Burn It Up(22)

Abilene was right. In Fortuity, he was somebody. Somebody important, in a way. An employer, a partner to Duncan, an active son to his mom, finally. And whatever he was to Abilene and the baby—something kind of shapeless, but definitely something.

“Fucking Fortuity,” he muttered, staring down Station Street toward the tracks. His hometown, the one he couldn’t f*cking wait to escape when he’d been twenty. The town he’d avoided coming back to for nearly a decade. The town he’d thought he left behind forever, and good riddance.

Last f*cking place he’d ever expected to feel himself getting attached to.

? ? ?

Abilene woke early. For half a breath, she was lost in the memory of that kiss—just long enough for her body to go warm, her eyes to shut, long enough to feel his mouth on hers and his excitement in her hand . . .

But the heat was gone in a breath, as the larger, colder reality intruded. James was out. He was out, and he might be in Fortuity by now, for all she knew.

She’d slept poorly, and for once she couldn’t blame it on Mercy—Casey had set the crib up in the den, volunteering to be on baby duty. She’d taken him up on the offer, thinking her daughter could probably use his calm energy right about now, more than her mama’s jitters. It seemed she’d been right, too. The sound of crying had roused her only once, and faded as quickly as it had started. At least one of them would face the day well rested.

She took a quick shower, then went downstairs, finding Mercy dozing in the crib, but no Casey. Voices drifted from the kitchen, and she moved to the threshold.

“It’s good and it’s bad,” Casey was saying. He had his back to her, sitting at the table.

Christine was busy at the coffeemaker in her robe and sweatpants, long gray-streaked hair twirled up in a fat turquoise barrette. “How so?” she asked him.

“Good that he didn’t come around looking for her at the bar,” Casey said, and Abilene took a step back into the hallway, knowing they were talking about James. She was curious how they’d speak of him, not knowing she was listening. How they’d speak about her.

“But bad, too, since we’re no closer to knowing what mood he’s in.”

“I see what you mean,” Christine said. “You sleep okay?”

“Not too shabby.” It was a lie, and Abilene knew it. She’d heard him downstairs, picking out chords on Don’s old acoustic guitar well into the wee hours.

“You need any help?” he asked Christine.

“I could use loads, actually, with six of you about to descend. Would you fry up some bacon while I get the pancake batter mixed?”

“Sure.”

“What’s the meeting about, anyway? The Abilene situation?”

She heard the fridge door open and close. “Yeah. Mostly just hammering out a schedule, I think.” There was a pause; then he asked Christine, “What?” as though she’d shot him some kind of meaningful look.

“I really wish she’d contact the Sheriff’s Department.”

Abilene flushed.

“She couldn’t get a restraining order, though—it’s not like he’s outright threatened her,” Casey said. “I doubt there’s some box you can check for ‘He’s just a scary guy.’”

“I’d still feel better if they were aware of the situation. They could be on the lookout for him, alert us if he’s seen around.”

“I know, but she refused. I think she’s worried about pissing him off any worse than he might be already. Plus it’s hard enough for her, having all of us knowing her business, and you know Fortuity—if this shit makes it to the BCSD, the whole town’ll be discussing it by sundown.”

It was a lousy option for other reasons, too, ones she didn’t want Casey knowing about. Forms meant using your legal name, and Abilene using her legal name could make for some uncomfortable questions. She didn’t know what exactly counted as identity fraud, but she cashed checks issued to a fake name, using a fake ID.

“I don’t see how that’s a bad thing,” Christine said. “Pride never got anybody anywhere worth going.”

“Well, you try talking to her, then.”

“Believe me—I did. She was trapped in a car with me for four hours yesterday. We made it to Elko and back but the topic went absolutely nowhere. She trusts you and your brother, though. I’d hoped one of you might change her mind.”

Casey laughed. “Girl’s got more problems than we realize if she thinks us Grossiers are the pillars of wisdom and reason.”

With things taking a lighter turn, Abilene chose that moment to intrude. She stepped into the kitchen. “What’s so funny, so early in the morning?”

“Just ripping on the family name,” Casey said, opening a package of bacon. “Baby still asleep?”

“Out cold.”

“Good. Sit down. You want coffee? It’s almost ready.”

“Maybe in a bit. Anything I can help with, for the meeting?”

“Well, if we’ve got three on the job, we may as well cook some eggs,” Christine said. “Scrambled will do. Maybe fifteen?”

“Sure.” Abilene headed to the fridge.

“Sleep okay?” Casey asked her.

“Not terrible, actually. Thanks to being off duty.”