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a hand to his bloodshot eyes to block the bright sun and winced from the pain. Dylan bet he had a raging hangover headache and sympathized.
    “Did you two catch up?”
    “She showed me the long-ass scar down her back. The thing goes from her shoulder down to her hip. This nasty, ragged line. That bastard sliced her open.”
    “Where did she go after she left town?”
    “Solomon.”
    So close. Yet no one ever found her. Probably because no one went looking for her.
    “I thought she was dead. Now, I have a job and she’s yelling at me to quit drinking and being like the old man. Apparently, my wife is considering leaving me. Damn.” Brian threw up his hands in frustration. “Hell, I don’t know what’s going on. Did she tell you anything?”
    “She tried to contact me when she left town.”
    “She did? What the hell happened with the two of you at the prom?”
    “I thought I knew. Now, I don’t think I know the half of it,” Dylan admitted and hated being in the dark. He rubbed the tense muscles at the back of his neck. Jessie’s words ate at him. “Listen, I have to go to the office. You all right?”
    “Just peachy. I think I better clean up the house before my wife gets home. You may have to come back if she decides to kill me.”

 
    Chapter Seven
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    D YLAN SAT IN his truck outside the sheriff’s office and stared at the building, thinking of all Jessie said and didn’t say. He pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial for his parents’ house.
    “Hello.” His mother’s cheerful voice came on the line.
    “It’s me.”
    “Are you calling to ask me to watch Will again?” The hope in her voice made him smile, but it died on his lips the second he thought about why he really called her.
    “No. He’s with Lorena today. I went over to Brian’s house to see if I could help him make funeral arrangements for Buddy.”
    “You die young when you drink like that man.”
    No sympathy. Not even an offer of condolences for his old friend, Brian. Typical, judgment with no sympathy.
    “Jessie’s back in town. I saw her at Brian’s house.”
    Silence. It took his mother twenty seconds to spit out. “Is that right?”
    “Why didn’t you tell me she called?”
    “What difference would it have made? You left your family and joined the military against our wishes. You wanted to get away from us. This town. Her.”
    “No. Not her. But that’s what you told her, didn’t you? You sent her that email, saying I didn’t want her and never wanted to hear from her again.”
    “Who can remember what I said after all these years? You moved on. I told her to do the same.”
    “How could you do that when everyone in town thought her father killed her?”
    “Well, he didn’t.”
    “Did you even ask her what happened? Where she was? If she was okay?”
    “She wasn’t my responsibility or yours. If I’d told her where you were, she’d have clung onto you again and dragged you down with her. That girl is nothing but an anchor. You’re better off without her. You’ve got Will to look after now. He needs you, so don’t get distracted from the life you’ve built here with him. That girl is no good for you.”
    Dylan smacked his hand against the steering wheel, frustrated to have the same conversation he’d had with his mother about Jessie so many times when he was a kid. Arguing about Jessie never got him anywhere. His mother refused to see the Jessie he knew.
    “Dylan.” His mother said his name with that placating tone that meant she’d reached the end of her rope with him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you she called, but there was nothing you could do for her. You had your life. She had hers. Things turn out the way they do for a reason.”
    “You let me believe she died.”
    “After I spoke to her, no one ever heard from her again. You were gone, busy in the military, and then with Will. I never thought to mention it again. You never asked about her.”
    No. Why would he when his mother made