Page 95 of Lost in the Moonlight

The debate warred in me again. How much to tell? How much to hold back? If he and Mom hadn’t set up a date, if I didn’t know they were trying to start a relationship, I might have spilled my guts about everything, regardless of the Marshals’ warning. But what had happened with Dad, how much Mom wanted to tell him, was hers to share and not mine. For now, I’d let him think it was Poco, like we were hoping it was.

Lincoln stepped forward, fingers twining with mine, and Hector’s eyes landed on our joined hands. He glanced from my face to Lincoln’s and then back.

“I know who you are,” he said to Lincoln. “I also realized you didn’t want people to know. But this”—he waved at the security and then the wall— “is this because of you?”

I was instantly shaking my head, but I felt Lincoln hesitate for a brief second, and when I looked up, his brows were creased.

“Have you at least told your mom about it?” Hector asked when neither of us responded.

“She knows. I’ve told her everything,” I said.

“That’s good. Secrets have a way of destroying things,” Hector said, and my stomach plummeted again. What would he think of the secrets Mom and I had kept from him for years? It had been for our safety, but would he understand that? After everything he’d done for me, and the little dance he and Mom had begun, would he ever be able to forgive us?

I could only hope he would.

Could only hope he’d see not the secrets but the truths we’d tried to live by.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Lincoln

SINGING LOW

Performed by The Fray

I felt Willow’s conflict vibrating throughher. She wanted to come clean with Hector about everything but was fighting the instinct to lie that had kept her safe for years. She cared for this man. Cared for him enough to want to see her mom with him. I couldn’t imagine having to keep the truth of who you really were from everyone you loved. But then again, lying about a name and a past didn’t change who you were. Your actions, how you treated others, how you lived was the truth of you.

Before Willow needed to lie even more, Axel showed up, and right behind him was the Cherry Bay police. A uniformed officer was accompanied by a man who introduced himself as Detective Muloney. He was in his fifties and was mostly bald but made up for the lack of hair on his head with an abundance of it on his face. Fit and trim in jeans, a button-down, and a wool blazer that seemed almost too much for barely three in the morning.

The detective took in the mural with angry eyes before saying, “Fuck, Hector. I’m damn sorry. Sophia’s paintings…my sister was so proud of them. So proud of you and the shop.” A stunned silence settled down in the room, and even Willow seemed taken aback by Hector’s dead wife being Muloney’s sister.

Jaw working overtime, the detective tugged on his beard, whipped out a notepad from a back pocket, and said, “Walk me through what’s happened.”

As Hector and Willow explained everything that had occurred leading up to the destroyed mural and why they thought Poco might be involved, Axel gave me a head nod, indicating he wanted to talk to me outside.

I squeezed Willow’s hand, kissed her temple, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

She looked up with sad eyes that almost undid me. I wanted her joy, her infectious lightness, not the heaviness that had attempted to drag her down over and over the last few days. No matter how resilient she was, no matter how determined she was to focus on the good, even Willow had limits. The simple fact she wasn’t smiling now made me yearn to destroy lives.

I followed Axel out the front door and onto the street. The old-fashioned streetlamps cast small circles along the cobblestones and sidewalks. The air smelled of cherry blossoms, and the fallen petals decorated the ground in a mosaic of pink and white shades.

“Is there a possibility this has nothing to do with Ms. Earhart?” he asked.

“If it’s me they’re after, I don’t understand why they’d target Willow and Hector. I haven’t known her for more than a week.The night things went down at the cemetery was the first time we’d ever spoken.”

“But the note on the door arrived after you’d started spending time together? Is it possible this is the hate group who came after your father and the vice president and kidnapped Leya Singh?”

I hadn’t even considered them being involved. “Willow wouldn’t be their target. She’s not a person of color. She’s blond and white. They’d probably congratulate her on landing me.” The bitter sarcasm in my voice wasn’t missed by Axel.

“And you’re sure the issues with Felicity Bradshaw are behind you?”

What did it say that Holden had asked the same question? That my mind kept journeying back to the man in the gray sedan? And yet I hadn’t mentioned it to Axel last night. I’d wanted to believe Felicity was in my past, but shehadreached out to me this week, and I’d ignored her. She’d tried to get information on me from my sister.

The angry grip on my lungs tightened even more. My finger found a brow, rubbing it before I pocketed my hand as dread wound through me. What if this was all because of me? Not just the photos that threatened to out Willow but the sick notes causing her fear as well?

The words written on the wall and the first note at Willow’s picked at a memory. Hadn’t Felicity said something similar to me once? After she’d finally realized she wasn’t getting me back? I tried to remember the actual words she’d used. Something about not deserving the fairy-tale ending she’d had in mind for us.

Acid burned in my throat as I told Axel about her recent attempts to contact me, the things we knew for a fact she’d been responsible for, and about the man in the gray sedan.

---