Page 49 of Aftermath
“Rusty,” I agreed, my stomach turning with both nausea and guilt.
We made it back to her apartment in minutes and I followed her inside and upstairs. She kept glancing around, like someone might be following us.
It wasn’t a possibility I dismissed. I hadn’t seen anyone tailing us, and nothing outside told me anyone was watching the building, but I kept my guard up.
We made it inside her apartment without running into Mallory. I wished Len would stop worrying so much about what her friend wanted and more about her safety.
She hurried to the bedroom, and I heard meows of morning greetings. I found my way to her fridge and opened it, trying to find something I could put together for her.
There were no eggs, eliminating my first idea on what to make. Between her freezer and fridge, I found some berries, which I washed and put into a bowl, and some frozen waffles, which I toasted and added butter to. It was nothing gourmet, but it would do.
She came back out to find the small array of food and nodded a thanks to me. “Is there caffeine?” she asked.
Shit, I’d forgotten the coffee.
“I can make some now,” I offered.
“Don’t bother. It would just make me late,” she said, her voice sounding a bit panicked.
I really messed up.
I had to fix this. “I’ll grab your coffee from the café across the street from the museum. You just focus on getting there on time,” I assured her.
What was I doing?I had things I needed to do for the case. I was operating on borrowed time; the FBI could end things in seconds.
“Fine,” she said.
I walked with her in silence. She barely acknowledged me as we parted ways, and I headed for the café across the street while she made her way inside the museum.
I ordered two lattes, hoping she had similar taste when it came to caffeine.
Why did the idea of Lenore enjoying the same drink make my heart speed up a little?
The drinks were ready in no time, and I found straws, which I grabbed for both of us. I carried them across the street and watched as tourists meandered into the museum. It had only been open minutes, and it was already busy.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Hello?” I answered, forgetting to check the caller ID before I picked up.
“Winston!” Lyla squealed through the phone.
“Hey, Lyla,” I said, a smile spreading on my face.
It’d been only days since I spoke with her last, but I was enjoying finding my way back to what felt like normal after so long.
“You will never believe it,” she said, and I could hear the pride in her voice through the phone.
“What?” I asked, my heart swelling with happiness.
“I looked into Briarport, since I knew you would be staying there for your case for a bit,” she said. “And they have bagel shop just like Don’s!” She practically screamed the last part into my ear.
“I will have to check it out. What’s it called?” I asked.
“Seaside Café,” she answered. “A very obvious name, if you ask me, but it looks like it is right in the center of town. Have you seen it?”
“I have not, but I promise I will report back the second I try it,” I said and meant it.
There was little I wouldn’t do for my sister. Every piece of me was dedicated to protecting her innocence, encouraging her curious mind. If she kept on the path she was on, she’d surpass me in no time.
