Page 43 of The Last Love Song
“But what if someone wants a drink or something? My family doesn’t need any more fodder for the rumor mill, and I know you don’t want that, either.” She remembered something he said to her the night he’d rescued her from the side of the road—how much he hated secrets and agendas.
“I’ll stand over here, and no one will see me.” He backed into the corner, half hidden between the popcorn popper and a broken refrigerator.
It wasn’t a bad spot. It would keep his presence secret.
Although, that left her alone in a very close space with a man who set butterflies off inside her.
A bat cracked outside the concession stand, and the crowd roared. Heather turned to watch as J.D. rounded first base. Tiffany McCord and her daughter, Bailey, jumped up and down in the stands. Tiffany high-fived Jeremy Covington, who stood in the bleachers behind them.
“Is that the Covington kid who hit that?” Zach asked, folding his arms over the same suit he’d worn to the press conference.
Her heart ached for him. True, she blamed Zach for not telling her about the missing money, but she felt bad he’d been working all day without a break to go home and change. Faint lines surrounded his eyes. He looked exhausted. Appealing, yes. But tired, too.
“Yes. He drove in two runs and made it to third base.” She tugged her sweater tighter around her, wondering if it was just her imagination or if Jeremy Covington and Tiffany McCord looked particularly friendly. “But I’m sure you didn’t sneak in the concession stand to discuss J.D.’s batting average.”
Zach shook his head. “I want your family’s permission to review your dad’s home computer or laptop, if you still have it. Ifyou’re concerned about conflict of interest, hire another digital forensics firm. But you should review his files.”
Everything inside her stilled.
“You don’t ask for much, do you?”
“Your family lawyer will advise the same thing. I’m sure Sam will approach your family about giving the police access. But I wanted to talk to you first.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Heather. I thought I owed it to you to speak to you directly. To tell you I’m sorry I screwed up by not talking to you sooner. It might look like I didn’t have your family’s best interests at heart, but I only did what I thought was going to be best for everyone.”
“And you want to run tests on his computer like you did on the town computers?” She recalled him saying that’s what he’d been doing the night before the fishing tournament—scanning documents for something that would show where the missing money had gone.
“Yes. We could find information that would clear your dad and it will bring the investigation to a quick close.”
Right. Or they could find something that would incriminate her father. She didn’t think her dad had done anything wrong. But what if he had secrets that he didn’t want made public? She wouldn’t wantherrecent computer searches documented for the world to see.
“I should ask my brothers first. Or call a lawyer.” Voices approached the concession stand and pulled her attention back to the window. Outside, Bailey McCord and another girl that Heather didn’t recognize had their heads together, laughing and whispering over something on Bailey’s phone.
Heather didn’t need reports of Zach in the concession stand getting back to Bailey’s mother. The news reporter in the press conference had made an excellent point about close associationbetween the mayor and the Finley family. It didn’t look good for either of them.
“Hi, girls.” Heather smiled, hoping Zach was flattening himself to one wall so he wouldn’t be seen. “What can I get you?”
“Do you have any bandages?” Bailey asked. “My boyfriend took the skin off his elbow sliding into home.”
The words elicited a fresh round of giggles from the girls.
Heather checked the scoreboard and noticed the teachers’ team had one more run. The fire department was up now, so she must have missed an at-bat.
“Sure.” She had stocked the first-aid kit herself at the start of the spring season. Digging it out now, she handed them bandages and disinfectant wipes. “Be careful using those wipes around the cut skin. They will sting if they touch an open wound, but you might want to clean around it.”
“Thanks.” Bailey stuffed the paper packets in the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Good luck withAmerican Voice. My friend Megan says you’re supertalented.”
“Thank you.” Heather would have said more, but she didn’t want anyone lingering around the stand with Zach inside. “I really appreciate that.”
“I’m dying to get out of this town, too.” The girl smiled shyly before the two of them turned to leave.
When they were out of hearing range, Heather finally turned back to Zach. He looked different today—rougher, tense, the five-o’clock shadow on his jaw a rarity.
“So can I get back to you about handing over the computers? I’m not sure yet.”
“Of course.” He gave a clipped nod as he leaned a shoulder into the popcorn machine. “I spoke to Megan Bryer today after the press conference.”
“Really?” His words drew her in when she needed to keep boundaries in place. But she wanted to know what he’d found out. For Megan’s sake. “How did that go?”
“She said all the right things. That she was doing the research for a project. That she found my app after researching the steps teens can take to protect themselves.” He shrugged. “I should feel reassured, maybe. But I don’t.”
