When We Touch

My stomach sinks.

“I haven’t known Jackson very long. Not nearly as long as you have.” He looks at me, dark eyes serious. “He’s a little reckless, playful. Still, it’s hard for me to believe he’d intentionally hurt someone who wasn’t asking for it.”

I take a deep breath, trying to ease the tension. “It’s hard for me to believe.”

“Then don’t.” His gaze moves from me up the lane, toward the old neighborhood where my mother’s house is located. “People see what they’re looking for. We don’t have the whole story. The truth might be real simple.”

Looking back the way I came, I don’t answer. I only nod.

He starts to go back inside the store, but he pauses. “I’ve been talking to Tabby. She’s got some good ideas for marketing—you and me working together, cross-promoting…”

I squint up at him. “I finally started paying her.”

That makes him chuckle. “I like her ideas. I think if we put our heads together we could bring more tourists up this way. Daisy has the antique shop. Count me in.”

“Okay,” I say, managing a small smile.

The ugliness of the situation hangs heavy over me. Even with Jackson gone, the court order locks me into staying at my mother’s house. Still, I have the slightest glimmer of hope. The faintest flicker of a dream.

Twenty-Three

Jack

I’m on the phone with Ian the entire drive back to the city. In the background, I hear the noise of voices and men working.

“I’m almost at the end,” he says. “Your name pops up in almost every document.”

My heart sinks. “I was second chair on the case. I’m probably in everything.”

Which means there’s no way of proving I didn’t know about the hidden evidence, the prescription drugs or the violations.

“I did, however, find one early interview. It’s with the driver of the truck—you weren’t there. It looks like it was right after the accident occurred. A detective I don’t know, two counties over conducted it. Brice was present. I’ll send it to you.”

My grip tightens on the wheel. I can’t wait. “I’ll be driving another hour. Tell me what it says.”

“The driver keeps saying he’s sorry. The detective made some notes that he seemed dazed and jittery, possibly under the influence.”

“Brice would have characterized it as shock.” It’s a go-to defense, especially in the case of traffic fatalities.

The sound of pages turning echoes in my ear. “Driver says he can’t lose this job. He’s too old to start over… He makes few references to breaks, meals… if you establish a timeline, it’s what you’re looking for.”

“The only problem is proving I didn’t know about it.”

Ian does a little grunt. “Can’t help you there.”

My jaw tightens, and I turn the matter over in my mind. Over and over, it’s all I’ve been doing for the past two days.

“Any luck finding Tiffany Rogers for me?”

> “You asked me to search two hours ago,” Ian laughs. “I haven’t had a chance to start.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice is tight. “Things have become more urgent, that’s all.”

“Finding people isn’t so hard. It’s possible I can have something for you by the time you’re back at your place.”

“I can’t thank you enough. Keep me posted.”

We sign off, and I focus on the beige concrete in front of me. I’m impatient at how long it’s taking to get to my condo. The Beast nearly overheated when I flew back to Oceanside after Ember’s call. I’ll have to switch to my Audi and give this old guy a rest. It’s strange how quickly I’ve adjusted to a different pace, the country versus the city.