You Shouldn't Have Come Here

“If it does, I’ll find something to arrest you for,” he warned.

The sheriff’s footsteps were heavy across the porch and down the steps. He glanced back once more, narrowing his eyes as he climbed into his vehicle. The sheriff backed his SUV down the driveway, and I felt a pang in my stomach—like it was telling me that was my last opportunity out of here.

“Are you hungry?” Calvin asked.

How could he think about food at a time like this? His uncle was dead. I was about to call him out, to question him, to throw a fit, when my stomach rumbled. I glanced at my watch. It was just after five. Only sixteen hours left. I looked over at Calvin and simply nodded. He smiled and beckoned to follow him . . . back into the house.





46.

Calvin


Grace sat at the kitchen table, nursing a beer, while I busied myself in the kitchen, preparing a meal fit only for my girl. I considered making my specialty—brown beans, bacon, and hot dogs—but decided she deserved better than that since it was her last night. That meal held a special place in my heart. It was the dinner I fell in love with Grace over, and it was the meal that earned her trust. She didn’t believe that combo of ingredients could taste good, but it did. I proved her wrong once, and I’d do it again. I glanced over my shoulder at her. She was watching me. Her gaze started at my feet and went all the way up to my head. I smiled and refocused my attention on sautéing the fresh green beans from my garden and checking on the boiling pot of noodles. It felt like she was looking at me for the last time, but I hoped it was the last of many, and I know that didn’t make any sense. I was used to things not making much sense.

“Are you doing all right?” she asked, breaking the silence. I grabbed my open beer from the countertop and swigged.

The question caught me by surprise. I wasn’t sure she cared about me anymore but it appeared she did. Why else would she ask about my well-being? Why would she be concerned with my grief? I leaned against the counter, crossing one foot over the other.

“I will be eventually,” I said, wiping at my eyes.

Time healed all wounds and those it didn’t scabbed over nicely enough.

Grace raised her chin and then lowered it, about to say something but then deciding not to. I sniffled and rubbed at my eyes, wondering what she was going to say. Her words were so careful now, like she was playing a game of chess.

“You looking forward to heading home?”

I knew she was but I hoped she would lie to me. Sometimes lying was the best thing you could do for another person. A lie provided comfort honesty never could. That’s why I lied to her. My muscles tensed, waiting for her answer.

She shrugged. “Don’t think I’ll be able to since my car’s not working.”

“It’s working now.”

I thought I saw the smallest smile on her face, but I hoped my eyes were playing tricks on me.

“I’m sorry about Albert,” she said.

“Me too.” For more reasons than she would ever know.

Turning back to the stove, I stirred the beans a couple more times. The key to cooking green beans is butter, lots and lots of butter. The meatballs sizzled in the lard, and the noodles were nearly done. I was going to make something fancier like steak or shrimp for Miss Grace, but I didn’t want to have to run into town and leave her alone. Plus, I was scared she’d find a way to leave while I was gone, and I couldn’t have that.

I turned and smiled at her again. “Almost done.”

Her lips made a tight smile, and she quickly brought the beer to her mouth and tipped it back. What was going on behind those blue, blue eyes? Was Grace thinking about leaving me?





47.

Grace


I dabbed at my mouth with a napkin and placed it on the table, signaling I was done. I did everything I could to appease Calvin tonight: returned all his smiles, stayed by his side, and ate his food. I hoped he hadn’t done something to it. I watched him closely while he prepared the meal, just in case. It was obvious who he was, and I knew I had to be careful.

“Dinner was delicious,” I said.

Calvin sat across from me, winding his spaghetti noodles around his fork. He ate slower than I did—purposefully, I assumed. He was trying to savor every moment he had left with me. I was just trying to get through dinner so all of this could be behind me come morning. I wasn’t interested in getting any closer to Calvin. I’d gotten close enough, maybe almost too close.

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.” His smile was beaming. He twisted up another fork of tangled noodles and stabbed a meatball with force.

“I’m sorry to bring this up again.” I eyed Calvin cautiously. “What do the police think happened to Albert?”

He set his fork down and scratched the back of his head. “They think he was drunk, stumbled down there, and well, it was an accident.”

I raised my brow. “But he was allergic to bees. Why would he go back there?”

Calvin leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “How’d you know that?”

“I saw his medical bracelet and asked him about it. He told me he was basically allergic to everything.” I leaned back in my chair, matching his posture.

“He was.” Calvin shook his head. “Something like this was bound to eventually happen.”

I swallowed hard. It was a strange thing for Calvin to say.

“Don’t you think it’s odd he went back by the bees?”

He wiped at his eyes. I didn’t understand why he kept wiping them; they were dry. Had been all day.

“It was dark out. He was drinking. Probably got turned around.”

Turned around? On a ranch he was clearly very familiar with? That picture of him, Calvin, and Joe was more than a decade old. I considered prying more but decided to play it safe and just agree with him.

“You’re probably right. It’s just such a shame,” I said, delivering a sympathetic glance.

Calvin nodded. “It really is.” He didn’t break eye contact. But he wasn’t really looking at me anymore. He was studying me.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” I knew it was time to put an end to this night.

He brushed my offer away with a double flick of his wrist. “Oh no. I got it.”

I gave a small smile and tried to make my eyes appear big and puppy-like. “Mind if I head to bed? I’ve got a big day of traveling tomorrow.”

Calvin coughed. There was a sadness in his eyes along with tinges of anger, frustration, and fear—all mixed into a perfect recipe of what, I presumed would be, a disaster. I nearly flinched waiting for his reply. Instead, I raised my shoulders and my chin. I had learned confidence was the best armor.

“Yeah, of course,” he finally said.

I stood from my chair and inched away from the table. “Thanks for everything. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He gave a slight nod. “Good night, Grace.”

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