Page 11 of All Yours

“Our grandparent’s kinda screwed up,” Lauren said.

Screwing up in life was one thing I could relate to.

Chapter Four

Jonah

“Hey,” Finn said, greeting me with a menu and a glass of water. I’d come in for lunch enough now for us to have a routine. “How’s it going?”

The large mahogany horseshoe-shaped bar in Lou’s Lakeside was a comfortable respite from the daily grind and responsibility of such a large job site.

“Everyone actually showed up this morning. So, pretty good,” I said, perusing the menu I’d already memorized. It was the time of year when Adrian would cut out lunch as boating season winds down. But with the crews still working across the street, the lunch crowd remained a decent size. I’d popped in on the early side of lunchtime, which was unusual for me. Time moved at such a pace that the midday hours existed as only blurs most days. It was the largest project I’d ever taken on at Barnes Construction and managing that many people and keeping track over who was doing what and when wasn’t easy.

“How’s the investor search going?” he asked, leaning against the bar. The shades of green in the dragon tattooed on his forearm popping in the overhead lights.

I almost asked how he found out about that, but I’d grown up here in Hart Valley and word got around. If there was a secret, it was only a matter of time before it, too, was public knowledge.

“Camden’s got a couple of people coming to town next week to check out the area. The stores are now fifty percent spoken for. So, lots of growth.”

Finn grabbed two abandoned glasses at the end of the bar and deposited them into the plastic bin of soapy water and wiped down the bar. “Well, just don’t let another bar move in.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I said, glancing up from the menu. “Lou’s is an institution.” Adrian’s dad started the place back in the eighties. Our parents were all best friends. A photo of them all at graduation still hung on the wall behind the bar.

“Right. And the shiny new thing never takes out the institution.” Finn grabbed two menus and deposited them in front of a couple that sidled up to the bar. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

I understood his concerns, but still he worried for nothing. Locals loved Lou’s, and it was here to stay. Adrian had done a good job with updates on the menu and social activities. The place stayed packed most days.

After I’d ordered lunch, Finn switched on the television behind the bar and the midday news began. The news rarely interests me, but the weather forecast was of vital importance. My business lived and died based on what Mother Nature had in store for the week. But the video footage from a gas station caught my attention.

“Chattanooga police are looking to question these women in connection to an injury occurring when an undercover detective ended up dragged for a few feet.”

The man whose identity they obscured in the grainy video running across a gas station parking lot after a blurry woman with bright red hair who jumped into the back window of a very familiar looking Nissan sedan.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself as the news replayed the video footage of the blurred man being dragged for a short distance while the car accelerated out of frame.

“Police have failed to provide the identity of the woman or why they were attempting to question her,” the woman wearing a suit on the screen continued. “But are seeking help in identifying the car and driver. If you know who this is, call the Chattanooga police at…” I stopped listening as the buzzing in my brain intensified.

Not only had Sloane said nothing about the trip, but she’d also downplayed it as a boring day of driving. She certainly never mentioned Eden leaping through the car window and her speeding off with a man hanging from her car. It was such a glaring omission that maybe I was mistaken, and it wasn’t Sloane’s car at all. There were tons of that type of car on the road. So, there was a chance that a different redheaded woman dove into the back of a Nissan headfirst, and they drove away.

I pushed the plate away. The burger had turned to cement in my gut. Would anyone else in town put this together and think what I did? This could be catastrophic for Sloane, who valued her privacy almost more than anything else. But then again, what the hell happened? And why wouldn’t Sloane tell me about it?

Autumn leaves crunched underfoot as I trudged down the walkway of Sloane’s riverside cabin. After failing all afternoon to put the security camera footage from the gas station out of my mind, I found myself driving to her house. There I stood on her porch with my stomach grumbling in protest that I hadn’t grabbed food.

With her short blonde hair pulled into a tiny ponytail, a sweatshirt, and pajama pants, confusion spread across her face. I’d arrived unannounced.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Can I come in?” I asked, shifting from one foot to another on the stoop.

Sloane nodded and stepped aside for me to enter. “You’re starting to worry me,” she said as I passed.

“I just came across something today that I need to ask you about.”

She froze for a moment, leaving the door behind me open longer than necessary, and if I hadn’t been paying attention, I’d have missed it.

“What’s up?” she asked, following me to the couch.

I retrieved my phone from my pocket and swiped it on. The video was ready.

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