by Destiny Ford
She got up and went to the back room to file. I went back to work. Karrie’s email came through and I spent the rest of the day researching information on the other bodies that had been found. They all had similarities, with the arms and legs removed, but none of the others had been blown up. I wasn’t sure what made Juan so special—and unfortunate.
As the day wound down, and I gathered my things to leave, I couldn’t stop thinking of Ella’s statement about my date with Drake. She seemed to think it would be life changing. I had a feeling she was probably right.
Drake had picked me up in his yellow Hummer, which I totally disapproved of for its ginormous qualities. We’d discussed it before. Repeatedly. This time though, he’d at least brought me a stepstool so I didn’t have to pull a muscle getting into the behemoth.
We’d driven about thirty miles out of town into the mountains. Despite hating his vehicle, I had to admit that I appreciated its ground clearance and shocks on the bumpy mountain roads.
He’d packed a picnic dinner for us, and taken me to a secluded spot by an enormous and gorgeous cascading waterfall that I didn’t even know was there.
“This is beautiful,” I gasped as we walked up. “I’ve never been here before.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised. “There were always parties up here when I was younger.”
I shrugged. “Not parties that I was invited to.”
He tsked. “You were popular in high school.”
“Not that popular, apparently.”
He put a checkered blue and white blanket down and took cheese, meat, fruit, and various kinds of bread out of the basket. We settled everything and started to eat. Drake had piqued my interest in the last few weeks. I actually wanted to get to know him, instead of just relying on what I’d heard about him. I thought now would be a good time to start.
“So,” I said, picking up a piece of bread, “tell me how you got the reputation you did.” I spread some creamy cheese on the bread before topping it with ham. “I heard about your prowess with girls even when I was a teenager, and I was five years younger than you.”
He shook his head and breathed out a long sigh. “What you heard then, and what you keep hearing now is just an exaggeration. I was a popular jock who dated a lot of girls. People jumped to conclusions about me.” He paused, taking a bite of his food. “Now, people can’t seem to understand why I’m still single. People need things to make sense, and their minds take the path of least resistance to get there. They think I’m attractive, young, and financially secure. They can’t wrap their heads around me being alone, and they’re looking for a reason to explain why I haven’t settled down.”
I’d wondered that myself. “Why haven’t you?”
He looked at me and held my gaze, hot and intense. “Because I’ve been waiting for the right woman.”
I stopped breathing for at least ten seconds and stared back. I got the distinct feeling he seemed to think he’d found her, and I was eighty shades of confused by it. He hadn’t been interested in me when I was younger, why would he suddenly decide I was the one for him? I couldn’t even begin to process my feelings. I hurried to change the subject so I wouldn’t have to deal with the emotions that seemed to be creeping into my head—and my heart. “If the rumors are wrong, why do you let people keep talking? Why not try to stop them?”
He raised a brow. “You should know how well that works. I tried when I was younger. Refuting the rumors just made more people talk. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut and eventually, they’d find a bigger target.”
Judging by how often Drake was the subject of conversation, I thought he should re-strategize. “I don’t think that worked.”
“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. You’ve helped the situation a little bit because everyone is more interested in you than me…” his mouth slid up in a taunting smile, “except for the times people lump me in with the rumors about you.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” I asked, incredulous. “I believe you’re the one who’s been pursuing me,” I pointed out.
“I am.” He said it without apology. “And I don’t plan to stop.”
I cocked a brow. “We’ll see about that.” I paused and took a drink of the sparkling cider he’d brought for us. “So, Mr.-I-totally-know-you-and-always-have. You’ve never given me any details about that. Enlighten me about when you think we met.”
I knew. It was at a dance after one of the football games. I was thirteen, and every stage of awkward as I stood against the wall, hoping someone, anyone, would pay attention to me. And let’s be honest, I was hard to miss: big, permed, frizzy brown hair held in place with crunchy gel and an entire can of Aqua Net; blush that made me look like I’d fallen off a circus truck; and lipstick that had far too many orange tones for my cool complexion. I’d worn my prettiest dress: royal blue with matching lace over the top of the satin.
I’d watched Drake all night, dancing with the prettiest girls, and dreamed of what it would be like to be the focus of all that tall, dark attention. At the end of the night, he’d walked by with a girl who looked like a supermodel. Curves in all the right places, platinum blonde hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, and huge boobs. She was the head cheerleader. I’d had a cheerleader complex ever since.
I’d lowered my lashes as they passed me, feeling like I wasn’t even good enough to look at the gorgeous couple, but Drake had stopped. My eyes had fluttered up in surprise, and Drake had focused his beautiful sapphire gaze on me. I shrank back further against the wall. He’d flashed a stunning smile and said, “You look really pretty in that color.” Then he walked away.
Nothing could have done more for my teenage self-esteem than that simple sentence. In less than ten seconds, he’d made me feel like I mattered. Not because he thought I was pretty—though that definitely helped—but because he’d taken the time to notice me when I thought no one did.
From then on, I’d been quietly fixated on him, hoping for another conversation. Another confirmation that someone saw more in me than I did. He’d changed my life that day. And I doubted he even remembered it.
Of course, then I’d grown up and realized I really wasn’t that important and Drake handed out compliments more than forty-year old women got Botox because he was charming and good at getting what he wanted.
I’d become a little cynical with age.
“Do you remember an incident at the fair when you were a teenager?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard and I frowned. I remembered a lot of incidents at the fair. Including puking on my eleventh grade crush after he convinced me to go on a ride that spun so fast the laws of gravity went AWOL. It was not my best moment. I also peed my pants after a Slushee drinking dare went poorly. And those were the memories I hadn’t repressed—none of which I wanted Drake privy to. “Umm, remind me which one.”
“There were a lot?”
“I had an eventful childhood.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for them all.”
I wasn’t.
He leaned against a rock, putting one knee up. “This happened late on the last night of the fair. You were there with some of your friends listening to a concert. During the middle of the concert, some guys in front of you started harassing a boy. He was uncomfortable and tried to move away, but they grabbed him and started pulling him from the crowd. As soon as you realized what was happening, you got a determined look on your face, marched right up to them and told them to leave the boy alone. They tried to make you back down, but you wouldn’t. You stood between them and the boy. And they left him alone because of it. Afterwards, you brought the boy over to your group of friends to make sure they wouldn’t harass him again.”
I remembered the incident. Martin Thomas was autistic. Most of the members of the community and my peers were great with him and tried to include him as much as possible. But the guys at the concert were either drunk, dumb, or both, and had the nerve to try to hurt him. I�
��d been furious. It had taken a threat to their twig-and-berry area involving my kickass Doc Martens to get them to leave Martin alone, but they had. After it happened, I’d been concerned Martin would face even more ridicule when he got back to school for needing a girl to save him. I was younger than he was, and still in middle school. I’d been worried about him for days. Luckily, that hadn’t happened and he’d actually become the manager for the football team. “How did you know about that?” I asked, surprised.
Drake picked up a piece of grass and started weaving it through his fingers. “I was there. I noticed what was happening around the same time as you, but I was further away. By the time I got there, you had the situation handled. I stayed off to the side to make sure everything was okay. When the guys walked away, me and some of my friends talked to them and made sure it wouldn’t happen again.”
My mouth dropped in complete shock. Drake was the reason they’d left Martin alone after I’d told them all off? All of this time, and I had no idea he’d done that for Martin. Other than the night at the dance—which happened after the fair incident—I felt like I’d really only seen one side of Drake. And it was becoming more and more apparent that the side I’d seen was cloaked in rumors and lies—not the man he’d actually been, or the man he’d become.
“I tried to make sure Martin and kids like him were taken care of. I’ve never liked bullies. I was lucky to be in a position to do something about it. But what really impressed me is that you weren’t. You were about twelve at the time, standing up to a group of high school football players who outweighed you by a collective seven hundred pounds at least. And you were fearless.” His eyes softened with admiration as he looked up at me. “You didn’t have the brawn, or even their age, but you saw an injustice and wouldn’t let it stand. I’d never been so impressed—and I haven’t been since.”
If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I would have staggered. He’d been impressed by me? When I was twelve? And he still was?
“I’ll never forget Martin saying, ‘Thank you, Katie. Thank you.’ ”
I’d forgotten that until just now. Martin had always called me Katie. I blinked back tears at the memory.
“I learned something about myself that day, Katie. I don’t handle weak women well. I loved how strong, independent, outspoken, and stubborn you were even then. I still do.”
My heart was racing with a flurry of emotions. I was stunned, moved, and amazed. Three things I never thought I’d feel regarding Dylan Drake. In the span of a story, my opinion of him had completely changed. “Why didn’t you tell me this a long time ago?”
“Would you have believed me?” he asked.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure. But I wished I’d known.
“I wanted to wait for the right time,” he said. “This seemed like it.”
He reached over, his hand cupping my cheek. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me, and I had the sudden realization that I wanted him to—more than I’d wanted anything for a long time. “You’re an incredible woman, and I’m lucky to have you in my life.”
“Thanks,” I breathed.
“Do you think you’d do this again? With me?”
I’d probably do any number of things with him at the moment. I managed to stop that from making it out of my mouth, though. “Go on a date?” I asked instead.
He nodded.
I bit the corner of my lip. “I’d like that very much.”
He gave me a wide smile. “I’ll start planning it tomorrow.” He moved and started packing up our basket. “I know you’ve had a long week. I just wanted to spend some time with you, and try to take your mind off things. Thank you for trusting me.”
I watched him closely, feeling like I was looking at him for the first time. “Thank you for finally letting me see the real you.”
He stood and helped me up. The electricity between us was there and pulsing, but instead of kissing me like I’d hoped he would, he took my hand and led me back to the Hummer. My stomach jumped at the touch of his fingers laced through mine, and I wished things had gone further than hand holding. The whole way home I thought about what he’d said, and tried to hide my disappointment that we hadn’t kissed. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling the connection like I was? Or maybe he didn’t want to rush things. It was a bad move on his part because I probably would have agreed to just about anything.
When we got to my house, Drake got out and walked me to the door. He waited patiently as I opened the lock. “Thanks for tonight, Drake. I really did have a good time.”
He laughed. “You sound surprised.”
“I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Well,” he said, reaching up and brushing the hair off the side of my face, “I like to rise above expectations.”
I smiled and opened the door. I turned around to go inside when he caught my hand. I looked up at him.
“Oh, and the first night we met? It was at a dance. You were wearing a blue dress and even then, I thought you were stunning.”
He took my face in both of his hands, leaned in, kissed my forehead lightly, and walked back to his Hummer. I stood there, holding my keys and bag, unable to move for at least five minutes.
Expectations exceeded.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s got some afterglow,” Ella said, examining me with a critical eye. I must have been smiling a little wider than usual.
“That’s ridiculous. We just had dinner. We didn’t even kiss.” Technically. I didn’t count a forehead kiss as a kiss kiss.
Ella gave me a sly smile. “But you look much happier than usual.”
I nodded as I sat at my desk. “It was a good date.” I opened my email, and started clicking through the messages. I was only half-listening to Ella as I sorted my inbox.
“—and then Amber said you’d probably drugged him to get him to sleep with you.”
I stopped, looked up at her and blinked. “What?”
“The Ladies saw Drake pick you up. There was a long discussion about it in the Facebook group.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure there was. I think maybe you should stop telling me what they’re all saying. It’s just making me more and more pissed off.”
Ella shrugged. “Whatever you want, Katie.”
I checked my own Facebook messages, the little head and body still glowing with a red notification, reminding me I had a friend request. I’d thought about the implications of being Drake’s friend before now, and hadn’t wanted to deal with it. Now that I saw another side of him though, and knew who he really was, I knew I wanted him in my life, and my social media. I clicked ‘confirm’ on the notification tab, and smiled as the link popped up saying we were now friends.
I went back to my emails. I’d emailed Karrie some follow-up questions about the bodies, and she sent me back information about the locations they were all found in, and the descriptions of crime scenes. Most of the remains were found in random locations outdoors. But several things—the way the bodies had been treated, the police and Karrie’s suspicion that they were all drug related murders, and Kory Greer’s sudden influx of money—supported my hunch that Juan Carlotta’s death was somehow connected to the other murders, and Kory Greer.
I wanted to see Kory’s reaction when I told him about the other bodies, and ask him more about where he was getting his money. I put an interview with Kory on my list to do today, and this time, I was going to talk to him in person so I could see his reaction as I asked questions.
Spence interrupted my thoughts. “We just got a press release about another pot protest.”
“Another protest?” I asked. The movement had probably gained steam since the pot cookie reveal.
“The protest is on Main Street at noon.” Main Street was right outside our store window, so it seemed like they were having it in the same place as last time, which was convenient for me. This time they’d given warning, and would probably have better attendance.
I had a few hours before the protest started, so I decided to
take a break and run to the grocery store to make sure I had more than moldy cheese in my house. It was safer to go during the middle of the day. The grocery store was the place that had been the most affected by the lack of pot cookies. Spence told me that after the police got things under control, store employees had to work all night to clean up from the cookie riot, and some people were still bitter with me about it. Going back to the scene so soon after the disaster probably wasn’t the best idea, but my fridge was bare and there was only one place in town to remedy that. I’d have to get groceries sooner or later. I knew there’d be less people shopping in the morning though, and thought I could probably make it out with my groceries unscathed.
I ran through aisles, grabbing Cap’n Crunch cereal, milk, bread, cheese, ice cream, chocolate, and I threw in some fruits and vegetables out of guilt. I noticed the cookie section was back to normal, and free of any Saints and Sinners Cookies. I paid, blowing out a sigh of relief that I’d had no cookie confrontation, and was on my way to the Jeep when I heard a familiar voice. “Heeey! It’s the reporter lady!”
Keanu—not his real name, but the name I’d christened him with after our first meeting when he’d been drunk, high, and sounded a lot like a character out of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventures—was leaning against an old beat up green Honda in the parking lot with some of his friends.
“Hey,” I said, pushing my cart over and stopping by his car.
“Dude,” he said, his expression sad as he shook his head, “my friends aren’t too happy you told everyone about the cookies.”
I lifted my hands in an I-give-up gesture. “Join the club.”
“Those cookies were stellar! And waaaayy cheaper than buying just weed.”
My mouth curved down in sympathy. “I know. Sorry about that. They were making people sick, though.”
Keanu’s eyes went wide and he looked totally amused. “That’s just because people were eating so much at once.”
Yeah, that was part of it. “Well, they didn’t know they were eating anything but sugar and flour.”
