Page 102 of Proof

Gail reached over and patted her hand. “It’s going to be okay, sweetcakes. Magic. Remember.”

Luna sent her brother and Chi-Chi a group text, letting them know when she was arriving and that Cullen didn’t have to pick her up because she was getting in late. She’d take a cab or Uber home.

She finished with: Miss me?

Chi-Chi answered: Of course!

Cullen answered: Who is this?

“Ha. My brother. Thinks he’s a comedian.”

Luna and Gail decided that the chaos they’d experienced required one more massage. Gail phoned the spa, and there were two available appointments, but they had to get there pronto.

It was the perfect ending to a challenging, not-so-perfect, but stimulating, exciting, fruitful, couple of days.

Chapter Twenty-one

Home Turf

Cullen brought Wylie to Luna’s so he’d be there when she got in. He knew she’d want her pooch. Wylie could sense his mommy was coming home. He paced back and forth for a half hour. Cullen waited with him for another half hour until the dog finally settled down. He left Luna a note saying there was a freshly made sandwich in the fridge and that Chris had called. Chris told Cullen Luna’s phone kept going straight to voicemail, and would he ask her to call him when she got back. Chris hadn’t actually tried her number, but it was a good way to see if she still wanted to speak to him. It had been rather hairy the last time they were together.

Wylie began banging his tail against the floor when he heard a car pull into the driveway. He heard Luna say goodnight to the driver, and he began to howl. It sounded as if he were singing in dog language.

Luna dropped her bag at the front door and gave him the biggest, longest hug. “I am so happy to see you, pal. Boy, it was quite a trip!” She went into the kitchen to let him out and walked right past the note sitting on the counter. She dragged her luggage into the bedroom and left it in the corner. “That’s for tomorrow, or whenever,” she said out loud.

On her way back through the kitchen, she let Wylie in, opened the refrigerator, and spotted the sandwich. “Cullen isn’t so bad after all, is he?” She patted Wylie on the head, still overlooking the piece of paper that was waiting for her. She ripped off a sheet of paper towel and brought the sandwich into the living room, with Wylie following close behind. She plopped down on the sofa and grabbed the remote. “What’s been going on in town?” she asked her pup. He tilted his head this way and that. “Well, let’s find out.” She scrolled through the channels as she munched on the ham and brie on sourdough. “Yummy.” She broke off a small piece and gave it to the waiting dog. When they were finished, she left the plate on the coffee table and went straight to her room, peeled off her clothes, freshened up, and climbed into bed. The note remained unseen. Unread.

Luna thought she would conk out when her head hit the pillow, but not unlike the previous nights, she could not fall asleep. Her relationship was hanging in the balance.

* * *

Across the state, Marshal Gaines sat at his dining room table, drumming his fingers. According to Cullen, Luna should have arrived home by now. He checked the time. It was almost one a.m. Maybe she thought it was too late to call. Maybe she’d call in the morning. Maybe she’d never speak to him again after he’d treated her like a criminal. He poured himself two fingers of bourbon. Maybe that would take some of the load off his shoulders. Maybe not. He decided maybe a hot shower would help. That didn’t work, either. He was tied up in knots and decided to do some deep breathing exercises Luna had taught him.

It helped. A little.

He knew he would have to wait until morning before he could make any sort of move, but he also had to make the hour-long drive to pick up Carter. He sat up straight. The camp was halfway between Charlotte and Asheville. If Carter was up to it, maybe they’d take a detour to see Luna. Maybe not. It was a conversation they needed to have without any distractions. Actually, it was two conversations: one with Luna, and one with his son. He willed his mind to concentrate on seeing his son and hearing all his stories about camp. That did the trick, and his body relaxed. Finally.

* * *

Luna punched the pillows. She tried to calculate exactly how many total hours of sleep she’d had in the past three nights. Six? Eight? She was running on adrenaline and running on empty at the same time. She decided to make some herbal tea. Chamomile. It was supposed to help you relax. She flipped on the switch that controlled the kitchen light and the overhead fan. A single sheet of paper drifted across the counter. She squinted and picked it up. It was the note from Cullen. And it was about Chris. Her heart started to pound. He wanted to talk to her. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? The suspense had been wearing on her. She wasn’t going to wait until morning. She didn’t care what time it was. She dashed into her bedroom and grabbed her new phone. She punched in Chris’s number.

Chris catapulted from bed. His heart was racing. No one called at that hour unless it was an emergency. He grabbed the phone and saw it was Luna. He answered right away. “Are you alright?”

“I . . . I think so. You tell me. Am I alright?” She held her breath.

Chris replied with a very long exhale. “As far as I’m concerned, you are the best.”

Tears began to well up in Luna’s eyes. “I’ve been so worried you’d never want to speak to me again.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t want to talk to me, either,” he snorted.

“Well, you were very marshal-y with me.” She could finally breathe again.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Just doing my job.” He paused. “You’ve got to admit, your new hair, being somewhere you shouldn’t have been? Can you blame me?”

Luna thought about it for a moment. “Yes and no. Yes, because I looked like I was in disguise and someplace I shouldn’t have been, but no, because you should know me by now.”

“Believe me, my mind was having a tug-of-war between you and my oath.”