Page 49 of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

“We can make the cookies together,” Luke said. “I have all the ingredients.”

“You have the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies?” Dixie scoffed.

“Sure do,” he said. “I keep tellin’ Summer I’m domesticated now, but so far, it hasn’t swayed her into something more permanent.”

While I recognized that he wasn’t the chauvinist he’d been when we were kids, I still wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for us to live together. No doubt he would have packed me up and moved me in months ago if I would have agreed to it. I couldn’t help wondering how long he’d wait.

“Well,” I said, digging my fork into my dinner. “I say we wrap things up here, then plan on hitting this fresh first thing tomorrow.” I lifted my brow. “Hopefully with a buttload of interviews.”

“I haven’t let you down yet,” Dixie said, beaming. “And I don’t plan to with this. We’ll have this case wrapped up by Monday mornin’.”

I was counting on it.

Chapter Nineteen

Magnolia

Isat on the balcony off our hotel room on the seventeenth floor overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, my eyes closed, enveloped by the sound of the waves, the wind blowing my hair around my face. It was October and the sun had gone down, so it was cold. I shivered, but I didn’t want to go inside. Something about being out here grounded me.

“Are you hungry?” Belinda asked as I felt a blanket drape over me.

I opened my eyes and smiled as she handed me a mug.

“It’s hot tea with honey.”

“I’m fine, Belinda. You can stop babying me. I just want to sit out here and enjoy the fresh air.”

She went back inside as I stewed in my guilt over snapping at her. She’d been nothing but kind to me and I kept being horrible. But she came back out moments later with her own blanket and mug. Settling in the chair next to mine, she draped the blanket over herself and took a sip from her mug. “Colt’s trending on Twitter.”

“What?” I turned to face her, my tea sloshing in my cup. “Did Mo and Molly post their audio clip of his confrontation with Mo?”

“What? No.” She set her cup on the table between us and tugged her phone out of her pocket, then pulled a video up on her screen. “His performance tonight.”

I took the phone from her and pressed play.

Colt was on stage with his guitar, singing one of the songs he’d been rehearsing, an original, not a cover. He’d written it for me before our lives had hit a brick wall. It was a beautiful song and he hadn’t sung it in public yet. He said he was waiting for me so we could sing it together. Why had he changed his mind? Was it because he was giving up on us? On me?

My eyes burned with tears.

“He’s so good, Magnolia,” Belinda said. “There are so many videos of him singing that song posted on Twitter. They’re even on YouTube.”

“That’s amazing,” I said. How was it possible to be so proud of him while my heart hurt so much?

“Call him,” she said. “Tell him you saw him on Twitter. Tell him how proud you are of him.”

“How do you know I’m proud of him?”

“Girl, your eyes lit up and you smiled for the first time in hours. And besides—look at him! Anyone with ears can hear how good he is!”

“I know, Belinda. I’ve known how good he is since I first heard him sing.” I handed back her phone and leaned my head back on the seat.

We were quiet for several seconds before she asked, “Do you think what happened to your mother in Sweet Briar matters? Does it change anything for you?”

While we still didn’t have all the information, Summer had updated us with what they’d discovered so far—namely that my aunt had been murdered, the case as yet unsolved.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It all happened so long ago. I suppose it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, and part of me is still tempted to drop the whole thing.”

Belinda was quiet for a moment, then said, “If you drop it, would you mind if I have Summer and Dixie keep looking?”

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