Eventually, it was time for Bree to leave. She was getting tired of these good-byes. Each one was harder than the last.
“Did you find the answers you were looking for?” Nick asked as he walked her out to her rental.
“Not all of them, but enough.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t answer everything.”
“I understand.” And she did. “You answered more than I’d expected. I do appreciate that.”
“What will you do with all this newfound knowledge? Will you include it in your article?”
“I don’t know. It would make an interesting story.”
Nick nodded, but she could see the flash of disappointment in his eyes.
“Have a safe trip, okay? Let me know when you get back to San Diego.”
“I will. Hey, maybe you could come out and visit me sometime. I could return the favor, show you around SoCal.”
“Sure,” he said. “I’d like that.”
But in her heart, she knew he’d never come.
Chapter Forty-Four
Bree
There was no reason to extend her stay any longer. She had most of the story, and sticking around wasn’t going to add anything of value. She’d spoken to the people at Sanctuary, and she was convinced she’d get no more from them. She also believed they had the best interests of those involved—including her—at heart.
She wasn’t likely to get any more from the people of Sumneyville either. In fact, Nick had strongly suggested she leave town quietly. Lenny and the others believed she was already gone, and that was a good thing. If she suddenly reappeared and started asking more questions, it could prove dangerous.
Since Bree had gotten a glimpse of Lenny in action and confirmed that he had a shady agenda—though she still wasn’t sure exactly what that agenda was—she agreed with Nick’s suggestion. As much as she would like to believe she had what it took to be an investigative reporter, she didn’t. Asking questions? Online research? Reading people and forming theories? Yeah, she was all over that. Skulking around the woods at night with the real possibility of getting shot or worse? No, thanks.
With a heavy heart, Bree drove back to the motel, gathered her things, and checked out. She made it to the airport without incident. The flight was long and uneventful. She even managed to doze off a few times on the plane, which was a first.
It felt strange to be back in California. The familiar sense of relief she usually felt when coming home wasn’t there. The air was too dry. The temperature was too hot. There were too many cars and too many people. Had the smog been that bad when she left?
After completing her journey with a three-hour traffic battle on I-5, she was finally home. Her apartment was exactly as she’d left it, but it seemed starker after spending a week at Martha’s with her overabundance of furniture and knickknacks on every available surface.
She dumped her luggage in the bedroom and pulled out her phone, firing off a text to Toni, letting her know she was back. She also kept her promise to Nick.
Bree: I’m home.
The response was immediate despite it being after midnight in Pennsylvania. The fact that he’d been waiting to hear from her made her smile.
Nick: Glad to hear it. How was the trip?
Bree: Long but uneventful. I’m beat. What are you still doing up?
Nick: Stargazing.
Her chest tightened. She hated the feeling. Hated that she wasn’t there stargazing with him.
Bree: Alone?
Nick: Of course. I don’t let just anyone up in my tree house, you know.
That tight knot loosened, and warmth flowed through her. Moving to the window, she opened the curtains and put her hand on the glass. Even though night had fallen, she couldn’t see the stars with the same clarity she had on that mountain.
Bree: Can any of that fancy equipment of yours take a picture for me?
She stared at the phone, waiting for an answer. After several minutes, another text came through with a beautiful image of a deep midnight-blue sky glittering with stars. It looked like something out of an astronomy textbook, but something told her it wasn’t.
Nick: How’s that?
Bree: Perfect. Thank you.
Nick: You’re welcome. Get some rest. You’ve had a long day.
Bree: I will. You, too.
Bree took a hot shower to wash away the ickiness of public travel but still felt in a funk. What she needed was some comfort food and uninterrupted sleep to start feeling like herself again. She dressed in comfortable loungewear and scanned her freezer. Nothing looked appealing. Finally, she just picked a frozen entrée at random and was about to pop it into the microwave when Toni came in, bearing Bree’s favorite takeout. Tired as she was, it was good to see Toni again.
Bree grabbed some plates and a bottle of wine while Toni set things out on the coffee table in the living space.
“So ...”
“So?” Bree asked.
“Start talking.”
Bree did. She told Toni everything, beginning with the shitty trip and the monster pothole and filling her in up to her ill-advised attempt at being an investigative reporter and subsequent rescue. She didn’t break any confidences, but Toni was able to fill in some of the blanks on her own. By the time she was finished, the bottle of wine was nearly empty, and Toni was shaking her head in disbelief.
“Holy shit, Bree. That’s a hell of a story.”
“I know.”
“Charlie’s going to flip.”
“If I tell him.”
Toni gaped at her. “If you tell him? Bree, this is it, girlfriend. The opportunity you’ve been waiting for!”
“I thought so, too, but now, I’m not so sure anymore.”
“That’s the jet lag talking,” Toni said, getting up and collecting the remnants of their meal. “Get some rest. Clarity will return with reason in the morning.”
Bree dragged herself into bed, Toni’s words fresh in her mind. Toni had been right. This was an opportunity to be seen as something more than a fluff journalist whose stories were used as filler between the meatier, juicier stories.
The question was,
