Page 27 of Philly
She started to nod, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Honestly, when I read that she’d gone missing, I assumed she was dead somewhere. Maybe killed by someone close to her. Her husband, most likely.”
“But then you saw her with me.”
Again, she nodded. “I was investigating another case when you two cropped up on the CCTV footage. Seeing her alive months after she’d ‘disappeared’ raised a lot of questions. And I started to wonder if she’d heard or seen something. Something that would send her into hiding. Something that might help me unravel this puzzle and find out what really happened to Liza.”
“And that’s why you want to talk with her.”
It wasn’t a question, but she nodded.
He got it now. He understood why she’d pushed him. And he understood why she didn’t push him now. Tonight wasn’t one for answers. Maybe it had started that way for her. Most likely, she’d come with the intention of demanding information. But now, with both of them reeling from their conversation, neither asked or offered any more from each other.
A few minutes of silence passed, then she rose. He followed suit. “I, um…”
He’d never seen Callie unsure, and while he didn’t like it, he also didn’t have it in him to fix it.
“I think it might be better for me to leave. Maybe we can talk again…”
“In a few days?”
She hesitated, then nodded. He walked over and took her jacket from the hook, her gaze darting away from his when hehanded it to her. Without a word, she pulled it on, and he followed her to the door. She paused on his porch and met his eye.
“I meant what I said, Gabriel. I wish I’d never said the things I said, but I’ve never been so terrified in my life. For you. I wouldn’t change the rest because of that. My parents would have destroyed you, and I couldn’t have that. You deserved so much more, and my sixteen-year-old self did what I could to make sure you had that chance. But I’m sorry, so sorry for the way it happened.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
He was still standing in the door long after her taillights disappeared down the road.
15
With her head in a fog, Callie drove away from Gabriel’s. She’d always known that at some point, they’d have to talk about that night. Well, notalways, but ever since she’d walked into the conference room at the Falcons’ clubhouse to find Gabriel sitting at the table.
But even with her stomach turning circles and her body both exhausted and buzzy, she couldn’t quite believe they’d actually done it. Or that she’d told him everything she had. In the thousand times she’d imagined the conversation, it had gone differently—she apologized, he didn’t accept it, they moved on. She hadn’t planned to tell him about her parents, about their controlling and abusive ways. She’d never told anyone the lengths they’d gone to drill perfection into their two daughters. Not even Liza. Oh, she’d alluded to it, and she suspected Liza had guessed some, but she’d never spoken the words. Ever. She and Daphne never even spoke about it.
But she’d told Gabriel.
And god, did it leave her vulnerable and confused and wishing she could shut her frickin’ brain off for ten minutes. The only thing that sometimes managed to do that, though, wasa run, and she’d already run that morning. She didn’t want to wreck her body with another. Besides, it was now dark, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the less-traveled roads iced over.
Turning down Main Street, she slowed to account for the traffic, both cars and pedestrians. She’d heard the weekends were worse and wondered if, once it snowed and all the skiers arrived, she’d want to avoid it altogether. She’d never lived in a seasonal vacation destination, so she tabled that thought and decided to wait and see.
Passing the Blacksmith, a popular restaurant and bar, she slowed even more. When a car pulled away from the curb in front of her, she took that as a sign and whipped her little SUV into the vacant spot. Grabbing a drink wasn’t her preferred way to calm herself down, but the chatter at the bar and the chance to people-watch might give her enough distraction to slow her racing mind.
Tugging on her hat and zipping her jacket, she slipped from the driver’s seat, darted a look both ways, then jogged across the street, locking her car along the way. The clatter of dishes, laughter, and the clinking of glasses greeted her when she pushed through the door. And into a crowd. A dozen people stood in the foyer waiting for tables.
Still, refusing to be daunted now that she was there, she craned her neck to view the bar. Was that one seat at the very end?
“Callie!”
She jerked back and spun to the voice. Scanning the crowd, she didn’t see anyone she knew.
“Here!” A hand came up, drawing her attention. To Lina, Juliana, Joey, and Charley sitting at a large booth.
She didn’t want to make small talk, not with four women who were like sisters to Gabriel. But she also didn’t want to be rude, so she wended her way around the tables to their booth.
“Have a seat,” Joey said, patting the spot beside her. She glanced around the table, and while she didn’t see any outright hostility, they didn’t look particularly welcoming, either.
Lina sighed. “Sit, Callie,” she said. Of the four women, she knew Lina the most. She and the former CIA agent had hit it off when Callie had helped find her father’s killer. But they weren’t close.
“You look like you crawled out of a foxhole and don’t know where you are,” Lina continued. An unflattering if apt description. “There are no seats at the bar or any tables. Sit and have a drink. You don’t have to talk or listen or participate in our conversation—although you are welcome to do so. But I think we can all agree that you’d appreciate a drink right now. For whatever reason,” she added. Her tone must have caught the others’ attention, because suddenly they were all looking at her with a curiosity that felt both inevitable and uncomfortable. But Lina was right. She wanted to sip a drink and let the world go on around her, if only for thirty minutes or so.
