Page 51 of Heartless

“Right.” Trudeau shifts, glancing back at his car, and it hits me that he’s uncomfortable with Cass here. “I thought you’d moved away, Mr. Byers,” he says finally, turning back to look at us but not making a move to come into my house.

“I did. I’m just here visiting. Hayden Fields has a lot of Halloween nostalgia, you know?” God, he’s enjoying this. I can almost feel his amusement from the small, almost nervous movements the detective makes, and the way he’s clearly floundering to figure out where he wants to go next.

Hecertainlydoesn’t want to come in here.

“I see.” The detective’s voice is cold, and he’s barely looking at me anymore. Instead, all of his focus is on Cass. “Well, I can see it’s a bad time. And I overestimated my schedule this morning.” He glances at his watch, as if to convince us the lie is true. “But I’ll be back by, all right? Maybe I’ll catch you at work, Miss Campbell.”

That sounds like a threat.

“Anytime,” I murmur as he turns and takes a step off the porch. “Wait.” I don’t expect him to, but he does. “Who reported the incident atManic Manor?” I’m not sure if he’ll tell me, but it’s worth asking. I hadn’t thought anyone was around to have seen.

“A Miss…”—he pulls out his phone and opens it, checking his notes quickly—“Reagan Darcelle. She didn’t have many details. Just said there was some kind of incident and you might be in a bit of trouble.” I canhearthe dry judgment in his tone, and Iknow he thinks I’m in a different kind of trouble than what he’d come here to investigate.

And, well, he’s not exactly wrong.

“Oh, yeah,” I reply lamely. “She’s one of my good friends. Sorry that she overreacted and got you involved.”

The detective shakes his head, glancing back at us one last time. “No need to apologize, Miss Campbell,” he assures me flatly. “I’ve found the trip to be very informative.” With that he marches back to his car, not hesitating before slamming the drivers’ side door and driving away so fast I’m surprised I don’t hear the dramatic squealing of tires.

“That was bold of you,” I murmur, still leaning on the doorframe and looking around the part of the neighborhood I can see. “Do you really think it was a good idea to let him know you’re here?”

Cass drags me back into the house, closing the door and locking it absently. “I think he would’ve tried to bully you if I hadn’t. He pushes you around when he talks to you, and it unnerves you enough that he can get away with it.” Carefully, Cass pulls Doom off my shoulders, kissing his forehead. That’s another thing I hadn’t expected of him, or my cats.

I’m pretty sure Gloom is in love with him, and she’s never liked anyone other than me. Doom is a little less surprising, but still abnormal, considering the way he flips over in Cass’s arms to let the man hold him like a baby.

“Well, I appreciate your championing of me, Sir Byers,” I reply, leaning back against the door. “Do you want anything to eat? I might as well stay up and shower instead of getting up fifteen minutes before my shift starts.”

Two hourslater when I’m in my car and ready to leave, I finally take the time to look at my phone, having forgotten about thetexts I’d been sent and too busy after Trudeau had left to even think about glancing at them.

But I should’ve known they’re from Reagan. Four texts sit unopened, and I scan through them, registering the clear worry in her words.

Are you okay?

It’s been a few days

I know something happened at the haunted house. I’m worried.

Just…text me back soon, okay?

Guilt creeps up my spine and I immediately send back confirmation that I’m alive, before telling her I’m sorry for the radio silence. I don’t have it in me to really talk to anyone right now. Especially so close to my shift where I’ll have to be social for hours. Or at least pretend to be.

I’m okay, Reagan. On my way to work. I’ll text you later? Sorry for going MIA.

I give her a few seconds to respond, but when the message doesn’t shift to read, I chuck my phone into my passenger seat with a sigh. She’ll get back to me when she has time, I figure. Until then, I’ll rehearse my apology for leaving her basically high and dry for the past few days, and come up with a better lie for what happened at the haunted house so I don’t worry her.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

The fact Trudeau comes to the diner for three hours and justsitswith a cup of coffee feels suspicious at best. At worst, it’s a subtle threat that I work hard to ignore.

Which is hard, since he requested to sit in my section. Martha makes her presence known while he’s sitting there, glancing his way every once in a while and doing everything she can to seem as inhospitable as possible.

Not that it works.

My phone going off in my pocket has me heading back to the break room forty-five minutes before the end of my shift, and I glance down to see I’ve missed a few messages in the past few minutes. The ones from Reagan take priority because of my guilty conscience, and I read through her rambling worries and irritated complaints about ignoring her.

Though, I’m unsure when we became such great friends that she expects me to text her back within the hour. Last I checked, we were good friends, sure. But she has her friends and I have…

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