“How do you know that?” I straightened. It was the second time he’d alluded to the fact that he knew something he couldn’t tell me.
“Gabby, there are some things that legally I’m not allowed to mention.”
“Legally? You mean you’re representing someone involved in this fiasco? Who?”
He looked away, his jaw set. “I can’t say.”
“Riley…”
“I would if I could. But I can’t. I just know this is serious. Really serious.”
My heart squeezed. “I know.” It was so serious that my friend may have died because of it. That wasn’t something I could easily forget.
Someone else rapped at the door. This time, I knew who it was. I’d called Chad earlier and he’d promised to come home right away.
He took one look at me and shook his head. “You look terrible.”
I scowled. “Way to make my day brighter.”
“You should have called earlier.”
Riley held out his hand, and Chad shook it. “Good to see you, Chad. Thanks for coming back early.”
“Thanks for keeping an eye on Gabby. It’s a hard job.”
Riley grinned. “I can’t deny that.”
Over some coffee, I began filling Chad in. I didn’t get very far before his eyes widened and he stood.
“Sierra? Sierra’s missing? You should have called me right away.”
What was I missing here? “You were skiing. Besides, what could you do?”
“I could have helped you with this whole mess.”
“I didn’t realize you liked snooping as much as me.”
“Sierra’s our friend. I would do anything to help out.”
I nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Okay. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry? I thought I should give you space and let you do your thing. You’re a free spirit, and I didn’t want to drive you away.”
“So, what are you doing next?”
I opened my mouth, but Riley beat me to answering. “She’s not doing anything. She’s recovering.”
Chad locked gazes with me. “He’s right. I don’t want two of my friends to end up dead. You should take it easy.”
I didn’t feel up to arguing. Actually, I really just wanted to sleep. That pain medication knocked me out.
Chad stood. “I’ll go return those calls and take care of business. You don’t worry about anything, Gabby.”
I nodded, my eyes beginning to sag. As soon as he left, I laid down, unable to fight sleep any longer.
***
The next morning, Riley and I stood face to face at the door of my apartment. He pulled me close, and we practically touched foreheads as he spoke. His fingers locked behind my neck as his thumb caressed my jaw line. “Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble, Gabby.”
I nodded. “I promise. I realize that I’m in over my head.”
“Why don’t you come with me on this trip?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not up for sitting in court all day. I’ll be fine here. I’ll stay out of trouble.”
Riley’s gaze searched mine until finally he nodded, satisfied. He kissed my forehead. “I wish I could take you somewhere away from all of this so you’d be safe. The Bahamas maybe? Even Detroit sounds better right now than being here.”
“The Bahamas do sound tempting. But Detroit? Really? In the winter? Not so much.”
He smiled. “I’ll be back tonight, okay? You’ll take it easy while I’m gone, right?”
“Right-o.”
He gave me a sweet kiss goodbye and then tucked me in on the couch before leaving. I listened as he closed the door and stomped down the steps. As soon as the front door of the apartment building closed, I threw off my blanket and walked to my kitchen window. I saw Riley climb into his car and, a moment later, he pulled away.
I’d appreciated Riley’s concern for me over the past couple of days, but I was beginning to feel suffocated. Whatever Sierra had found herself in the middle of, it was serious. I had a feeling I’d just scratched the surface of this investigation. I’d figure out who did this to Sierra and see justice served.
I picked up my phone and dialed Henry—I mean, my brother’s—cell phone number. He answered on the first ring. “Hey big sis. What’s going on?”
“Tim, are you interested in dumpster diving?”
***
“So where are we going dumpster diving?”
I drove with both hands on the steering wheel, ignoring the pain pulsating through my shoulder. I wasn’t sure how much dumpster diving I was going to be able to do. I felt like walking in a straight line for five steps without bending over in pain was a huge accomplishment.
“There’s a man. His name keeps popping up in the investigation, and I think he had something to do with Sierra’s disappearance. He knows more than he’s letting on, at least.”
“Name?”
“He goes by Broken Arrow. His real name is Wayne Wood.”
“He’s an Indian?”
“Native American, little bro. Indian isn’t politically correct.”
“Whatever.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I saw Sierra talking to this Indian guy the week before she disappeared. They were whispering outside of her work. As soon I approached, the man left. Sierra looked all flustered.”
“You could have mentioned that, oh, I don’t know, last week sometime.”
“I didn’t think it was important. Sierra was always acting kind of suspicious.”
This only confirmed my thoughts that Broken Arrow was involved in this. What had he done to my friend? Was he the one who’d set up the crime scenes to make it look like Sierra was involved? Had he actually been the killer knocking off people all over town? Perhaps he was not only concerned with the land where the housing development was being built because of the burial ground; perhaps he was concerned also because he was an environmentalist. What if he’d drawn Sierra in only to make her look guilty, because he knew she’d make a good scapegoat?
It was one theory. More than I’d had before.
I pulled up outside of his apartment building—one of many similar two-story structures that stood side by side in a long row off of the parking lot. I found a space marked “visitor” and pulled in.
Tim stared at the buildings in front of us. “How’d you find out where this guy lives?”
“Easy enough. I did an Internet search. What can’t you find on the Internet nowadays?” I turned the van off and opened my door, ready to get to business.
Tim joined me as I hurried through the parking lot. “And why are you focusing on this guy?”
“Because he’s hiding something, and he knows more than he lets on.” Quite possibly, he was guilty. Certainly he was smart enough to shred his papers, so I didn’t expect to find anything incriminating there. What I wanted to search for was evidence that he’d been at those crime scenes. Maybe some ground-up acorns? A doctored picture of Sierra with bullet through her forehead? Crumpled up copies of the clues that were being left on my van? I had no idea. I just knew I had to start somewhere. Why not here?
I stopped by a dumpster next to Broken Arrow’s apartment. “Show me how it’s done, little bro.”
Tim hopped up on the dumpster like he’d done it a million times before—probably because he had. “Here goes.”
He jumped into the trash bags inside. I could smell the scent of decay and rot scatter around me. Wow. How could anyone do this?
Something inside the dumpster clattered against the metal sides. I shushed Tim and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one was in sight—yet. “We’ve got to keep it down. Isn’t this illegal?”
“Not if they don’t catch you.”
I crossed my arms. “Nice.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Something of Broken Arrow’s.”
“And I’ll know what that is how?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”
He held up one bag. “Does he have a baby? This one ha
s diapers.”
“No, no baby.”
He jerked another bag up. “This person is married, lives with a woman or actually is a woman.”
I squinted at the bag. “How do you know?”
He stared at the bag. “Let’s see. There’s some hair dye, some fancy shampoo, and yogurt. No self respecting guy eats yogurt.”
“Points taken. No, I don’t think he’s married or living with anyone.”
He disappeared again and reappeared with a pair of shoes. “Hold these. I think they’re my size.”
He tossed the shoes into my hands, and I fumbled with them like some people would have fumbled with a dead rodent. Who knew where these shoes had been? Or what they’d been lying in? “Really, Tim?”
“Really. There’s nothing wrong with those sneakers.”
Why argue? I put the shoes down beside me. “Just don’t pull up any food and say you’re going to eat it.”
His head popped up for long enough to give some commentary. “People throw away a lot of food that’s perfectly good.”
I held up a hand. “That’s fine. I don’t want to hear about it, though.”
He dove back into the trash and emerged with another “treasure.” “This one must be the family with the baby. Talcum powder.”
He started to toss the bag over his shoulder when I stopped him. “Wait. Sierra uses talcum powder. She said it’s better for the environment or something.”
“It is. Talcum powder—”
“Tell me later. Please. Right now, toss me that bag.”
As I caught it, something wet drizzled down my arm. Disgusting. I pushed aside those thoughts and pulled the bag open.
Let’s see what was inside this one. A plastic carton that had contained organic spinach. A package of soybean “hot dogs.” My heart sped up. Could she have been here? Or was this just someone else who was a conscientious eater?
Something shined at the bottom of the bag. I reached down and pulled it up.
It was Sierra’s name tag.
My heart thudded. Sierra had been here. What had Broken Arrow done to her? And why?
“What is it, Gabby?”
I held up the plastic-covered tag. “She’s been here.”
“Hey! What are you kids doing down there?” A man stood at the entranceway of the alley. Based on his speech and slight frame, he wasn’t Broken Arrow.
Tim hopped out of the dumpster in one fluid motion and grabbed my hand. “Come on. Let’s run!”
We took off down the alley, heading away from the man. We kept running until we could no longer hear the man’s yells. My lungs burned. My shoulder throbbed. And my head felt like it might explode.
I’d say I might have overdone it today.
But I had evidence. Sierra’s name tag burned in my hands.
We circled the block and made it back to my van. After we’d safely pulled away, my heart slowed slightly. I tried to process the new information.
Tim, who reeked of garbage, looked like this was all in a day’s work for him. He didn’t breathe hard or look a bit flustered—maybe he even looked invigorated. “So Gabby, what next? Are you going to call the FBI?”
I shook my head, my eyes remained glued to the road as I feared the pain coursing through my body might distract me from driving. “I can’t tell the FBI. If I’m wrong, then I’ll be like the boy who cried wolf. They’ll never listen to me again. I have to be absolutely sure.”
“But you’ve got evidence.”
“I have evidence that Sierra’s been here. I need more.”
“Well, until you figure out your next step, do you think we could go back to that dumpster?”
“Why?”
“So I can get those shoes I found?”
I hoped my scowl was answer enough for him. Brothers…
I smiled. It felt good to think that. Brothers.
My brother was back.
Chapter Thirty
That night, guilt pounded at me—at my temples, at my heart, at my conscience.
I’d missed another class, and let myself down by doing so. I’d been blaming my dad all of these years that I’d never graduated, but maybe I should point a finger at myself.
But more importantly, I’d broken a promise to Riley.
I had to come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t relationship material. Like my dad, I was destined to screw up anything good that came my way. Why did I ever think a relationship between Riley and me would be successful anyway?
I was still pondering the thought when I heard a car door slam outside. I rushed to the window and saw Riley walking toward the door. I was going to have to own up to what I’d done.
And I wasn’t sure what the outcome of all of this would be. I wanted to crawl in bed and pretend not to be home. Except then Riley would get worried and call the police probably.
I opened the door to greet Riley before he even made it up the stairway. But I couldn’t even smile. From the way he tilted his head and squinted, Riley could tell something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” He stepped into my apartment and deposited his briefcase by the front door.
I decided to cut the chit-chat. “I think Broken Arrow is involved in Sierra’s disappearance.”
He crossed his arms. “Why would you think that?”
“Because Tim and I found her name tag in his trash.”
His expression would best be described as somber. “What do you mean you ‘found her nametag in his trash’?”
At the moment, I would rather actually go dumpster diving than own up to what I’d done. But Riley stared at me, rightfully angry. There was no hiding the truth. I told him what we’d done.
His hands went to his hips, and his voice sounded low—disappointed. “You probably couldn’t wait until I left so you could sneak behind my back and keep investigating, could you?”
“I’m your girlfriend, not your servant. You don’t control me.” Where did that come from?
Riley let out an exasperated breath. He reached for me, but I stepped back. Finally, his hand dropped to his side.
“I’m not trying to control you, Gabby. I’m just pointing out that you promised me you wouldn’t do this. You promised me you’d stay out of it.”
My soul felt like it was shrinking. “I couldn’t ignore what happened to Sierra, Riley. I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”
“There are dangerous men out there, Gabby. More dangerous than any you’ve encountered before because they’ll stop at nothing to accomplish what they want to accomplish.”
“What do you know that you’re not telling me, Riley? You keep hinting at it, but not telling me anything!”
He looked away. “I can’t say.”
“Is it something that would help me to find Sierra? At least, to clear her?”
His jaw flexed. “It’s attorney-client privilege. I can’t share.”
“You might know something that could save my friend’s life and you can’t share it? You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“What do you want me to do, Gabby? Be disbarred? I’m between a rock and a hard place.”
I crossed my arms and scowled. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
Riley pinched the skin between his eyes and leaned back against the kitchen counter. Awkward silence stretched between us. In between fighting my anger, I fought the tears that wanted to show themselves.
Finally, Riley raised his head. “What are we doing, Gabby? Why is this conversation turning into a fight?”
Tears stung at my eyes as the truth that had been haunting me the past couple of days replayed itself in my mind. Finally, I raised my head and forced my chin out. “Maybe people can’t change, Riley. Maybe I’m just like my dad after all.”
“That’s not true, Gabby.” His voice sounded low, even, and I wanted to believe him. But I couldn’t.
“We’re from two different worlds, Riley. Your family could be on the Real Housewives of Washington D.C. and mine could be on Jersey Shore. The t
wo don’t mix.”
Riley’s eyes softened, his head tilted, and he reached for me. “We’re not that different. Don’t do this, Gabby.”
I stepped back before his hands rested too long at my shoulders. “Do what?”
“I hope you’re not going where I think you’re going.”
I turned my back toward him and paced toward the door, knowing if I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes that I would break. “You’re going to want me to be a reserved little girlfriend who goes to your little hoity-toity functions with you and never makes waves.”
“I just want you to be you.”
But did he? Did he really? “You don’t want me to investigate this case.”
“Because I care about you! Because I know what kind of danger you’re in!”
I twirled around and saw that he’d followed me into the living room. “Is that really why, Riley? Or is it because I make you look bad?”
He winced. “Gabby, you know that’s not true.”
I wiped at a tear streaming down my face. “You should go now.” I pointed toward the door.
His eyes were watery now, also. “I’m not ready to give up on us. Please don’t do this.”
I didn’t answer. I turned and stomped to my bedroom, slamming the door and locking it. A moment later, I heard Riley leave. I shoved my face into the pillow and wept.
Chapter Thirty-One
The next morning, I felt depleted after a night of crying. I didn’t feel like I was ever going to run out of tears lately. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new emotional Gabby.
I drug myself out of bed and tried not to listen for any sounds of Riley across the hall. I was so used to doing just that, though. My heart panged at the thought.
I knew I’d just ruined something great. But our break up was inevitable.
But if it was inevitable, why did I feel so terrible? Why did my every thought and heartbeat cause my entire body to ache?
I began a pot of coffee and looked at the clock on my microwave. I blinked at the blurry blue numbers there. 11:30. Really?
I stuck a cup in the microwave, waited for the time to be up, and then sat down at my dinette. I didn’t even take a sip. Instead, I wiped my tears with my sleeves.
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