The Dry (Aaron Falk #1)(35)
Gretchen seemed pleased and gave him a peck on the cheek as he stood up to get the drinks. She smelled good. Something flowery.
“Thanks. So do you. I like the shirt. Very cutting-edge Kiewarra.” She nodded at his recent purchase, and he grinned. She edged into the corner seat. “Was this the only table left, or are you hiding?”
“Hiding. Sort of.” Falk smiled despite himself. “I went back to my old house last night.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And?”
“It wasn’t quite what I expected.”
“It never is.”
He went to the counter and let the bearded barman pour him an overpriced beer and slightly suspect white wine. When he returned, Gretchen lifted her glass.
“Cheers. Remember when we couldn’t wait to be able to get served in here? All those nights in the park downing whatever we could get our hands on.” She widened her blue eyes in mock disbelief as she gestured at their surroundings. “Now look at us. Living the dream.”
Falk laughed, and their eyes met as they thought back. Falk knew Gretchen’s glossy-lipped, long-limbed teenage years gave her a deeper well of youthful joy to draw on than most. But looking at her now in her dress, he was struck by the thought that those years, before Ellie died and before everything changed, may have been her happiest. He hoped not. He hoped she’d had more. He frowned involuntarily, and the moment was lost.
Gretchen leaned in. “Listen, you should know. The cat’s definitely out of the bag. It’s all round town that you’re nosing around what happened to the Hadlers. You and the sergeant.”
“It’s nothing official.”
“And you think that matters?”
Falk nodded. Fair point. “What’s the general feeling?”
“It depends who you ask. Some people think it couldn’t come soon enough. Others are pretty sure you of all people should be minding your own business.” She lowered her voice. “And everyone’s shitting themselves about what it means if someone else killed them.”
Falk felt a pang of guilt at the string of missed calls from Gerry Hadler on his phone. He resolved to call him first thing in the morning.
“What do you think about it?” Falk asked, curious.
“I think you should be careful.” She fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to know Luke didn’t do it.”
“You think he did?”
She frowned. Thought before answering. “I don’t know. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. But it was more disbelief that something like that had happened at all. From what we were all hearing, it seemed pretty clear-cut. I didn’t really stop to think whether or not Luke had actually been responsible, you know?”
“Neither did most people. Neither did I.”
She gave a twisted little smile. “I wouldn’t say this to anyone but you, but that’s partly Luke’s own fault for being such an arsehole.”
The fields below them glowed silver in the moonlight, the occasional farmhouse standing out like a smudge on the land. The foursome sat on the edge of the rocky outcrop, dangling their feet over the edge. Luke had been the first one to climb over the fence, kicking the Keep Out sign with his foot as he did. He deliberately hadn’t shaved for a few days, Aaron noted with annoyance, and had a dusting of stubble shading his chin. It was more visible in the moonlight as he stood near the rocky edge and stretched his arms out wide, surveying the view.
Aaron had felt his stomach flip at the sight of the unguarded drop but hoisted himself over the fence without a glance at the others. Ellie was right behind him. Luke made a big show of putting his arm out to help Gretchen. She didn’t need it, but she took it with a smile. Now they sat talking and laughing, their insides warm from the half-empty bottle they were passing around. Only Ellie shook her head when the bottle came her way. They took it in turns daring each other to lean forward and stare over the precipice. Full of bluster and bullshit. Scary but not scared.
Falk raised his eyebrows a fraction, but didn’t disagree. “There’s a big gap between arsehole and murderer,” he said. Gretchen nodded.
“And listen, I’m not saying he did it. But was he capable of it?” Gretchen glanced around the room, as though Luke might materialize and overhear her. “That’s a completely different question.”
Luke had his arm around Gretchen’s waist, Aaron could see out of the corner of his eye. Luke leaned in to murmur something, and Gretchen glanced down coyly, her eyelashes casting blue shadows on her cheeks.
Aaron could feel Ellie next to him, but didn’t move. It was the first time he’d seen her properly since their kiss a week earlier at the rock tree, and he still felt on shaky ground. She’d said she’d been working every night. He’d allowed himself to go to the shop only once. She’d waved from behind the register, but it wasn’t a place they could talk.
On the walk up to the lookout he’d hung back, hoping to engineer a few minutes alone with her, but Luke had stuck maddeningly by his side. Ellie gave no sign she was thinking about what had happened at the tree. By the time they’d reached the hill, Aaron was starting to feel he’d imagined the whole thing.
They’d trudged up the trail, Aaron half listening as Luke loudly told some story. Suddenly Ellie looked across and caught his gaze over Luke’s head. She rolled her eyes with exaggerated suffering. Then smiled. A pure, knowing, secret smile meant just for him.