Page 67 of Reading Between the Lines
I didn’t need a friend for life. I needed her to get off my leg.
“You found the kid in the river.” The blunt statement pulled the conversation back where it belonged and away from dogs and any suggestion that I was likeable.
Nicholas’s smile vanished, and he sighed, fighting with the brown fur ball in his arms. “I did. Well, Diago did. Can you hang on? I need to put this rascal down before he squirms right out of my arms.”
I grunted, and Nicholas returned inside the barn. I nudged Echo again. “Go. Follow him.”
She didn’t move, and Tallus chuckled. “She likes you, D.”
“I’m an asshole,” I said to the stupid dog.
“She knows better.”
“Come on. Get. Go.” I pointed inside the barn.
Echo didn’t move and licked my hand again.
“Stop doing that.”
“Pet her. She wants to be petted.”
“I don’t pet dogs.” But I was already complying, scratching her ear and under her chin, making her golden eyes squint and that smile expression return. “You’re a stupid fucking mutt if you aren’t scared of me. Everyone’s scared of me.”
“I’m not.” Tallus bumped my shoulder and leaned against my other side.
My bubble had been invaded simultaneously by both a dog and a boyfriend. Before I could object to so much contact, Nicholas returned. He did not save me from the dog’s affection, and no one could save me from Tallus’s.
“So, what’s this about Weston? I thought the police wrote it off as an accident. Why are you here?”
“His mother isn’t convinced,” Tallus said. “Do you have a rottweiler named Argos?”
Any friendliness Nicholas had brought into our exchange faded. He stared for a beat at Tallus before responding, tone harsher. “It’s my father’s dog. Why?”
“Where’s your father?” I asked before Tallus could relay our experience in the woods that morning. He didn’t always know when to share information and when to hold back.
“At work, I assume.”
“Where’s work?”
Nicholas shrugged. “Fuck if I know. He does odd jobs for people around town, then hangs out at Lemon’s and drinks away every dollar. Hasn’t held a full-time job in going on five years thanks to his best friend Jim Beam. Why?”
“Does your dad own property on the other side of the river?”
Nicholas laughed without humor. “Are you serious? Look at this shithole.” He motioned to the house on a low rise in the distance. “It’s barely standing. Bricks crumbling. Foundation ready to cave in. Paint peeling. Christ, a strong wind this winter, and we’ll probably lose the roof, and you think we’ve got property in the Port Hope ’burbs?” He added air quotes and rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Maybe once upon a time when he held a real job, but not anymore. I thought you were here about Weston. Why are you asking about my dad?”
Echo pushed her face against my hand when I stopped petting her, so I continued as I considered what direction to take. Port Hope was a small town, and Nicholas was a half dozen or moreyears older than the Mandel kid, but there was a good chance he knew him.
“The police said you found him clinging to a large rock protruding from the water.”
“Not clinging. Clinging would imply he was awake and alert. He was unconscious, wedged between two boulders, probably forced there by the current. I thought he was dead.” Strain pulled at Nicholas’s eyes. “There’s a dam less than a hundred yards from where I found him. If he’d gone over, that would have been the end of him.” A haunted expression took over the young man’s face. “Might have been better off. It’s not like I saved his life.”
“Did you know him?” Tallus asked.
“Yeah, I knew him.” Nicholas tightened his jaw and lifted his chin. It was evident he was going to great lengths to hide his pain.
“Any idea why he might have been out by the water this time of year? Not exactly hiking weather.” Punctuating my statement, the wind picked up, rattling the barn door on its hinges and making it creak.
“How should I know? Teens in Port Hope have always taken to the woods. That trail is a popular one, too. Used to hang out there myself when I was in high school. It’s private, you know. No adults around to tell you what to do. Kids go out there to smoke pot, drink, probably fuck if the weather’s nice. I never got that lucky.” Nicholas shrugged his misfortune away.
