Laura arrived back in Blackendale the next day around noon. Stepping off the bus, she let out a small sigh of relief. Just being here again seemed to push back against that sense of despair that had been slowly creeping up on her. Blackendale was a place where good people lived quiet lives, and everything happened like it was supposed to. Not a place where power and influence could be wielded like a weapon.

Laura chuckled just thinking about it. Maybe Mr. Baker could use his monopoly on homemade baked goods to buy votes to push Janice, the town’s hairdresser, out of her perennial spot as head of the PTA. This of course would be followed by a war of terror (or at least terrible haircuts) upon all of Mr. Baker’s friends. He wouldn’t be swayed however, as he was a man of stalwart character. Also, he was very bald.

She would have loved to stop at the bakery to grab some coffee and catch up with Mr. Baker, but he knew her too well from her summers here as a kid. There was too much chance he would recognize her, and she knew through Rick that the state police had asked around about her on their original trip to check out Joyce’s cabin. She honestly didn’t think she would have to worry even if he did recognize her, but that would be a hell of a position to put him in. So no, she’d stay away.

She did stop at the small general store though. It was under new owners, so there was little concern about anyone spotting her, and coffee at Rick’s place was running dangerously low. She paid for it with cash of course. Rick’s cash, which she felt a little guilty about, but he had insisted she take some extra money with her. She hadn’t dared use any of her cards since their return from New York for obvious reasons.

Part of her felt like a burden to him, which was a feeling she was unused to. Laura had been accustomed to being the person that other people could lean on if they needed to, so this foray into the other side was strange for her. She just hoped she could return the favor at some point.

After paying up she left and started towards Rick’s cabin. It would take about thirty minutes to get there, and it was already almost lunch time. Her stomach grumbled as she set off.

A few minutes of walking passed before she became aware of a vehicle following behind her. Now that she was paying attention she could tell that it was just behind her and was keeping pace, rolling slowly so as not to overtake her.

Her mind spun and she fought to keep from speeding up. If it was the police, what were her options? Turn herself in or hightail it into the trees next to the road. It became forest at some point, so maybe she could lose them. And if it was Vascenti’s thugs? Running into the forest would be the exact wrong thing to do. The last thing she wanted was to be somewhere without witnesses if they had somehow found her.

She settled for swinging her backpack off her shoulders as she walked. She pulled out a compact mirror then shrugged back into the backpack. She could pretend to be checking her makeup to get a look at whoever it was behind her.

She brought up the mirror to eye level and instantly all of the tension flowed out of her. It was Rick, slowly following in his old red truck, eyes meeting hers in the mirror. His face wore that obnoxiously cute expression he put on when teasing her.

Spinning on her heel, she walked back to the truck and leaned in the window. “You big idiot! I thought you were the police! Or a car full of gangsters here to whack me!”

“Nope, just a simple day laborer admiring a pretty lady. Don’t mind me ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me,” she started, but it came out through a grin. She opened the door and hopped in the truck.

“Yes ma’am,” Rick said, speeding up a little as she closed the door. He was sporting a bit of stubble today, something that wasn’t uncharacteristic for him. “Sorry I’m late, I meant to be there to pick you up when you got off the bus.”

“So when you couldn’t find me your response was to drive along slowly like some sexual predator searching for victims?” Even after a day away Laura had missed this lighthearted verbal sparring she and Rick always fell into so easily.

Rick chuckled. “Predator? Me? I’m pretty sure predators drive vans. Anyways I was just parked over there waiting for you to walk by.” He motioned to the parking lot in front of the town bar.

“Had to stop for coffee first,” she said while patting her bag.

Rick nodded approvingly. He was almost as much of a coffee junkie as she was.

They arrived back at the cabin a few minutes later. During the drive Laura gave a rundown of what she had found out in Chicago. It was a depressingly short list. Vascenti seemed to be very rich and well connected. She had an address that may or may not be for one of Vascenti’s illegal gambling spots. Joyce didn’t think she had killed Craig.

“You really thought Joyce would believe it was you who did it?” Rick asked, stepping out of the truck. “She always struck me as a pretty no nonsense kinda woman, and thinking that you just up and killed your brother? Sounds like nonsense to me.”

“It’s not like I thought she would, but some part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I’d lost everyone at once. If that makes any sense.”

“Not really, but people don’t always make sense, especially when something bad has happened.” She noticed his use of the more general ‘people’, rather than humans. Rick always seemed pretty deliberate with his words.

As they entered the cabin Laura couldn’t help but feel a wave of disappointment wash over her. She had thought that by the time she returned she would have some kind of plan of action mapped out, or at least a hint of what to do next. She flopped down on the couch.

“What am I going to do, Rick?” she asked. “I don’t have a clue where to go from here.”

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he said walking back into the living room after having dropped her bag in the bedroom. “We’re going to get drunk.”

“How’s that going to help?”

“Oh it’s not, but you need a night out, a night to forget about your brother, evil crime lords, and false charges.” He pulled her up off the couch as he spoke, pulling her into an embrace. “Besides, it’s Wednesday.”

“And what is Wednesday?” she asked, snuggling against him.

“It’s wing night you heathen,” came the response, his chest vibrating against her ear as he spoke. “We’ll go out, have a few drinks, eat too many wings, and then we’ll take a fresh look at things tomorrow.”

Laura had precisely zero idea how many chicken wings this man would consider too many, but she was willing to bet it was a lot. She had witnessed him eat more hot dogs at one time than any sane person would consider reasonable. He had been recovering from a gunshot wound, to be fair.

“That sounds great, actually,” Laura answered. “Anything is better than spending another night going around and around in my head.”

Rick chuckled. “You’ll still be going around and around, it’ll just be on a dance floor instead.”

“You dance?” she blurted out, hearing the surprise in her own voice.

“Don’t sound so surprised darlin’,” he drawled back, playing up his country accent. “I’m an onion.”

“Biggest damn onion I’ve ever seen,” she muttered under her breath, knowing he would hear her. His chest just shook as he laughed.