your family ever left the department?"

  "Aiden did. He got hurt when he was smokejumping and then he fell in love and decided he didn't want to spend so much time away from Sara."

  "Do you judge him for that?"

  "No, but—" He wanted to say that was different, but he couldn't. "You're good, Cassidy."

  "And you'll figure things out, Hunter."

  "I know I will. I've actually been rolling a crazy idea around in my head."

  "Really? What is it?"

  "You'll think I've lost my mind."

  "I seriously doubt that. But let's hear it."

  "There's a piece of land in the Santa Cruz mountains that I've had my eye on for a while. There's a big house and a barn, and the property would make a great camp for kids. It's close to the city. The ocean is nearby. There are plenty of trails for hiking, rock climbing."

  "It sounds great."

  "I'd like to do a couple of free weeks for underprivileged kids and then run regular sessions as well. Maybe include a camp for kids with special needs. My cousin Nicole's son Brandon is autistic, and I know camp is hard for him." He took a breath, thinking about the property. "I could get construction help from my uncle and my dad and my cousins to remodel the house and maybe even add a few other cabins. There's plenty of room." As he spoke, the excitement grew within him.

  Cassidy gave him a pleased smile. "I love it. And it's perfect for you. You're great with kids. You've always been like the Pied Piper; people want to follow you. You could make an amazing camp."

  He liked her unconditional support.

  "But practically speaking, it would cost a lot of money just to get the land and then to remodel. I'd have to find investors, take out a loan, and what do I know about running a camp?"

  "You could learn everything you need to know. And maybe you could get investors. You have a lot of connections through your family. If you include at-risk kids, there might be foundations willing to get involved as well."

  "Then you don't think it's totally crazy?"

  "Not even a little bit. This reminds me of how excited you were when we planned to be camp counselors in Yosemite. You used to tell me how much you loved going to camp when you were a kid."

  "I do have great memories of those camps."

  "Is the land for sale?"

  "It's going to be. The person who owned the property recently passed away, and the family wants to sell."

  "How did you find it?"

  "I went through Santa Cruz on my way to South America, and on an off-road impulsive adventure, I discovered the place."

  "If that's not fate, I don't know what it is," she said. "And, by the way, it's kind of funny to hear you say you went through Santa Cruz on your way to South America, as if they're anywhere close."

  He grinned. "You know what I meant."

  "You should do it, Hunter."

  "I'll keep thinking about it. Thanks for listening."

  "Always. It's not like you haven't done more than your fair share of listening to me." She paused. "Changing the subject…"

  "Go ahead."

  "I'm thinking that I should go home, and you should go to your fundraiser."

  Frowning, he didn't like that idea at all. "I have a better idea. Why don't you come with me to the park? You can meet my friends."

  "Will your family be there, too?"

  "Some of them," he said with a nod, not sure why a shadow suddenly passed through her eyes. "Is that a problem?"

  "They probably don't think much of me after the way I bailed on you."

  "That was a long time ago, Cassidy."

  "And I don't think they've forgotten. I heard you talking to your mom earlier. I could tell she was warning you not to get involved with me again."

  "It wasn't exactly like that. And once I have a chance to fill them in on the part of your story they don't know, they'll understand exactly why you had to leave."

  "I'll wait until that happens. I know you probably don't think it's a big deal, but I'm not up for facing a bunch of angry Callaways."

  "It wouldn't be like that. They might be protective of me," he conceded. "But they would never be cruel to you."

  "I'm sure you're right, but I'm feeling very…emotional right now. There's a lot going on. It's a little overwhelming."

  "I get that. I'm in this thing, too. In the end, it doesn't matter what my family thinks—only what I think."

  She gazed back at him, a question in her eyes. "What do you think, Hunter? Wait. Never mind. Don't answer that."

  "Why don't you want me to answer?" He was surprised by her sudden backtrack.

  "Because…I'm not sure what I want you to say."

  She didn't know what she wanted him to say? Why the hell not? "You want to explain that?"

  "Last night, we were living in the moment, or maybe we were living in the past, I don't know. Our relationship is complicated. You told me not to overthink it, and I think…that we should just let things be and not involve any other people."

  He didn't really care for the idea. "That sounds like you have one foot out the door, Cassidy."

  "I wouldn't say that, but I don't know where this is going."

  "Where do you want it to go?"

  She couldn't seem to come up with an answer, and her shrug irritated the hell out of him. But that was Cassidy. She always kept her thoughts a secret. He hadn't realized that when they were teenagers, but he did now. "Why do you have to hide from me?"

  "I'm not hiding," she snapped. "Let's not do this now. There's too much else going on. You have your fundraiser to get to, and I have things to do at my house. We can talk tomorrow."

  "I start a twenty-four hour shift tomorrow at seven a.m."

  "Then we'll talk Tuesday."

  "Hang on," he said, getting to his feet. "Is this the way it's always going to be?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You get scared. You feel cornered. And then you run. But you don't have to run away from me. You don't have to hide your thoughts." He wasn't just talking about the present; he was also talking about the past.

  "You're pushing me, Hunter, and I don't like it. I don't know what this is. I don't know what I want it to be. You like to be in control of everything, but when I left before, I vowed that I would never be under someone's control ever again. I have to be able to leave when I want."

  "I'm not trying to control you. I just want you to talk to me, to trust me with your feelings. The way I just trusted you when I shared something very personal. It's a two-way street."

  Her gaze was pained. "I know that's the way you see it. But love is control. It's powerful. You can get lost in it. You can make stupid decisions. And it hurts like hell when it ends."

  "Not all love ends."

  "That hasn't been my experience."

  He wanted to say that their experience would be different, but could he really promise that? They couldn't even have a deep conversation. "It hasn't been mine, either," he said. "But I think it's possible. I know it's possible. I've seen it in my own family. You saw it, too—in your parents. You told me they were happy together."

  "I thought they were, but I was thirteen when they died. What did I know?"

  "Don't do that. Don't rewrite their history. I understand why you're cautious. You've been
through hell. And I probably only know a tiny bit of how that felt, because you don't share much."

  "I know I have a problem opening up," she admitted. "If I could ever let myself trust someone, it would be you. I just don't know if I can do that, or if I can promise that I'll never get scared and run, because you're right—it is what I do, and you deserve more than that." Her eyes glittered with moisture. "I have to go, Hunter."

  His lips tightened. "We're not done, Cassidy. You're still in danger, and we need to find Tommy's killer. I'm sorry I put you on the spot on the personal stuff. But don't make decisions that could put your life on the line."

  "You have things to do, and so do I." She grabbed her purse and headed toward the door. "I'll call you when I get home. I'll stay off the coast road."

  He followed her down the stairs to her van, regretting that he'd let their conversation get so off track. "I don't like this, Cassidy. We should stay together."

  "It will be fine."

  "What about Molly? What about everything else?"

  "We'll get back to all that." She drew in a breath and let it out. "I will say this. You're not wrong. I do hide my feelings. It's a habit that came from my need to survive certain situations, and it's difficult for me to change."

  "I'm not trying to change you."

  She gave him a pointed look.

  "Well, maybe a little," he conceded. "But not a lot."

  "Let's just take a little time to breathe and regroup, okay?"

  He wanted to tell her he didn't need a chance to breathe, he needed her, but she'd gotten in her van, locked the door and started the engine. All he could do was step back and let her go.

  He dug his hands into his pockets as he watched her leave. He was about to go into his house when out of the corner of his eye, he saw her van suddenly pull over two blocks away.

  Was she crying? Was something wrong? Had she changed her mind about leaving?

  After a moment's hesitation, he jogged down the block and saw her on her phone. He tapped the window, and she almost jumped out of her skin. Then she rolled it down.

  "You scared me," she said.

  "What's going on? Why did you stop?"

  "Molly just texted me. She wants to meet."

  "Well, that changes everything, doesn't it?"

  "Yes, it does."

  Nineteen

  Cassidy looked back at her phone, where Molly had sent her a brief but important text: Meet me at my studio if you want to talk. I'll be there for the next hour. An address followed.

  She was surprised. There was a part of her that hadn't thought she'd ever talk to Molly again.

  "Where does she want to meet?" Hunter asked.

  "She'll be at her studio for the next hour. That's all she says."

  "Let's go. You can drive."

  "No," she said abruptly. "I need to talk to Molly on my own."

  "Why? We went to the church together."

  "I know, but I think she'll be more forthcoming if it's just me."

  Her answer did not make him happy. "Look, Cassidy, I know that you're angry with me—"

  "I think it's the other way around."

  "Fine, but that doesn't matter. We can table the personal stuff and deal with Molly together."

  She wasn't really that upset with him. They'd had an honest and difficult conversation that had needed to be had, and they'd probably have another one at some point, but she didn't think he should be a part of her conversation with Molly. "Try to understand, Hunter. This isn't about us or me trying to keep secrets from you. I just think Molly will tell me more if it's just the two of us. She was skittish earlier today. I need to do this on my own."

  "It could be a trap, Cassidy."

  "Why would she want to trap me? Or want to hurt me? She and I were friends once. I'm the only one who looked out for her, who tried to find her. She has no motive."

  "That you know of. She could be more entangled in this situation than you realize. You don't know that she hasn't spoken to David or one of the other guys. You really don't know anything except what little she told you earlier."

  "That's why I need to talk to her now. I want to know exactly why she left the house, what the Faulkners did to her, what she knows about the other kids and the Faulkners' relatives. Maybe she had an interaction with Evan or Colin that would be significant."

  "I understand all that, but I can't forget that someone tried to hurt you last night. I know you think I'm being too controlling, but I don't care."

  The genuine concern in his eyes made her weaken. "If it will make you feel better, you can follow me to the studio. You can even walk me inside, but then you have to go. You have your fundraiser to get to anyway."

  "All right. I'll take the compromise. I'll get my car. You'll wait here?"

  "I'll wait."

  She rolled up the window as he jogged back to his building to get his car. She texted Molly: I'll be there in ten minutes.

  There was no answer, but she didn't really expect one. What they needed to talk about was not a conversation that should be had in a text.

  She set down her phone, her nerves tingling in anticipation. She'd spent so many years wondering what had happened to Molly; she was finally going to find out.

  Hunter came up behind her in his Jeep. She put Molly's address into her GPS and pulled away from the curb. It took about fifteen minutes to get to the South of Market neighborhood where Molly's studio was located.

  Her business was housed in a three-story building that appeared to be a community workspace for various designers. Since it was Sunday afternoon, there was plenty of street parking, and Hunter was able to pull into a spot directly behind her.

  As they got out and walked to the front of the building, she noticed Hunter taking a long, sweeping look around the street, but it was very quiet. Most of the buildings appeared to be closed.

  She hit the buzzer for Kenna Designs and Molly's voice came over the speaker.

  "It's Cassidy. And Hunter. He just wants to say hello and then he's going to leave."

  "All right," Molly said.

  The buzzer rang, and Cassidy quickly opened the door. The lobby was small and bare, with one elevator, but she opted for the stairs since Molly's studio appeared to be on the second floor.

  "Are you feeling better about this?" she asked Hunter, as they moved toward the stairs.

  "Not really. I'd like to stay with you."

  "I'll be okay. And you should go to your event. It's important."

  "It's not as important as this."

  She put a hand on his arm as they hit the first landing. "Hunter, wait. I want to get something straight."

  "By all means," he said, meeting her gaze.

  "I really appreciate your concern. I know you're just looking out for me. And sometimes it's hard for me to accept that someone would want to do that." She paused. "I did have a moment of panic at your house about seeing your family again, and I can't promise that I won't have another one. Hiding my thoughts is part of my armor."

  "You don't need armor when you're with me."

  "I know, but I'm…a work in progress," she said with a helpless shrug. "One who is really used to not sharing anything with anyone."

  "I get that. I'm a work in progress, too, so you're not alone."

  The tension between them dissipated as they exchanged a smile. "Let's go see Molly."

  When they got to the second floor, Molly was waiting in the doorway to her studio, her long hair pulled out of its braid and now flowing around her shoulders. "I wondered what was taking you so long," she said, a wary gleam in her dark eyes.

  "I was just saying good-bye to Hunter, but he wanted to come all the way up."

  "You used to take a long time to say good-bye," Molly said. "I sometimes spied on the two of you from the bedroom window. I didn't know how you could kiss for so long without taking a breath. It was fairly amazing."

  She flushed a little at Molly's words. "I didn't know anyone was watching."

  Molly tu
rned to Hunter. "You're still her protector, aren't you?"

  "I haven't been for a long time, but I am now."

  "Are you coming in then?"

  "Just for a second. I'd like to see your place."

  "And then Hunter is going to leave, so we can chat in private," she said, as they followed Molly into her studio.

  It was basically one large room with a divider for the bedroom area, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette. Aside from the very small living space, the rest of the room was set up to be a practical workshop. There was a desk by the window with a computer and a stack of files, where she obviously did her business. On the larger tables, there were tools and materials: hammers, pliers, wire, soldering iron, boxes of beads and other miscellaneous items, as well as big lights that could be utilized for detail work. Tall floor-to-ceiling bookshelves along the other wall housed buckets of materials as well as numerous art books.

  "This is cool," she said. "It feels very creative."

  "It works for me," Molly replied.

  "You live here, too?" Hunter asked.

  "Yes. I can't afford to rent two places, and I don't need much."

  "I'm going to take off," Hunter said, having satisfied himself that she would be safe in the studio. "I'll give you two some privacy."

  "You don't have to leave," Molly said.

  "I do," he returned. "But I'm glad you two are going to talk. Cassidy, I'll catch up with you later."

  She nodded, giving him a grateful smile.

  "He still likes you," Molly commented, as Hunter left the studio. "You still like him. So, are you together or not?"

  "I told you earlier, we just reunited a few days ago, when Tommy's body was discovered. Hunter actually found the remains. He's a firefighter. He was venting the walls in the garage."

  "That's odd and ironic, isn't it?"

  "He said it felt a little fateful," she agreed.

  "I remember when Tommy first showed up at the house. Hunter didn't like it much. You suddenly didn't have as much time for him."

  "He was a little jealous, which was ridiculous, because Tommy and I were only friends, nothing more." She paused. "But I did use Hunter's jealousy to keep him from trying to find me after I ran away. I told him I was with Tommy. It wasn't a lie; I was supposed to be with Tommy, but he changed his mind at the last minute. I guess I could have changed mine, but I didn't. I left Hunter on the day of the prom."