Page 39 of SALT

"Of course you did," she says before sipping her wine. "After Stormy dropped that bomb, I decided to visit my mom. If there was any truth in her story, my mother would know. She was a records clerk at the Waterloo police station for over thirty years. What I found out was Sage Graves did get a rape kit or a version of it at the hospital after a sexual assault occurred around the same time she would have likely conceived Evan. The hospital processed everything, but when it showed up at the police station, it went missing. All the records of her claim were gone."

"If everything went missing, how does your mother know anything about it?"

"She was the one who received it from the hospital. The kit literally went missing while she was processing it. She left to use the restroom, and when she returned, it was gone."

Craig was a dirty chief of police who had his hands in everything. His corruption and blackmail went untouched for years. "Let me guess, she didn't question that it went missing because of who was named as the assailant." She shrugs a non-verbal admission. "Have you mentioned any of this to Evan?"

"No, I haven't seen him since that day in my living room. Honestly, a conversation between Moira and me is long overdue, but seeing as she hasn't been around, I decided to come to you as an olive branch, if you will. I'm currently working for your son, and I meant it when I said my business here has nothing to do with you and yours." She pauses to take a bite of her salad. I'll give it to her. Lauren's comfort and moxie are unfitting for the current situation. They remind me of Cameron. She waves her fork at me. "Are you not going to eat?"

"You'll have to excuse my lack of appetite. This story you're spinning is news to me, and I'm still not sure I believe it."

Again, she takes another bite, unfazed by my disbelief. "What do I have to gain by lying?" I don't admit I haven't figured that out yet, but there's always something. Ghosts don't come back without a reason to haunt. "If you don't believe me, you could always ask your wife."

"Ex-wife," I correct before taking another pull of my cognac. "You still haven't answered my question. You aren't Stormy's blood. So who are you to Stormy?"

I watch as she places her plate down and picks up her wine. She's stalling, which means whatever comes out next is either a lie or a version of the truth that doesn't tell the whole story.

"I met Sage through an unlikely source I don't want to discuss. The way we met doesn't concern you. It's a part of my past." She pauses, flipping open another container. "Unbeknownst to me, Sage had a will. The woman barely had a pot to piss in, but she had a will, and apparently, she named me as a guardian for Stormy should anything ever happen to her. But the detail Stormy doesn't realize I know is that Stormy was not Sage's biological daughter. Sage adopted her."

"Are you fucking kidding me? She leaves Evan on our porch but adopts a stranger? Pass me the bottle."

Lauren slides the bottle across the counter. "I know how it looks, but you can't judge someone else's journey because it doesn't fit your script. We both know Sage wasn't the only one around here with skeletons in the closet." As I pour myself another glass, she asks, "So, are you agreeing to let this play out?"

There's more to tell. I can feel it. But I honestly can't put together why the girl would choose this lie; however, like Lauren, I'm intrigued.

"I'm not the keeper of your secrets, Lauren."

"The way I see it, I haven't given you any information you couldn't have found on your own." She places her hand on her hip. "If there were secrets in it, they weren't mine."

My eyes narrow on hers. She's not wrong. While I know damn well she's withholding information, the secrets she shared weren't hers; they were Moira's, but everyone knows a secret that isn't yours to tell is still a secret, but I let it go. I have so many questions, but first, I need to see my ex, and right now, she's the last person I want to see. I can't believe, after everything we've been through, she would keep this of all things from me—it's time to find the stranger I used to call wife.

Chapter 16

Cameron

"Cameron, what's wrong? Talk to me. What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it. I shouldn't have answered the phone," I sigh heavily. We are a texting generation. I can't believe Mac called. The sound of my phone ringing caught me off guard, and I accidentally swiped it. "I just wanted to know how fast you could design and build me a house. I don't need anything big. I think smaller would be better. A ranch-style house, but I want those stacker sliding glass doors across the entire back so I feel like I'm on Salt Lake even when I'm inside my living room." My dad left this property to me, and I've decided I want a house here. I feel close to him when I'm here. "If you're too busy, I understand. I just thought I'd offer you the job first. It would be another project under your belt and one that can be done from home. You don't have to travel and––"

"Cam, you don't have to sell me on designing a home for you. I'll do it. I'm just wondering why you're sending me this text from the lake at almost midnight."

I need to turn off my phone's share location feature. If she knows I'm here, so does Everett. I stare up at the pitch-black night sky, but there are no stars. Not tonight. It's overcast, and the only light that can be seen filters through thin clouds every now and then. It's pitch dark out here, but the howling coyotes off in the distance don't scare me. Nothing could scare me right now. I feel numb. When Everett told me he didn't like me riding with Nash, it felt like more, especially after what went down last night. He's a man of few words, and I know whatever is happening between us isn't easy. Us. Right now, that term feels naive. I'm back to feeling like a girl with a crush because the woman who got in his car was confident she was getting in with a man who was struggling to come to terms with the fact that he has feelings for his best friend's daughter. I accepted the silence because I didn't want to push. I wanted to give him space while being in his space all at the same time. Then he parked the car, and everything felt like whiplash. There I was, nothing once more. Lauren was sitting on his damn porch with a bottle of wine and dinner. It was clearly a date, and fuck if that didn't hurt. I had to get out of there. Right now, a coyote ripping out my throat feels like the lesser of two evils.

"It's quiet, and I needed space to think. You still need to answer the other part of my question. How long will it take? Can we expedite the process?"

"I mean, I can start drawing something up tomorrow and get it to you in a few days. If you like it, I can send it to the architect we used to build the spare house on our property for my mom and brother. After that, there's probably at least a month of paperwork, followed by getting a contractor and materials. Plus, there's the terrain to consider. We could have trees taken down and get the land build ready while everything else starts, but it would be at least six to eight months before you had an actual house on the property.

"Ugh, why can't shit just be easy?"

"It's not hard. You're currently impatient and clearly avoiding something. Does this have anything to do with Everett not telling you who broke in yesterday instead of today?"

"Wait," I sit straight up on the hood of my car. "Everett knew who broke in yesterday? How do you know that?"

I hear Connor mumble something in the background. I'm probably keeping him awake. I'm sure he's trying to sleep but would rather have a lousy sleep than let her get out of bed to take a call in the other room.

"I know because he called Connor around lunchtime yesterday, so I guess that would have been mid-morning your time."

He fucking knew all day. He knew during the uniform fittings, and he knew when he sat in my room waiting for me to come home, and he still didn't say anything. The threat to my security was gone, but he didn't tell me. Instead, he fucked with my head and gave me a reason to stay.

---